#also not me having not posted for over 2 months only to come back talking about this

[pellucid-constellations]

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 

One minute. 

Two minutes. 

The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 

Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 

He was lucky you accepted bribes. 

~~

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 

Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.” 

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 

The duality of man. 

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 

~~

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 

He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 

“M’not even that drunk!” 

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 

“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 

“So much.” 

“How much?” 

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” 

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 

“Would you let me?” he responds. 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

~~

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 

From: University Peer Assistance Program 

Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 

Thank you, 

University Peer Assistance 

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 

His mistake. 

That word felt wrong. 

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 

Ice cream would fix this. 

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 

“Nice outfit.” 

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 

“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 

“Please let go of me.” 

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 

“Look at me, y/n.” 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 

“Of course.” 

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 

“You get harassed all the time too?” 

“No…” 

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 

“Bucky—” 

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 

“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—” 

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #college!bucky #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #college AU #frat!bucky #marvel imagine

[dwaekkicidal]

Sharing is Caring

˚ʚ3racha x Fem!readerɞ˚

ʚ���ɞ˚ summary: After finding what Stray Kids' closest female friend really does with their leader behind closed doors, Jisung and Changbin decide they want in too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 6.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, slight angst before the first divider? But it gets resolved like immediately, fluff, nicknames used: 'baby girl, bunny, jagi(ya), and baby,' ot8✗reader mentions but smut is written for 3racha✗reader, Changbin has a fat crush on u, Chan✗reader action, Changbin✗reader action, some m✗m action: Chan✗Jisung mentions, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, rough sex, (1½) pvssy slaps, hair pulling, overstimulation (?), readers a brat for 2 seconds, Channie is referred to as “Daddy” and Changbin as “Sir”, p in v, creampie & no protection (don't be silly wrap ur willy also pee after sex pls), blowjobs, a handjob, I think thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: an audio I heard a few weeks ago inspired this... I actually have no clue how this came out of that audio but you’re welcome (or I'm sorry)

edit; part 2 and 3 are 100% happening now! theyre both in the works & i will update this linking both parts once they are done (i wont spoil the pairs yet tho :3)

MDNI!! smut below the cut

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PSA: Sorry if you find this annoying, but I put so much yapping talking that I was only comfortable posting this with color-coded dialogues: If you hate it let me know so that I don’t do it again, but it kinda worked out so I kept it in instead of adding a million more words for nothing

Chris | Binnie | Hannie | You

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You’re currently sitting in Stray Kids’ studio at the JYP building. Chris sits beside you in the other office chair at the desk, while Changbin and Han sit on the couch. Both staring holes into your heads as yours stare on the floor in embarrassment. They just walked in on you and Chris fucking in the studio, right in the very chair Chris was sitting in.

Speaking of, you see in the corner of your eye as he rubs his hands all over his face in frustration, his ears a very bright red. “Listen.. Normally we wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that in a public setting.. But I didn’t know you two were coming today and we got carried away..”

You glance up to see Changbin frown at the older boy, his eyes full of anger. You look over and check on Jisung, his eyes glossy. You furrow your eyebrows and lift your head fully. “Hannie..” You start, but immediately give up on your sentence when you see Changbin’s eye snap his eyes to you, the anger still prominent.

“Okay well… I don’t think that's the problem here… Do what you want, hyung. It’s your life..” Han starts, staring at you for a moment before continuing with a deep breath. “But you know how both of us feel about her. Hell. How the entire group feels about her. You have to see this from our point of view.”

Chan fixes his posture at the sentence and you look between the boys with pure confusion on your face. “Huh??”

“In my defense, I didn’t know how you guys felt until we were already messing around. We had already agreed on this arrangement months prior to the first person saying anything.”

“Arrangement?” Binnie says with the most attitude you’ve ever seen come out of him.

“We’re not dating.. We’re just…. friends with benefits. Sex with no extra emotional strings attached.” Chan sighs loudly, rubbing the back of his neck and continuing. “In all honesty, me and her talked about including you guys but we were afraid it would ruin things. Ruin the group as a whole.”

You start to feel frustrated, they're talking as if you’re not even in the room and when that's mixed with the ruined orgasm you just had, you can't help but get annoyed. “Hello?? I’m still here by the way. Can one of you tell me what the fuck is going on before I leave.” You narrow your eyes at the three of them and cross your arms. They’re caught off guard at your tone, you’ve never spoken to them in any tone outside of a sugary sweet one with pretty doe eyes. Even Changbin’s demeanor falters before he cracks his own neck. “Bunny. You haven’t noticed anything odd? How Hyunjin paints you every chance he gets? How Yongbok gives you all kinds of sweets and says that he ‘baked too much’? Not even the princess treatment that SEUNGMIN of all people gives you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him before sputtering out, “W-Well yes, but I thought that was just normal behavior.”

Han lets out a tense laugh at that, when you turn to him he decides to continue for Changbin. “Jagiya, we don’t even do these things with each other… all of us are pretty in love with you. We have been for a long time to be honest. Though.. some of us…” he pauses before stealing a glance at the timid boy beside him. “Some of us fell faster and harder than the others. At the end of the day, you have all 8 of us wrapped around your finger.”

All the attitude and anger in your body is suddenly flushed out, replaced with confusion and surprise, “Wait..” When you think back to what Changbin said, the pieces start to click together. All 3 boys watch your reaction nervously, and Changbin lets out a slight sigh of relief when he sees the gears turning in your head. “She actually had no clue.”

“I tried to not blatantly say anything about it once I found out. But I honestly thought you knew about some of the members, baby girl?”

“I had no clue… I’m so sorry Binnie, Hannie..” You hear Han let out a sigh as your eyes watch Changbin’s, they stare into you less angrily but it makes the hurt more evident. You frown sadly at him and let your head hang, not sure what to do with this situation.

“It’s okay, Jagi. Now that I know you were oblivious about our feelings, I don’t think I���m as upset. More so at Channie-hyung for getting to you before us. But I’ll get over that feeling soon.. I don’t know about him though.”

The man in question’s eyes never leave your form, but he takes Han’s words to heart and takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t know. I’m quite hurt but Han is right. It’s honestly our own faults for not being clear with you.”

His words hang in the air for a while before you fix your posture and look over at Chris, meeting his eyes. He tilts his head at you, but you quickly turn to look between the other boys. “What's going on in your head, pretty?”

“Mm.. Well Channie did already spill the beans on what we spoke about.” You say, looking up at each boy before being met with confusion on each of their pretty faces. You clear your throat before continuing, “About… me being with all of you guys..” You pause once more to gauge their reactions, when you don’t see any negativity you finish your thought: “If you guys are okay with sharing, I don’t think I would mind dating all of you. At the end of the day I have been loyal to you guys anyways... So if everyone is okay with it, it could work.”

Chris’ head snaps to the couch to try and read their expressions. He can see Changbin thinking deeply about it and the faint blush on Han’s cheeks more or less gives him an answer. “Only if you guys are okay with it. I told you already, even before I knew about everybody’s feelings I was easing her into the idea of being with us all, whether that be through dating or her being our mutual friend with benefits.”

Han nods and looks over at Changbin, nervously watching his reaction as he mumbles out an “I’m okay with it.. Only if Changbin-hyung is too.” At the mention of his name, Changbin blinks multiple times to bring himself back down to earth. Once he realizes the outcome of this is in his hands, he gulps and clears his throat. “I… I don’t know..”

“If you need time to think about it, I’ll give you as much time as you need. In the meantime, Chris and I will stop everything we do and we’ll go based on what you guys are okay with.” Changbin furrows his eyebrows and looks at his hyung, who nods in agreement with your promise. “I told you, we spoke about this before. Many times actually. If enough of you weren’t okay with it, we agreed to cut things off completely for the sake of our friendships being more important.”

Changbin slowly nods, “I… I need some time to think about it.” You and Chris nod before meeting each other’s eyes for a moment. “Okay well, we should head home then. The song can wait, we’ve all had a long night.”

Everyone silently agrees and one by one the studio empties. You were the last to leave, but you quickly caught up to Changbin, wanting to have a 1 on 1 chat with him. “Binnie. I really am sorry. If I had known earlier then I wouldn’t have let us do this for so long without involving you guys. I feel horrible.”

He smiles softly at you, placing a hand on your head and massaging your scalp with his fingertips. “I know, Bunny. I’m not really mad anymore, I just don’t know if I can handle sharing you. Jisung and I spoke about it a few times but we thought it wasn’t even on the table.”

You nod and shuffle on your feet. He thinks for a moment before looking at you nervously, “Can you answer a question I have truthfully?” When you nod eagerly he continues, “...If you would date us all, as in all 8 of us.. Could you actually see yourself loving us all equally?”

You bite your lip before laughing nervously, “That’s honestly not even a question to me… I already love you all equally. I wasn’t lying when I said I had been loyal to you guys ‘anyways’. I turned down so many idols and random people on the street because I knew I had you guys. I knew how much I loved you all and I knew wasting time with these people to get over my feelings wouldn’t be worth it. So I sat patiently and waited to see how things would go.”

He lets out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding, letting out a light laugh of relief. “Can I hug you, Bunny?”

“Please.” He smiles and pulls you into his arms, the two of you stay in the embrace until Changbin gets a call from Chan, telling him that the taxi is outside and they’re waiting for him. You say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

Now we wait..

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A few days pass as normal, and you almost forget about what happened in the studio. When you’re lounging on the couch scrolling through a streaming site, you hear your phone ding a few times and it makes your stomach drop. You drop the remote immediately and in seconds your phone is unlocked with your text messages open.

Your hand slaps over your mouth and you squeal, not being able to contain your excitement, and you spend the next few days excitedly preparing yourself for Friday night.

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

When the night comes, you walk into their dorm as if it was any other day. When you meet the eyes of the men sitting at the dining table, you hesitate. All three sets of eyes look up at you, the older boys hold soft smiles while the youngest is biting his lip with red cheeks.

After some time of the awkwardness in the air fading, the four of you talk boundaries. In summary, you all agreed on:

Changbin only wants to fuck you, Chan and Jisung are open to anybody but mainly want you, and you want all 3 of them.

Specific kinks were talked about, but everyone agreed on rougher play for the night, just nothing too extreme yet. Specifically yes to spanks, rough fucking, choking, and hair pulling.

Chris closes it out with a few statements: “If, at any point, you aren’t sure to keep going, we use the traffic light system. Just ask her what her color is and she’ll respond with ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down, and ‘green’ for keep going. And aftercare is a MUST. You don’t give her aftercare, you don’t get her at all.” When the other men agree, he leads you guys to the dining room where the coffee table is already moved to the side.

Before you know it, you’re sitting on their dorm’s couch, shyly playing with the strings on your sweatpants. All 3 men are standing between you and the tv, thanking every god they know that Hyunjin is out of the country for the week. Chan warily looks over his members faces, looking for any sign of hesitation. Instead he’s met with both basically eye-fucking you and Jisung already hard as a rock through his jeans. He laughs to himself quietly before looking over at you, initially looking for an unsure reaction from you as well. But when he watches your eyes jump between the other 2 and you bite your lip, he takes a breath before speaking.

“Since this would be both of your first times with her, I’ll show you all the good spots and how to play with her properly.” You roll your eyes and frown up at him from your spot on the couch. He gives you an amused smile and you watch from the corner of your eye as Changbin grabs a chair from the dining room, placing it in front of the tv so that it faces the couch. Chris swiftly pulls you to your feet before taking a seat on the chair. He pulls you into his lap and makes you face the other 2 men, who are now seated on the couch patiently waiting for the scene in front of them to unfold.

“You ready, baby?” He asked into your neck, his thick lips already placing wet kisses and his hands already pulling at the elastic of your sweats. You make a scene to hold eye contact with both men on the couch before responding to the one below you, “Yes, Daddy.” When Changbin’s eyes widen before he closes them and lays his head back, you giggle to yourself and move your eyes over to Jisung. You hear him groan and class a hand over his mouth, and when he notices your eyes are staring into his wide boba ones you smile innocently and tilt your head at him.

By the time both men recover, Chris is already pulling your sweatpants and underwear from your ankles, then moving his hands to the base of your crop top. He finally breaks away from your neck to pull it off, unintentionally showing off the red marks all over your neck to the couch. As the shirt gets pulled above your head, you hear a gasp from the couch and Chris’ voice against your ear. “And no bra? Baby.. you’re gonna kill them haha..”

You bite your lip and smile before teasing, “If they let themselves die this easily then you can have me all to yourself again.” You almost miss the way Changbin’s eyes narrow with how focused you are on Jisung’s growing pout. You hear Jisung let out a “Hey..” before you laugh and stick your tongue out at both boys. Immediately after, you feel your legs get hooked over Chris’ wide stance. 

He teases you by softly rubbing his hands against your inner thighs, nipping at your neck and ear as he does so. His left hand slowly trails up your stomach until he meets your chest and starts toying with your nipples. The hand still on your thigh trails up higher and higher until you feel him spreading your folds with his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to slide against your clit and down to your hole. You slump against him when you feel him slide two fingers in you, his thumb replacing his middle finger on your clit. You faintly hear Chris say something to the other boys about where they should try to angle their fingers. When he angles his hands the way he describes, it rips a desperate moan from your throat and your legs tighten against his.

Both boys on the couch adjust themselves in their pants at the sight of you spread so widely in front of them, Han nodding enthusiastically with each sentence that comes out of Chris’ mouth. With the fast pace his fingers set, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

You feel yourself getting close and Chris catches on very fast. He pulls his fingers away and lands a smack to your inner thigh before grabbing your chin and raising an eyebrow at you. “Did I say you could come yet? You didn’t even ask permission.” You almost miss Jisung’s moan at the action, but quickly respond with a, “N-No, Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

He tsks at you before softly running his hands along your thighs again, “Just because I’m showing the boys how to play with you doesn’t mean that our rules aren’t in place. Don’t be a bad girl and make me punish you in front of them already.”

“Yes, Daddy” you whine out as you nod feverishly, your orgasm fading away slowly. He hums before returning his hand to your cunt, playing with your folds as he gets lost in thought for a moment. You sigh and lean your head into his neck once releases your chin.

You almost say something about the lack of stimulation when Chris suddenly pushes you on your feet, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he quickly stands. He sits you on the chair but pulls you down so your ass is hanging off the chair, legs folded into each other as he puts you on display towards the couch. You feel butterflies in your stomach, remembering just exactly what Chris made you do the last time you both were in this position.

You shiver as his fingers softly caress your folds, he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Once he realizes that you knew what his plans were, he bites his lip and smirks down at you. When your lips open to say something, he suddenly returns the 2 fingers inside your hole to prevent words from forming. You guys hold eye contact for a moment, but once his fingers dig into your gummy spot roughly, your mouth opens in a gasp and your eyebrows raise. Your eyes threaten to close as you watch him meanly mimic your facial expression and rub against the spot harder.

Your legs already start to shake and you throw your head back against the chair with a whimper, closing your eyes when the stimulation is a little too much. A firm grip in your hair pulls your face to meet his, he places a gentle kiss to your lips before adding a third finger. He ruts them into your soppy cunt over and over again until you hear him laugh when your eyes slam shut again. You’re sure both boys can hear the wet noises coming from between your legs. You wish you could see their faces, but at this point you figure Chris is trying to put on a show for them so you don’t complain.

“F-Fuck!!! Daddyyy!! I-I can’t..” You cry out, one of your hands meets his and your nails dig into his wrist as your thighs clamp shut. He pulls his fingers out and pins both your hands against the top of the chair with his spare hand. He lands a slap on your cunt and doesn’t give you time to react before he slams three fingers back in and resumes his bullying pace.

He coos at you, pressing a kiss into your calf, “You can, baby girl…” He pauses before positioning his hand so that his palm could bully against your clit with the thrusts. His tone is much darker when he continues, “I won’t stop until you do. So you better give them a pretty view, yea?” You gush more around his fingers as and when you clench harshly, he leans down to push his lips against yours.

At this point, Han has caught on to what Chris is trying to do, and he finally can’t stand the tightness in his jeans so he removes them. He quickly pushes his boxers down and can’t stop himself from fisting his cock at the sight of your cunt and ass on display for them, your wet cunt dripping down your ass as Chris continues his pace. Changbin on the other hand, isn’t fully sure what is going on. But that doesn’t stop him from palming his bulge, biting into the pointer finger on his other hand to keep quiet.

The sounds coming from you somehow get louder and you pant into Chris’ mouth, moaning against his lips as you feel the knot snap in your stomach. Suddenly you squirt all over his arm, squealing into the kiss as Chris rides your high. He fingers into you roughly before giving you a second to squirt more, then forcing more out of you. He repeats this until you pull away from his lips and gasp desperately for air, and he finally slows his hand to almost a complete stop, letting you breathe. He softly slaps your cunt as he pulls away from you fully to admire the mess you made.

“I told you, baby girl.” He laughs, ghosting his hand over your inner thigh as he watches you glisten. He pulls away from you completely, pulling his shirt off in one go and using it to wipe your thighs down and throwing it onto the puddle you made on the floor. He pulls you back to your feet, and holds you up with both hands as your legs shake aggressively, before sitting back down and resuming the earlier position: you on his lap.

He showers your neck and your cheek in kisses as your legs stay glued shut, his thighs making sure of that as they stay against yours. One of his hands holds you against him while the other caresses your hip affectionately. He knows you’re not in this plane of existence from how quiet you are, so he tries his best to ground you with as much physical touch that he can offer.

After a short while, your soul finally returns to your body. You mumble something incoherent and he takes that as a sign that you’re still there. He giggles into your neck, trailing his kisses down to your shoulder. You feel his arms tighten around you before he’s whispering against your skin, “You alright, baby? What’s your color?”

You sigh into his hold and whisper back a “Yellow.. Just give me a minute.”

Once you deem yourself ready, you let him know. He reluctantly loosens his hold on you and clears his throat, placing a final kiss on your shoulder before looking up. “Now that she’s ready for you both.. who wants to play first?” Chris asks as he eyes dart between the boys you completely forgot about. The two in question glance at each other quickly before wordlessly deciding to keep quiet and let Chris choose. Chris nods in understanding before glancing over at the youngest and watching the way he’s slowly fisting his cock as he waits for the next move. Chris very quickly thinks back to the boundaries everybody set earlier and he smirks against your shoulder. He whispers something in your ear, just low enough so neither of the other men can hear it.

But when you smile and slide off Chris' lap, softly crawling towards Changbin on all fours, both boys on the couch suddenly fix their posture. Han almost whines at the thought of Changbin getting you first until he watches the oldest stand up and saunteer towards him. He gulps and looks up at the man, biting his lip when Chris leans down and grabs his chin to hold eye contact. “You still okay with us playing a little bit, Hannie?” Not fully trusting his voice, Jisung nods eagerly and allows Chris to take control, "Please..."

While the two boys to your right get lost in each other, you sit at Changbin’s feet and look up at him with puppy dog eyes. You even go as far as to tilt your head and rest your cheek against his knee. “Hi Binnie~” You whisper out, “Can you play with me? Pleasee?”

He curses under his breath and nods, “Y-Yeah.. Yeah we can play, Bunny.” You smile in response and bite your lip, undoing his jeans before pulling them off his legs. He pulls his shirt off as you leave soft kisses up his thighs. He shudders the closer to his crotch that you get, and breathes harshly when you place a kiss to his dick through his boxers. He sighs when you back away and pull his underwear down just enough so that his dick slaps against his tummy. You pause for a second to admire his width. He’s so hard and his tip has a mean red tint; you’re almost afraid of taking him.

Suddenly the man above you laughs and pulls you up onto his lap, letting his dick rest between you two. He quickly pulls you into a kiss, running his hands up and down your sides softly. Your own hands are running up and down his biceps and squeezing, finally relishing in the feeling of his muscles against your hands. When a hand of his slides down to your ass to squeeze, you smile into the kiss and angle your head so that you are making out even deeper. It’s very short lived however, because the hand that was squeezing your ass pulls back and lands a slap to your cheek.

You jump in against him and pull away from his lips, frowning at him. He laughs at you before landing another to your other cheek. “Those are for the little comment you made earlier about Chan getting you to himself after this.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest and snapping back, “Well soooomebody doesn’t know how to take a joke.” Changbin’s mouth opens slightly and his eyes narrow dangerously at you. If it wasn’t for the fire in your abdomen that grew from his stare, you would have been terrified and apologized right away.

You quickly think that should have been the case when a hand shoots forward and clamps around your neck, squeezing tightly right off the bat. You let out a gargled noise as his other hand lands 2 harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, massaging against them right after. “I’m sorry... What was that?”

Jisung and Chris pull a few inches away from each other at the sound. Jisung’s hips buck up into Chris’ hand and he lets out a pathetic whine at the sight of your ass cheeks already turning a darker red. The man above him lets out an exasperated laugh before saying “Oh yeah, I should’ve warned you two that she can be a stupid brat sometimes. I would say I’d teach you how to deal with it, but it seems like you got it under control already. You know what to do, baby. Be a good girl for Binnie, or else I'll handle you myself.” Changbin steals a confused glance at his hyung before returning his gaze to you, loosening his grip on your neck to give you more breathing room. He watches your eyes meet Chan's and you gulp deeply before wresting your hands on his chest.

“‘M sorry Binnie. I’ll be good now I promise.” His hand loosens the grip on your neck you all the way at your puppy dog eyes stare into his, but they stay resting against your throat as Chris speaks up again. “Not ‘Binnie’ baby.” Your eyes meet Chris’ again and he smiles at you teasingly, his hands still stroking Jisung at a slow pace that has the boy whining into his hand. You bite your lip at the sight of Jisung looking fucked out already and turn back to Changbin and retry, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll behave now.” You watch Changbin swallow thickly before leaning his head sideways and letting out a curse.

“Atta girl, baby.” Chris says, before turning back to the squirming boy below him.

Changbin quickly mutters an ‘Up’ before you climb out of his lap to stand in front of him. He quickly swaps spots with you, making you sit on the couch as he stands above you, kneeling against the cough to ground himself. He strokes himself a few times, not bothering to prepare you any more than Chan did already. He pulls your legs up and holds them near your chest, and then he finally sinks himself into you. He keeps his eyes on your face the whole time, mainly watching for possible comfort changes in your expression. But when your jaw drops at the stretch and you take over his hold on your legs, he can’t help himself from staring for other reasons. While you’re busy hugging your legs into yourself, he trails a hand to your mouth and positions his thumb to press down on your tongue. With every inch of his duck entering you, you swear you lose another piece of your mind. And after what feels like forever, his hips finally meet the backs of your thighs

He lets out a shaky sigh and lightly thrusts into you, testing the waters before pulling out farther and setting a calm pace. For a while, he softly thrusts into you, just savoring the feeling and sight of your tight cunt around his dick. It’s not until you let out a whine that his eyes return to your face. His hips stutter and he watches in awe as he pulls his thumb from your drooly mouth. While that thumb moves down to draw circles onto your clit, you look up at him pleadingly before begging so sweetly. “Please, Sir. Please I promised I’d be good. Just fuck me hard, please please please.”

From the other side of the couch, Chris’ ears perk up at the sound of your begging. He chuckles breathlessly and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the pretty boy who’s on his knees below him. “F-Fuck. Bin I usually have to overstimulate her for her to beg like that. You must’ve fucked her stupid already.”

Changbin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sentence and he starts up a rough pace, pounding into you fast before responding, “Y-Yeah? You think so?”

You throw your head into the couch at the new rhythm, nails digging into your legs at the stimulation. After squirting like that earlier, you’re not sure you can last very long and that’s made even more true by the sloppy presses you feel on your clit. Not long after this pace was set, you feel yourself rapidly approaching your high.

You manage out a: “Binnie- S-Sir, can I cum please.. I want you to cum inside… I’ve b-been good, right?” and he groans in response, nodding his head and leaning into you, his fingers never leaving your cunt and his pace never faltering. “Yeah, baby. Don’t worry, Binnie’s got you.” His body weight on your legs gives you an uncomfortable stretch, but when his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, you can’t find it in you to complain. Almost immediately after that, his spare hand leaves a slap to your ass, and you cum on impact. Your lips detach from his as you let out desperate wails, trying to take deep breaths while he slows his pace to make slower but deeper thrusts into you. His gaze meets your teary eyes before he dips to your neck, biting and sucking marks onto the skin. He follows suit not long after, groaning and biting harder subconsciously as he rides out his high.

You lay against each other, catching your breaths before you let out a pained whine. “Binnieee… my legs..” His mind is still foggy from that strong of an orgasm, so it takes him a second to pull away. Once he does, he softly rests your legs against the couch and massages the muscles, already knowing which ones would be hurting. He watches your mixtures of cum ooze out of your cunt, and onto the couch. He would normally freak out at such a viscous substance getting the couch dirty, but his zips his mouth shut and watches in awe for a moment. You don’t fully notice when he walks away due to getting distracted by the other end of the couch.

Chris let out a few gasps that turn to groans, signaling that he’s dangerously close. You quickly turn your head to watch as Jisung deep throats him all the way, even gagging a few times. You whine out something along the lines of, “That’s so hot..” but it meets none of their ears as Jisung’s nails rake down Chris’ thighs, his hips buckling as he cums hard. He throws his head back and holds a firm grip on Jisung’s permed hair as he thrusts softly into his mouth, quickly angling his head back towards the boy to watch him swallow around his length. Slowly the grip on the younger’s hair loosens, and you and Chris watch the boy on the floor with lidded eyes. Jisung hollows his cheeks and slowly pulls off the eldest’s dick, he matches the older’s gaze and shows off the contents on his tongue before making a show of swallowing it, showing his empty tongue after. Chris throws a hand over his eyes and whines, resting his head against the back cushion as you sit there and laugh. You and Jisung meet each other’s eyes before you wink at the boy, blowing him a kiss with a fucked out smile on your face.

By now Changbin is returning to the living room with a warm cloth, wiping you down gently before throwing it onto the pile of your clothes. Chris disappears to his room to grab shirts of his for you and Jisung while Changbin throws the scattered clothes of yours into his own hamper, and Jisung’s into his hamper. While the two eldest members run around cleaning, and preparing blankets and snacks for a cuddle session, you and Jisung embrace each other on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder as your breaths even out. You could fall asleep at this point, but you’re quickly distracted by the boy’s bulge in his underwear.

“Hannie… you’re still hard?” You laugh. His cheeks and ears turn red before he laughs too. “Yeah… I came in the beginning, but watching you and Changbin-hyung while watching Channie-hyung come undone got me hard again. It was all just too hot..” You laugh into his shoulder but trail one of your hands to the bulge, trailing a featherlight touch that has the boy’s thighs clamping together. “Can I help you then, Hannie? Me and you didn’t get to play. I can’t go another round but I’ll happily suck you off.”

You hear a shaky breath as his hips buck against your hand. “Fuck,, Yes please, baby.” Giggling, you drop down to your knees for a 2nd time tonight, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. You take it in your hands and pump it, placing teasing kisses up and down his shaft. You smirk against him when you feel his hand slip into your hair, grabbing a tight but not painful grip as a warning to stop teasing. You hum and lick a long stripe until you reach his tip, placing a final kiss there before you take him all the way to the hilt. The grip in your hair tightens as you hum and hold your spot against his pubic bone, some of the hair there tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him a few times before pulling away, stroking him while you rasp out, “You wanna fuck my mouth baby?"

You swear his eyes sparkle as he nods enthusiastically. His hands quickly move to rest against the back of your head, “Hit my thigh a few times if you need a break, ok?” You nod and smile up at him, happy that he still genuinely cares about your well being. Your smile fades as he moves your head against him, slowly fucking your mouth against his dick as he lets out a sigh. You hollow out your cheeks and feel the grip on your head get harder. He starts fucking himself into your throat, using all his will power to not do it as rough as he wanted to, ‘We can save that for another day’ he argues to himself. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his high, his thighs shaking as memories of what happened less than 10 minutes ago resurface to his mind.

He goes to pull you away as he cums, but you swat his hands away and take matters into your own hands, literally. One of your hands trails up his stomach, your nails ghosting around his chest as your other hand reaches up to fondle his balls. It’s all so sudden and he chokes on his own drool when he tries to warn you that he’s cumming, but regardless you swallow every last drop. Once his hips relax back into the couch, you pull back so that only the tip is in your mouth, sucking hard to get every last drop and he lets out the whiniest cry you’ve ever heard.

As the older boys return with blankets and snacks, you and Jisung pull away from each other. Eventually everybody is settled and a movie is chosen, the four of you cuddle up to each other and relax. Han is laying with his head against your chest when he suddenly lets out a laugh that startles your sleepy form. The three of you look down at him with different confused expressions before he chuckles to himself again.

“The others are missing out sooo bad.”

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #3racha x reader #3racha smut #changbin x reader #changbin smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #sian’s writing

[palioom]

starving

summary: joel comes back from patrol to find you have kept your promise to him.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; overstimulation; orgasm denial/edging; dirty talk (joel has a filthy mouth); oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some softness in the end; choking (a lil)

a/n: we're back after almost a month of hiatus, with a fic also written last summer! I hope you enjoy

thank you to my love @aurasjournal for the moodboard 🖤

IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 5 months.

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follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

She had been wound up tight all week - always was when Joel was on patrol somewhere, made worse by the fact that the way back had been cut off by an unexpected, small avalanche.

She was worried about whether he was safe up there with Tommy. He would be. Joel was good at surviving things, she gathered that much from the little talking he had done with her.

He was an interesting man, only too quiet, never liked to talk about his past too much, so she had gathered everything of importance from Ellie or Tommy once they had become a little more serious.

Of course he’d be fine.

But if she had known he’d be gone for a little over a week instead of a day or two, she never would have promised him shit before he left.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself, darlin’.” He had said to her before he left, his rough, calloused palm on the softness of her cheek. “Wanna see her dripping and needy for me when I come back.”

Oh, dripping and needy she was. And it was even now, having fought the urge back ever since day three.

Day one was easy, two became just a little annoying, so used to having his thick length buried inside of her almost daily. Unless he had to patrol, which really was the only time he didn’t fuck her. 

Because even when he was too exhausted, she would simply turn him onto his back and bounce on his dick until she was satisfied. Much to his amusement.

On day three, the throbbing between her legs became more than annoying, it bothered her, clouding her thinking. It was tempting to just sneak her hand into her underwear at home and get herself off with her fingers.

But she didn’t, only squeezing her thighs together to find some semblance of relief.

After that, things had only gone downhill.

So when he was finally back, safe and unharmed, it hadn’t taken long to go from sweet kisses by the entrance to demanding ones in their bedroom.

Ready to burst right here.

Joel had barely managed to take his thick winter coat off before she had dragged him there, his large hands now opening her flannel, then wandering beneath her undershirt to feel her warm skin.

A hiss left her, caught by his mouth as he pushed his tongue against hers, goosebumps breaking out on her skin at how icy he felt. Pressing himself against her as if to warm himself.

He was fucking freezing, his fingertips a little numb despite his thick gloves, and she was so damn warm, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Fuckin’ missed you, sweetheart.” Joel rasped, hands leaving her skin to open her jeans as quickly as he could, slowly regaining the feeling in his fingertips. “Been a good girl for me?”

She hummed affirmatively, stilling when he shoved his hand down the front of her jeans.

“Oh, baby, she’s desperate.” 

His cold fingers pressed against her clit over the wet material of her panties, the change in temperature making her shiver. That was almost enough to make her cum, her hand coming to claw at his wrist.

“Not like this- Fuck me, Joel.” She whispered, desperate and impatient. 

Surprised that he just pulled his hand back out, now hastily working to get her undressed, her own hands started working on his pants.

The air felt even colder when he had her naked, pushing her onto the bed, leaning over her to kiss and nip at her neck, then down to her chest.

His beard scratched over her skin, her hands in his grey hair, slightly wet from the snow. 

Like a man starving, he sucked bruises into her skin, bit at her until small imprints showed. Showed she was his.

Joel knew he didn’t have to worry, there were no signs she would ever stray. Not with the way he fucked her, the way he took care of her.

She had it too damn good with him, he kept the creeps away and generally kept an eye out for her.

Still, he liked to show she was his, that no one else could have her, even if they tried.

His tongue found her pebbled nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his hand squeezed and pinched at her other breast, making her arch into his touch with a drawn out whine.

She was always so responsive to his touch.

So cold but so good, goosebumps on her skin, hands tugging at his hair.

“Stop teasing.” She whispered breathlessly, earning a harder bite from him, his dark eyes finding hers as he looked up at her. So hungry.

“Someone’s impatient.” His mouth wandered lower, despite his words, hands staying on her breasts when he found her wet heat.

Joel's tongue dipped into her and made her moan, just about ready to burst. Especially with the way his tongue flicked over her clit, sucking on it before letting the tip glide over it again.

Joel noticed how quickly her legs started shaking, her fingers curling into his hair tightly, his own digging into her thighs as he spread her open. Feeling her muscles spasm below her skin as he kept licking at her, eating her out like she was his last meal.

It happened way too fast, throwing her head back as the coil inside her tightened and snapped so suddenly, her body shaking as her orgasm rushed through her unexpectedly.

“Oh fuck- Joel-” She moaned, her legs fighting against his broad hands but he kept her spread open, working her through it.

Too worked up from him having been gone that she just couldn’t last any longer, feeling a little self conscious about just how quickly he had pulled her apart already.

“Seriously, sweetheart?” Joel asked when he lifted his head, looking up at her from where he kneeled between her open thighs. His beard was wet with her, a ravenous expression on his face. “That was way too damn short, darlin’.”

His words burned on her skin, unable to look him in the eyes so she stared at the ceiling instead. 

That really was embarrassingly fast, her fingers carding through his silvery hair.

“Sorry, Joel. I’ve been so damn horny all week and-”

He shushed her, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh. His beard scratching her, making her shiver.

“Let’s go a little longer, I’m not done with you yet.” His chuckle was deep, tongue finding her middle again with a hum.

She whined, still a little sensitive as he worked his tongue over her clit repeatedly, back arching and her fingers curling back into his locks.

The heat came back immediately, settling in her abdomen, his tongue now moving down to find her soaking entrance, pushing inside.

Feeling her pulse around him when he fucked into her, his nose bumping against her clit in time with his movements, making her whine.

“Right there, Joel, yes!” She breathed, already feeling another orgasm approaching rapidly. “I’m close already, fuck. You feel good.”

Pushing her over a second time, he made her cry out, her legs shaking as he once again worked her through it.

But he didn’t stop. 

Joel just kept going, not giving her time to come down from her high, the buzz steadily moving through her body.

It was then that she realized he really was far from done with her, looking down at him with furrowed brows, while the glint in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“Joel-” She whined, feeling another rush coming, trying to scramble away from him somehow but he had an iron grip on her thighs.

He hummed against her, shaking his head No. She could swear he was grinning, doubling down on his efforts, tearing another orgasm from her.

The pleasure bordered on pain at this point, every nerve feeling like it was on fire as she shook, his tongue alternating between her clit and her pulsing hole.

God, he could be such an asshole, going on until tears were in her eyes, right on the brink of the fourth one.

Leaning back and licking his lips while he looked at her, squirming and shaking. A gasp left her when he worked two of his thick fingers into her, her legs clamping shut around his arm as he began to pump them in and out of her.

“Told you I’m not done with you yet, darlin’.” He rasped, using his other hand to open her legs again, teeth sinking into the soft skin before his tongue soothed over the marks. “She’s hungry still, must’ve been starving the whole time.”

Her hands fisted the sheets, head rolling from side to side as he built her up, scissoring his fingers before pushing into that soft spot inside of her again.

Then he let her fall, pulling his fingers out, laughing at the long whine that left her, the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Like she didn’t know what she wanted, to cum again or to be left alone.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Joel chuckled, like he was mocking her. Somehow she liked it, the pulsing between her legs becoming worse, feeling empty. “Thought I’d give your little pussy some lovin’, she must have been so neglected.”

She lifted her head, trying to glare daggers at him but failing when his fingers rubbed over her clit, once again building her up just short of the peak, then removing them, his hand finding her breast, groping and squeezing at it.

What wonderful sounds she made, first feeling too much and now too little.

Maybe he should leave for extended periods more often, she clearly enjoyed the way he treated her right now, making up for time lost but also depriving her of what she really wanted.

“You’re mean.” She gasped, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She looked so fucked out already, yet he hadn’t even gotten his fill.

“I can be mean, sweetheart.” Joel said, letting go of her again and standing up, just watching how she writhed, deprived of his rough palms. “Wouldn’t like me when I am.”

“Joel, please!” She cried, one of her hands wandering over her stomach and to her aching pussy. But Joel was quicker, grabbing her wrist tightly.

“Don’t worry, baby, gonna get what you want when you’re fucking patient.” He said, letting go of her, moving to take off his pants. “Spent a whole week without me, can wait a couple minutes longer, can’t you?”

She watched him, growing frustrated at just how slowly he seemed to take off his jeans, then his underwear.

Then, finally, his hard cock was springing free, head glistening with precum.

Hovering over her, he nestled in between her legs.

She squirmed more, her hands running over his arms, feeling his muscles flex beneath the skin, coming up to cup his cheeks.

“So, so needy.” He chuckled, taking himself in hand, hitting her sensitive clit with the fat head of his cock a few times. The action made her whimper, fingers curling into his arms. 

Shooting electricity through her, her whole body taut, just needing him to push inside of her.

“Joel, can you fucking move?”

The corner of his lips curled slightly upwards, finding her entrance before pushing inside with one fluid motion, knocking the air out of her at the sudden intrusion.

His lips attached to her neck with a groan, feeling how tight she was gripping him. Like she wanted to strangle his dick, always so damn tight.

“Don’t get mouthy with me, sweetheart.” Joel said, hooking her leg over his hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

“‘M not.” She gasped, feeling so full of him, ready to burst again.

Slowly he began to move, shallow at first before thrusting deeper.

Pushing her up higher on the bed with each thrust, making her cry out and hold onto him, her head too dizzy and hazy as he fucked into her, letting out the week’s frustrations.

All that escaped her were incoherent ramblings, slurred whimpers and moans as she threw her head back, exposing more of her neck to him, his lips still dancing over the skin. 

“Shut up pretty fast with some cock in you, sweet darlin’.” He chuckled, voice strained and clearly losing himself slowly. Her wet pussy and her cockdrunk face were too much even for him after he’d been away from her that long. 

He’d gone without it for longer, but now that he could fuck her every night, even just a day had seemed like an awfully long time.

“Joel-” She mewled, voice high-pitched and so, so desperate.

“Yeah, tell me who makes you feel this good.” Joel said, lifting his head to look at her, one of his broad, rough hands coming up to wrap around her throat. Making her gasp as he squeezed the sides lightly, feeling her pulse throb in time with her sweet hole around him. “Say it, baby, keep sayin’ it. Whose cock is feeding your starvin’ pussy?”

She opened her eyes, finding his dark ones. 

“You- Yours, Joel!” She cried out, feeling her head become lighter as he cut off the blood flow, hazy smile on her face, jaw slack as he fucked into her. The words caught on her breath as she forced them out, stuttering. “Your cock, fucking- Fucking me so good!”

Joel almost snarled, thrusting harder, losing his rhythm. Jaw set so tight she could see the veins throb on his neck.

“That’s right, pretty girl. Hungry little pussy, what a poor thing.” He groaned, grip tightening around her throat, grinning at the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me feed it.”

The coil inside her snapped again, almost painfully as she sucked in a shaky breath, her cries muffled by his mouth when he bent down to slot his lips over hers. Her heels dug into his lower back, pulling him deeper as she trembled, nails digging into his skin.

Everything hurt as he kept pounding into her, her veins filled with fire, his skin against hers hot, like it was burning her, her clit too sensitive as the coarse hair above his dick kept brushing against it.

But she loved it, the pleasure that wasn’t bordering on pain anymore, but actually hurt her in the best way possible, her entire body too stimulated.

It didn’t need much more for him to break, stilling inside her with a hiss that was swallowed by her mouth as he spilled himself inside of her, giving her exactly what she needed. Filled to the brim by his cock and his cum, humming as the pulsing of him didn’t seem to end, his hand around her throat just tightening a little more.

He loosened his grip when he felt her legs falling away from his waist, moving back to look at her face, blissed out while her body became boneless beneath him.

“My good girl.” He said, seeming less tense as he hovered above her still, the corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards, his hand moving up to brush some hair from her damp forehead. “Been too hungry.”

She giggled, catching her breath, feeling the blood rush back into her head as she laid there, feeling him soften inside of her.

“Not anymore.” The words were barely more than a quiet mumble, her weak hand coming up to cup his cheek, his coarse beard biting into the soft flesh of her palm. “Really missed you, though.”

In the quiet afterglow, the worry finally crept back in. She had been too pent up, too excited when he had walked into the door earlier, relieved to see him back but her need for him drove away all the worries of the past week.

Joel saw the change in her face, kissing her forehead tenderly.

“Been at the lodge when it happened, don’t worry, sweetheart.” He said, seeing her nod in understanding.

Silence fell between them, and she grew tired as she looked up at him, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Joel had worn her out pretty well, boneless and spent.

After pulling out slowly, he helped her get under the covers, his body finally warm again as he pulled her against his chest.

“You can take longer patrols, you know.” She said, her hot breath fanning over his neck where she had buried her face. “Hated you being away but if you fuck me like this every time you come home…”

Her words trailed off into the silence, making him chuckle.

“But no avalanches.” He said, making her giggle. “Love when she’s starved for me, sweetheart. Will see what I can do tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, eyes closing and enjoying his warmth again, his firm body against hers, strong arm wrapped around her waist.

Yeah, if he fucked her like this every time he came home from a long stretch of patrol, she definitely could manage being away from him for some time.

Starving for his touch and his cock.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

[littlejuicebox]

My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #tav x astarion #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x gender neutral reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion romance #astarion fluff #bg3 fluff #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion ancunin #5 days of starmas #bg3holidayfluffle23

[tiredcowboyy]

I cant stop thinking ab the idea of merlin one day post s5, where they all survived, becoming really secretive and protective of his room and not telling anyone at all whats inside. Not even gaius. He even gets a lock installed and whenever anybody asks he brushes it off with jokes like “its to stop arthur from finding me” or smth.

he also unrelatedly really hates any talk of destiny, going to war, and anytime morgana mentions her fear of her magic turning her merlin slightly freaks out.

That is until one day gaius manages to catch merlin off guard while hes rushing between the main room and his bedroom and walks in.

Only to see a whole bunch of stuff that hes never seen before.

Merlin freaks out, tries to play it off as some weird experiments and stuff hes been collecting but gaius can feel it, somethings different about these items, not wrong but not right. Not really magic either.

It takes 3 weeks of gaius pestering him before merlin breaks and explains to him that he IS A TIME TRAVELER. after the battle of camlan as we know it that lead to arthurs death, merlin did wait, he really did, but in the year 2020 when arthur didnt return for yet another global crisis, merlin broke and did spell upon spell until he figured out how throw himself back in time.

And holy shit did it work well. He managed to come back just at the perfect time to change everything that needed to be done to assure that everyone lives happily and safely, and when he realises hes done it, he decides to stay in this time. See his friends and family grow old as they should have. See arthur rule as he should have. Live the life he has been craving to go back to for centuries now.

Until a month in he realises how old everything is. Sure merlin can survive without his phone and stuff but theres a few things he really misses. Like his slippers, his potato peeler, his favourite hoodie, and especially his favourite tea flavours.

So once in a while he allowed himself to go back to the modern day and bring one thing back. He started with a scented candle, because candles exist in camelot and having one here shouldn’t mess up time right? Then moved onto a herbal tea that he knows if he traveled past the boarders he may be able to find similar ingredients.

Then he brings a new release of his favourite book series because he cant help it and realises small things like that dont change time.

And so thats what he’s been hiding away in his room, all of his modern day stuff. Ranging from trinkets hes collected over his life to his favourite scarf to his stuffed lion that he won at a fair in the 80s. He doesn’t go back often, only when his tea runs out or he really needs something, he tries to limit it he really does.

It takes gaius another 4 weeks to wrap his head around it all. Another 2 weeks after that to touch merlins stuffed lion thinking it may attack him at any moment.

He makes gaius promise to not tell a soul, offering him tea bags as payment. They have a nice system from then on, gaius would try a new flavour of tea everytime merlin returned, once in a while he would also bring a modern day snack (gaius yelled when he first tried salt and vinegar crisps).

A yell which led to leon finding out. And so a cycle began.

#merlin #merlin prompt #merlin fic #someone please write this #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #merlin bbc #sir gwaine #gaius #gaius and merlin #merlin and gaius #merlin incorrect quotes #modern au #modern merlin #time travel #time traveler merlin #time traveler #merthur #sir leon #tiredcowboyys prompt #tiredcowboyys shenanigans

[xazse]

(here is your answer for the naga scara x fem or male reader) DO ANY GENDER IDC IM JUST FOAMING AT THE MOUTH RN LIKE A DOG FOR YOUR POST RIGHT NEOWOOWOWOW NEOWOWOWOWO (I would prefer fem reader, but idc about the gender. Just gimme the story bbg) (Also, stay healthy!1 <3)

Notes: I know I have other requests but this was too tempting, thank you so much for the health comment!! I HOPE YALL ARE STILL AROUND!! Btw I’m not sure about Naga Anatomy so his cocks are like hidden in slits/pockets.

Pairings: Naga!Scaramouche x Fem!NaiveReader

Tags: Naive!Reader, 2 Cocks, Scara is kinda creepy but sweetish, fingering, Virgin!Reader, Sheltered!Reader, Fem!Reader, SMUT, NOT PROOFREAD

Naga Scaramouche who is entranced by the sheltered village girl: you, a pretty thing that won’t stray too far into the forest.

Naga Scaramouche whos very patient watching you from the trees, he watches as the short dress you wear rises up just a few inches when you pick a berry too high for you. The tight white panties seem to hug your ass so good.

Naga Scaramouche who can’t wait to have you underneath him, coiled in his tail and in his embrace.

Naga Scaramouche who finally has the opportunity to attempt to speak with you, you had gotten a little lost when you decide your pickings of berries weren’t up to standard, a lost lamb like yourself practically in tears searching every direction to try to remember where home is.

Naga Scaramouche who introduces himself and you’re scared shitless, you’ve only heard of his kind in the stories your mother would tell you to scare you into being good. He’s big, but you can’t deny how pretty he is, his tail is a deep purple hue as well as his pretty mauve long hair that cascades down his back and stops at his lower abdomen, mentioning that, he’s shirtless.

Naga Scaramouche who offers to lead the pretty lamb to safety, warning you that there’s dangers that would do awful things to such a weak thing like yourself. That he does, leading you safely to the outskirts of your village, during the whole walk you can’t stop stealing glances at the beautiful mystery man. He can hear your parents are calling your name with desperate urgency. You look back at him to offer a thank you, but discover he’s gone.

You who comes back a few days later at the spot he had dropped you off at, you bring a cooked rabbit stew as a gift to give to him or at least hope you can give it. a few minutes later you can hear rustling and a voice speaks up: “A gift? For me perhaps?” You face the man once again in all his beauty you nod quickly and he laughs at that.

Exchanges are had over the next few months, with you listening and talking to “Scaramouche” you learn his name is. He seems rather dodgy with questions about himself but wants you to talk about yourself all the time, you have no issues with it, deciding later on he’d become more open.

Scaramouche looks at you weirdly, a look you can’t quite decipher, it’s like he’s looking through you, and you hate that. You hate how weird and tingly it makes you feel, how you feel weird even down there. You don’t have anyone to talk to about this feeling so it’s bottled up and held in.

Scaramouche makes it subtle at first, glancing at you, making sure to make eye contact even though your eyes dart to avoid his, light touches on your arms, thighs, and neck. He knows what he’s doing to you and he doesn’t feel a bit bad about it, he wants to claim you already, his cock can only be contained for so long, it’s getting harder and harder but he feels a few more pushes will bring you right along.

After a whole week you’ve given up, you come to him with all your issues and how confused and foggy you feel around him, you suggest distancing yourself away from him for a little. He hates that idea you can tell by the dark swirl in his eyes, he calms himself and calms you. Putting his hand on the small of your back he whispers lowly on how he’ll help you, help you get rid of all your problems.

You accept of course, as pliant as ever.

He helps you relax on the forest floor, a beautiful light pouring in to emphasize the glow of his gorgeous tail. He starts by asking you to lift your dress, and you listen obediently. Your supple skin now for him to revel in, but it’s not nearly enough. Your panties are on display as well, the thing seems to be squeezing you just like the last pair. Thin fingers grab one of your thighs and lifts it up in the air in your direction, being mindful to watch his sharp fingernails as they clench around the fat.

He uses the palm of his fingertip to trace the outline of your wet cunt, that makes your breath hitch, his fingers are warm or maybe it’s you who’s warm as he continues to trace and examine you. Scaramouche presses on your clit just a little bit, he’s testing the waters. That does bring out a reaction: you clutch your fingers around the fabric of your dress that you still hold.

You feel impatient even though you’re just getting started, new feelings are swirling in your gut when he lays down on his stomach near your pussy. Scaramouche doesn’t want to rid you of your panties just yet, the wet patch in the middle arouses him so much. He pulls them to the side to reveal your glistening cunt: he’s never seen a humans area before not unless they were in books and he did quite a lot of studying on women’s anatomy but having the real thing makes his cock ache, he wants to be buried deep in you but before that he needs to prep you.

Scaramouche licks a long stride up your cunt from bottom to top, a whine leaves your throat at the new feeling of something foreign but not unwanted, based on your reaction he does it again and again till he’s lapping up a good bit of your cum: and god do you taste heavenly, he finds himself completely entranced with licking you over and over, you aren’t fairing any better with the way your hips have started to buck towards more pleasure. Lewd moans keep filling the forest around you paired with Scaramouches loud sucking, he guides his tongue to your clit, licking around it before completely engulfing the sensitive thing in his mouth.

A tightness is forming in your belly, you urge Scaramouche that something happening and maybe he should slow down, he doubles down and both of his hands are holding your thighs up: pinning you in place as he keeps abusing your poor clit. Your whining gets even more pitched up before you spasm and cum on his face. He takes the opportunity to slide a finger inside of your tight hole: it does prove to be difficult but he does fit about a quarter of one in. He starts up the process of stretching you out to accommodate him.

After a while you’re finally ready, but you can only take about half of him or he’s pretty sure you’d start up your crying. You lay staring at his actions with lust ridden eyes: he’s going to ruin you. His long tail grabs you by your waist, lifting you to sit right on where his cocks lays hidden.

He’s really had enough of edging himself, with your full attention he guides your hands to, two slits: intrigued you make a move to press your finger in and he jumps to grab your hand as fast as possible, you make a certain worried face at him and he shakes his head to reassure you. He decides that was a bad idea and takes his cock out himself, he has two but he doesn’t want to spook you straight away, well more than he already has.

He begins stroking himself while you watch, you lean forward: relaxing your hands on either side of his body. You’re thinking how his cock is just as pretty as him. A low groan slips from his lips, hes stroking himself from his balls to his tip: squeezing just a bit every so often.

When he’s done with that he lifts you up till your cunt is hovering over him, he lines himself up and slides in: a loud moan now leaves both your lips, for you it’s the stretch of his thick tip and for him it’s the tight rim he still has to push past. After a good bit he’s now leaned on a rock while holding your body so you don’t hurt yourself and end up having all of him in you, that’s for later.

A rhythm is developed, with him fucking you only last a certain point, your gooey insides feel so good around him, his head falls against the rock but he doesn’t stop lifting and pulling you back down. His head feels heady with need, he’d love to just shove you down all the way. You aren’t fairing any better, already seeming like you were cum again: dazed and dumb that’s how his cock had you.

Scaramouche thinks this feels better than those nights were he’d pump his cock to the thought of doing you like this, the real thing is so much more better obviously.

He speeds up his pace, angling his cock a tad bit deeper. He pulls out and slams back in, he brings you into a tight embrace before he’s cumming, the feeling of something warm also sending you over and you cream around his cock. Afterwards he’s decorating kisses all over your face, cooing at how perfect you are, how good you made him feel and how good you’ll both feel in the future

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #zsworks #fem reader #wanderer smut #wanderer x female reader #naga Scaramouche #naga wanderer #scaramouche x female reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi x reader

[crdteezv]

Untitled - Han

Paring: !childhood friends to lovers! , perv!han jisung  x afab! reader

Genre:  idol! Au, smut

Synopsis: You finally reunited with your childhood best friend after 10 years! But, you didn’t notice how much he changed since you last saw each other…

Warnings:  smut, rough sex, dub/non-con, somno, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, fingering, groping, use of sex toys, voyeurism, manhandling, overstimulation, unprotected sex 

Word Count: 2.5k words

A/n: This was requested by someone a long time ago and I decided to post it now. This does contain CNC (aka consensual non consent) & if that’s something you’re not comfortable with please DON’T READ THIS!!!

One late night, you and Jisung were in a convenience store. He was up late in the studio working on a song with Chan. On his way home, he thought he should stop by and grab some food.  You so happened to be there wanting the same thing. The aisles were really small and you had barely any room to walk around. You accidentally bump into him and he looks at you with a confused look. 

Then it hit him.

You both used to be childhood friends and practically grew up with each other. You were also neighbors at one point and used to hang out all the time. Sadly at the beginning of high school, you had to move away. You both lost contact with each other and haven’t spoken since then. 

“Hey, do you remember me? Han Jisung? We used to be neighbors and would hang out all the time.”

In that moment all the memories you shared with him came back. You were shocked, to say the least. Who would’ve thought you would reunite with Jisung in a convenience store of all places?

“OH MY GOD YES! I do remember you, Jising how have you been?”

He was so relieved that you remembered him. It's been over 10 years since you last saw each other. Even after all this time, he can still recall your beautiful smile.

“I’ve been good and I took your advice and focused on music! I am now a part of an Idol group. Thank you for always motivating me to become an Idol.”

“Aww of course! I still can’t believe you remember me telling you to go for it. That was such a long time ago. I was just a kid and would just be saying whatever really.”

"Well, how could I forget someone like you? You were my best friend - I was too shy to talk to anyone else."

Both of you shared a laugh. Jisung usually stuck to his close friends and found it difficult to make new ones. As he mentioned, you were his only true best friend.

“Well, I knew you would love pursuing a music career! I recently moved back here for school!”

♡♡♡♡

From that point on you and Jisung talked the whole night, he even walked you home. You exchanged numbers and would hang out when you both could. One thing led to another and he asked you officially on a date. You both knew you had feelings for each other. 

You and Jisung got into a relationship not too long ago after that. It’s only been about 5 months and still very fresh and new. Sadly, after dating for 2 months, he had to go on a tour with all the members. So the majority of your relationship was long-distance. You still were learning so much about each other at this point. 

However, people can change in the span of 10 years. Although Jisung was still the same kind-hearted and witty guy,  you knew something was different about him. 

Jisung became such a pervert for you and you didn’t even know it. 

It only took you guys reconnecting recently to realize how obsessed he was with you. Before you started dating, he would sometimes come over to your apartment late as a surprise. Given how often he was at your place, you had given him a spare key. 

One night he left the studio early and went straight to your place because he missed your company. He entered your apartment and kept calling out your name. He was confused when he didn’t hear you give a response back. He saw that your bedroom was opened a little bit and you were moaning out loud. He was taken aback by what he was seeing right now. He always would think of you in a sexual light but this was too much for him. 

Your legs were spread open as you used your dildo. You let your imagination go wild and imagine Jisung was the one pounding into you. You were so horny you even moaned out his name.

He felt so hard after seeing all the things you were doing to yourself. He also felt really bad because he knew he was not even supposed to be here right now. He just wanted to watch a movie with you like he always does before he goes home. Jisung always loved watching movies with you, especially the cheesy romance movies. You would both make fun of the actors and how bad their acting was.

Instead, he was outside of your room stroking his cock to your moans. 

He was imagining that he was making you feel this good. He tried to not make a noise so you didn’t suspect anything. It wouldn’t even matter anyway because you were too busy in your own world fucking yourself to the thought of him. He eventually came at the same time that you did. 

Jisung realized how perverted he was jerking himself outside of your room without you even knowing. He quickly cleaned up himself and left your place before you noticed. He never told you about that night.

There are a lot of things he doesn’t tell you.

Sometimes you would send him some scandalous photos of yourself to see if you look good. You would ask him so you can get a guy's perspective on it. 

However, he would secretly save them on his phone and beat off to them later. He always tells himself he will delete them and will never do it again. Yet, every time he is horny, he keeps on going back to those photos in his folder of you and gains so much gratification from it.

He was so obsessed with you that every little thing you did would turn him on. The way you put him in a trance from just your moans alone was insane. All he can think about is the first time he caught you getting off to him. 

Now ever since you have been dating, you guys see each other less since he recently went on tour.  All these nights you guys would spend without each other was so hard for him. It was so bad to the point that he would sometimes hide in the hotel bathroom and jerk off to your pics and videos he still had saved of you. 

This was so embarrassing for him and he already felt like shit doing all this behind your back. But, he was too far gone give a fuck about it now. He always thinks about how disgusted you’d probably feel if you ever found out about his secret collection of you. 

He just misses being with you in person instead of calling on FaceTime. It was getting frustrating for him and all he wanted to do is fuck you. 

However, tonight was his last straw and he couldn’t take it anymore. He has been back from touring for about a week now. He took some time to recover before seeing you. He knows the moment he sees you it's going to be over for him.

Unfortunately, he had to be in the studio tonight with Chan and Changbin making some new music. It really sucked because today you and him were supposed to hang out after he was done working. But at the last minute, Chan told him he needed his help on this song he was thinking of making. The whole time Han was thinking about your moans from all the times he would touch himself to you.

He kept on getting distracted and barely gave any help to Chan and Changbin.

“Hey Jisung, are you okay? You’re normally not this quiet.” Chan said.

Jisung knew that he wasn’t ok.

All he wanted to do was go to your apartment and fuck the shit out of you. He has been pent up for too long now. You and him only had sex a handful of times and you have been without each other for 3 months.

“Yeah, I'm just a little distracted right now. Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be much help tonight.”

“Hey, it’s ok! I know how tired you may feel after the tour so you can go home tonight. Have a good night!”

Jisung nodded his head and quickly left the studio. There was only one thing on his mind right now.

You.

He went straight to your place and opened the door with his key. He noticed you were asleep, lying on your side. Under the covers, you had your vibrator in your hands, and you were passed out on the bed.

That alone made him so hard. The thought of you using it and moaning out his name is driving him crazy. 

He started taking off his clothes leaving himself in just his boxers. He gets into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. You were barely awake but you leaned back against him not even realizing he was there with you. 

He started grinding against you and became hard for you. He couldn’t hold back and started grunting out loud. At this point, you started to wake up. You felt afraid as the room was dark, making it hard for you to realize that it was Jisung. In your drowsy state, you half-awake, you thought he was an intruder.

You start to panic.

“Hey, who is there? Get the fuck off of me-”

You started hearing a buzzing sound. 

It was your vibrator and he started to push it against your clit to try and make you stop talking.

“Shh sweetie it’s me. I am sorry you just got me soo fucking hard and I can’t take it anymore.”

You were in a state of shock and disbelief. You have never seen Jisung like this before.

“Mhmm I know you’re but I already came and I am too tired to do it again. Can’t we just do it in the morning?”

If only it was that simple.

Jisung's patience was running thin and he decided to not hold back anymore.

He covered your mouth and whispered in your ear and said 

“I’m sorry baby, but tonight I am going to take what I want. And right now I need you to just let me fuck you.”

At this point, you were squirming around and yelling at him to stop it. You really weren’t in the mood for all this. He kept getting agitated and started putting his hand around your neck and began choking you. As he did that he started marking you and biting your neck and shoulders. With his other hand, he started to pump into his cock and get off to your cries and whimpers. 

“You're squirming so much for me baby and I think it's so cute. The more you struggle, the harder you’re gonna get me"

You couldn’t believe what Jisung was saying to you right now. Your perception of him completely changed now. You thought he was sweet-hearted and nice and not such a creep and pervert. 

He couldn’t take it anymore and started lowering his boxers and took out his cock. 

You can already feel the precum that was escaping him and how needy he was for you. He started slowly pushing it in you. You gasped out so loud even though he was covering your mouth. 

You forgot how big he was.

He also put his hands under your shirt and held onto them as he started pounding up into you. He also had the vibrator on your clit too.  He started leaving hickeys all over your neck. He didn’t care what he was doing at this point he was marking where he felt like it. 

You were still whining and crying from how hard he is fucking you and the vibrator on your clit wasn’t making it any better. 

“Stop making so much noise sweetie, I already feel bad as is.”

You started crying at this point because all you want for him is to stop but he just keeps on going. He says such sinful stuff in your ear that you don’t even know how to feel at this point.

He started laughing at you crying from his dick,

“Aww baby, are you crying from how hard I’m fucking you? You’re so pathetic can’t even take a couple of hard strokes.”

You didn’t know why but for some reason when he said that you started to tighten up around him. That alone made you feel wetter. 

He noticed it.

“Mhmm look at you becoming such a good girl for me. I knew deep down you secretly wanted this.”

You kept shaking your head, displaying that you were against this.

That just made him more hard and started fuck you harder and harder. You started to become so dizzy from all this stimulation. 

Jisung was at his breaking point.

 All this overstimulation started to become overwhelming for you. You wondered why he wasn't pulling out, as he usually does when you both are close. However, this time, he continues without stopping, still thrusting into you.

“ I am sorry but tonight, I have to finish inside you. I have been waiting for 3 fucking months. So how about you be good to me and take what I give you ok darling?”

At this point, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

He took his hand off your mouth as you both came at the same time. You didn’t give a fuck at this point you were practically screaming out his name as he pumps his load into you. Both your moans were so loud you wouldn’t be shocked if your neighbors heard you. 

Jisung fell back beside you and pulled you into him. He put you on his chest and wrapped his arms around you. He started kissing you all over and said

“Sweetie, I’m sorry for the way I acted out tonight. I just missed being with you these past 3 months. Especially being inside of you. Fuck I missed that soo much and having you moan out my name.”

You nuzzled into his chest and said “Yeah it's okay and I missed you so much too. Next time just tell me whenever you're in the mood. Tonight you really scared me. I hope you don’t act like this again.”

“Fine, I’ll never act out like that ever again and I am truly sorry if I hurt you.”

However, you both knew that wasn’t true and he would always come to take what he wants…

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #bang chan smut #lee know smut #seo changbin smut #han jisung smut #han smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #lee felix smut #seungmin smut #i.n smut #jeongin smut #perv!skz #han jisung x reader #perv!han x reader #perv!jisung x reader #han x reader

[theabigailthorn]

Hey I’ve been a fan for a little while now, and I just wanted to say that you’ve been an inspiration for me, a younger transfemme. But I do wanna also ask: what’s it like being a trans woman with her life together? I’m 19 (as of sending), been on hrt for almost 5 months, and have been trans for a year and change. But I’m scared. So, I guess, I wanted to ask: does being trans ever become the norm, my baseline? What’s it like after 2-3 years? And does it get any less confusing or scary?

I think there are a few things going on here.

I don't have my life together as much as it might seem; I just don't show you all the ways it's not. I don't talk publicly about the auditions I don't get, or the things I try and fail at, or the insecurities in my own head that hold me back sometimes, or the handful of decisions I've made that were bad calls and which still keep me up occasionally. I've talked about trauma and mental illness in the past, but I only ever discuss stuff I'm comfortably over - when I'm overwhelmed or in the middle of a crisis I don't post about it. I don't set out to deceive you by presenting myself that way, I just keep my most private stuff private. Everybody has failures and regrets and insecurities: "it's a sign of having lived," as my friend Phoebe told me today. But you see a curated version of me that appears not only more together than the real person, but more together than any real person.

Also, if you're 19 a lot of your life hasn't been in your control until pretty recently and a lot of it still might not be. I'd say it's okay to not feel like you have it all together. You just transitioned, which I think is one of the hardest things a human being can do: you can give yourself credit for that even if you feel like you're not settled into it yet. Congratulations!

As for it becoming the baseline, I mean yeah? Kinda? At least for me. Sometimes I forget. I had a moment today in the gym where I saw a man and I was like "Oh yeah, I used to be one of them, sortof? Weird!" The first year is the hardest, or so they say. I wouldn't say I get less confused or scared now, just scared and confused in different ways. I worry less about getting attacked in the street than I did in my first year, for example. (I'm lucky and privileged in that regard.) But I worry a lot more about other people. I struggle a lot with survivor's guilt, which is something only people who survive get! Anyone who's had a drink with me in the last six months has heard me beat myself up because the night of The Prince premiere in New York was the night of Brianna Taylor's vigil in the UK. That wasn't a deliberate decision - the premiere was booked and paid for months before she was even killed - but I've become a lot more sensitive to those sorts of feelings precisely because I spend less time worrying about myself. I'm more aware now of what my transness means for other people. Like, I made an ironic joke when I came out that I'd become The Transgender Princess of TERF Island, and it's kindof haunted me since - I didn't set out to become "a famous trans person" but it's happened a little bit and it's going to happen a lot more next year. That comes with serious responsibilities and a few mild drawbacks, as well as perks, obviously. So I guess that's a longwinded way of saying I might be a weird person to ask this question because, at least for right now, my transness, my whole self, doesn't just belong to me.

Oh also, some great advice I got from my friends: Paris: "Only change the things that bother you on your good days," and Mattie: "Don't believe anything you think about your life after 9pm."

[watchmegetobsessed]

ONE YEAR

A/N: heeey look at that! im posting something new again!

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: On the day before Christmas you realize just how much has changed in one year.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Time has always been such a weird concept in your life. When you were a kid one year felt like a decade, week-long summer vacations felt endless and you could have sworn that you’d never grow up.

But then, of course, you did, like everyone else and time sneakily started to speed up. One day after the other, weeks turned into months and years and before you could realize, another birthday has passed, you got older even though the last one felt like it was yesterday.

One year can feel like a second, but it can also make such a difference and today, the day before Christmas you’re reminded of it. 

Waking up you’re not surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. The mornings when you could peacefully cuddle with Harry are now long gone, but knowing that he is somewhere out with your daughter makes up for all the missed moments together in bed. 

Stretching long you give yourself a couple more minutes to just rest and get your head ready for the day. The night wasn’t too rough, only had to wake up twice to feed Alma and she went back to sleep without a fuss this time. Maybe she can finally feel the Christmas spirit as well and her gift is to let you rest finally.

Sitting up in bed you turn towards the window and see that it’s still snowing, the street outside is clothed in the prettiest white blankets that’s almost entirely untouched since it’s so early in the morning. Your wish for Alma to have a first Christmas with snow is actually coming true.

Snatching one of Harry’s hoodies from the closet, you make your way out of the bedroom as you’re putting it on, noticing his voice coming from the living room the moment you reach the stairs.  Trying to be as quiet as possible you head down, hearing his cooing voice that’s for sure for Alma.

“See them? You like them? They are pretty, right?”

He has the most soothing voice as it is, but whenever he is talking to Alma it feels like it softens even more, as if that little girl melts the man in every possible way.

Well, that’s kind of the truth, Harry is smitten with his girl.

Harry is standing by the window that watches over the snowy street, the lights of the christmas tree reflecting in the glass because it’s still a bit dark outside. He is holding Alma in one arm, holding the curtains to the side with his free hand, gently swaying from side to side, a motion that always calms your baby, but only when her daddy does it. 

As you watch them in awe you think back to this exact day a year ago. It’s one to remember, because this was the day you found out you were pregnant and you shared the news with Harry. As much as you love your daughter, it’s no secret you weren’t planning her arrival so soon. Harry proposed just weeks before the pregnancy came into the picture and you both agreed to take some time just for the two of you, enjoy married life alone before expanding your family. Travel, explore, find yourself before becoming parents.

All those plans changed when the second line appeared on your test. 

Harry was surprised, maybe even shocked a bit. Not because he didn’t want kids, but because he was planning with another timeline that only included babies in 2-3 years. You talked for long hours that day and he told you he doesn’t feel ready, that he’s afraid he might not be the best father our baby deserves and he’s scared he might mess it up. You both cried and shared all your feelings and thoughts. 

It took time for him to settle with the idea of becoming a father earlier than he planned, but by the time the nursery was done, he was a changed man. Throughout your pregnancy he did everything he could to better himself and be ready for Alma’s arrival. He read every possible parenting book out there, always took care of you and looked for ways to be more present in this new chapter of your life together. 

Now it’s been four months since Alma was born and Harry is easily the best father you could ever wish for your baby and you’re so proud of him for everything he does for you and Alma as well. There’s no trace of that scared, doubtful man you sat on the couch with a year ago, the positive pregnancy test lying on the coffee table in front of you. 

Alma’s head turns, as if she had a sixth sense to notice when you’re around and she gives you a toothless grin as you make your way across the room. Harry turns and you see the same sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you that you saw the first time you met. He says he knew he would marry you one day the moment he laid his eyes on you. You believe him, because you felt the same way. 

“Good morning you two,” you smile, pressing a kiss to Alma’s forehead and one to Harry’s lips. 

“Morning Mommy, we didn’t wake you up, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. Alma visibly starts to wiggle towards you, Harry hands her over and she lays her head to your chest right away, her tiny hands grabbing onto the sweatshirt that smells like Harry. 

“Princess is kinda hungry, but I thought I could prolong breakfast a bit and distract her with the snow.” Harry smiles gently, running his knuckles down the side of Alma’s round face. 

“You like the snow, huh? We’ll see how much you like it when we’re outside in the cold,” you chuckle. 

You move over to the couch and Harry follows you, you sit beside each other, Harry’s arm instantly comes around you, pulling you against his chest as you settle Alma in your arms to feed her. This has been your usual for the morning feeding, but almost all feeding, because Harry loves being present in these moments. All those sleepless nights when she woke up every two hours and you had to sit in the nursery for most of the night to feed her, Harry was there every time. If you weren’t sleeping, he wasn’t either, even if all he could do was just be there, run his fingers through your hair and tell you how great of a mother you are, he never missed a chance to be present. 

As usual, Alma passes out in your arms once her tummy is full and you can’t help but just stare at her and think of how you can’t imagine your life without her now. 

Turning your head you find Harry gazing down at her as well with sparkling eyes and you wish to see him like this, so happy and content every day for the rest of your life.

“What?” he asks with a tiny, shy smirk, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Just… I was thinking about how much has happened in one year.”

Harry hums and you know he is thinking about the same thing from last year. 

“Yeah. It’s crazy. Can’t wait to see what the next one holds.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

[thelastofhyde]

you cut your hair, and take some space (2)

pairing. narcos!javier peña x fem!reader

synopsis. an anthology of events that precede and procede the termination of you and your father's best friend's sexual relationship. this is part 2 of 3! (part 1)

warnings. no use of y/n! all spanish text is followed by immediate translation ( please note that i am fluent in castilian spanish, therefore some words/phrases may differ from that of other hispanic countries ), age gap , student!reader, dbf!javi, post-s3!javi, policeofficer!javi bc i said so, break up au, mutual pining, forbidden lovers kind of vibes, reader has a healthy relationship with her parents, violence, nondescript depictions of sa ( not javi ), pedro-ception aka there's a small cameo of another pedro boy, vomiting, mentions of pregnancy, reader is described to have hair and celebrates christmas ( but no mention of the reader's religious beliefs )! smut ( creampie, breeding kink through the roof, domesticity kink?? javi just wants to love and be loved and start a family, dacryphilia, indecent use of a credit card, spanking, dirty talk, prostitution kink?? i feel like i'm making these up at this point, + a hell of a lot more ) this fic is based on bsc by maisie peters except this has a happy ending bc im a sucker for mr. peña :( not all warnings listed here appear in this part, these are warnings for the fic as a whole !

word count. 14.3k

hyde’s input. hey... hey... how y'all doin'?🧍remember when i said part 2 would be posted a few weeks after part 1? yeah, that was a fucking lie. and, remember when i said it would be 2 parts in total? that was also a lie! the universe is praying on my downfall ( i had a fun mental health episode and fell into a black hole for a few months <3 ) unfortunately, i am very much still alive and kicking, so this is me trying to get the ball rolling again when it comes to posting fics. as the fic has surpassed 40k words, meaning it would likely crash the tumblr site for anyone trying to read it + tumblr will not allow me to post it as a whole due to it's paragaph-count limit, i've decided to post it in three parts. the fic will be posted in full on ao3 once all three parts are available on tumblr!

if you see any typos, no you didn't 🫣

“...wouldn’t have to be serious,” he’s speaking, finishing off a sentence you don’t quite catch the start of. “huh?” “this. us. it could be casual, y’know?”

Golden boy, you dropped the ball I am Annie fucking Hall

The year moves too fast.

It’s like you blink, and suddenly it’s Thanksgiving.

Leaves turn brown. Pumpkins are carved only to rot upon front porches. A gathering of friends, young adults getting their first taste at hosting a thanksgiving meal.

You’re put on dessert duty, which culminates in stressful tears and your mother’s hand rubbing soothing circles into your back, reassuring you that it’s okay, everyone burns their first pie.

No one at the party needs to know the pumpkin pie you brought was a product of your mother’s gentle care.

Then there is actual Thanksgiving, which you celebrate, as always, at your aunt's.

The highlight is, and forever has been, the road-trip out of state, your father making it his mission to deafen you and your mother with his horrific singing.

As they drop you back at your apartment, your father has no qualms leaning out the car window and calling after you.

“I expect to see you cheering me on at the Thanksgiving Touchdown event!”

Which brings you here, to said event, sweater sleeves tugged over cold fingers and a wandering pair of eyes who refuse to comply with your wants.

You want to focus on the ongoing football match- Fire Department vs Police.

Your eyes prefer to follow him, striding up the field, his hair soaked in sweat and his t-shirt long removed.

You’ve no valid reason to roll your eyes at the other women who seem to prefer spectating the sport of Javier Peña. You’re no better than them.

Yet, as one of them let’s out a joyous shriek as he takes a pass at the ball, your eyes roll.

"He’s a show-off, that boy.”

At least you have company. An older gentleman, who you caught struggling to pick his wallet up from the floor. He’d smiled as you returned it, and conversation had flowed easily from there.

As the whistle blew, commencing the final match of the local community services’ football league- or, Thanksgiving Touchdown, as your father so aptly named it-, he’d patted the empty seat next to him.

“Hmm?”

He points, and you follow the direction, realising he’s speaking about Javi.

“Him,” he says it with a teasing tone to his voice. It’s like he’s mocking the agent. “Think’s he’s God’s gift, takin’ his top off like that.”

The more you sit with the older gentleman, the more you enjoy his company.

On the field, your dad bellows something at Javi. He replies with a curt salute, and shoots off down the length of it.

He’s fast, agile, stealthy.

A force to be reckoned with, keeping pace with rookies half his age.

The vision of him, gun strapped to his leg and a tact vest on his chest, speeding down streets in the columbian heat conjures in your mind.

You wonder how it felt to know him then, if worry kept his companions awake.

It had certainly kept you awake in recent months, and that was with him safe, in Laredo, cooped up in some bachelor pad.

“Surprised he’s not thrown his top to the crowd of screaming ladies!” The gentleman continues his mocking, and it rouses laughter out of both of you.

A whistle is blown, your eyes return to the field and, though he’s quick to look away, you catch the tail end of Javier’s eyes on you.

Fifteen minutes pass, in which you do your best to not stare at him.

You’ve made worse attempts in the past.

Eventually, the man next to you coaxes you into getting him a lemonade from the food truck.

You oblige, of course, and deny his attempts to hand you cash, insist it’s on you.

He’s kept you smiling on a rather gloomy day.

You tell him you’ll be right back, smile, and realise you don’t know his name.

“Chucho,” he tells you, and waves you off.

You join the queue, keep your head down, ignore the gossiping women three spots ahead of you, claiming to have each shared an encounter with Javi.

You don’t need to know what he’s been up to.

You don’t want to know who he’s been up to it with.

It happens when you’re finally being served.

There’s no longer a queue, just you, smiling as sweetly as possible. The service industry is rough enough, nevermind on holidays.

You order successfully, both Chucho’s lemonade and a hot chocolate for yourself.

The guy working the truck- young enough, a bit too traditionally good-looking, with coiffed hair and a shaven face- he’s talkative.

Friendly.

Too friendly.

Till it crosses the border into flirty.

You’re not interested.

At all.

But it’s flattering, to feel wanted.

Even more so after a something that means nothing yet everything ends out of the blue and you’re left reeling over whether or not some part of you is to blame.

So you let him shoot you his dashing smile, and throw in unnecessary pet-names that just feel forced into every sentence he speaks to you, and write his number on the paper cup of your hot chocolate.

“Here you go, pumpkin,” he winks. The pet-name feels a little too on the nose for the season. Couldn’t he have called you sweetheart instead? “A sweet treat for that sweet smile.”

You wonder if he’s allowed to gift the free donut he slides your way.

Your stomach growls and begs for sugary release before you can fully bring yourself to care.

An awkward thanks. Hands reach up to grab the to-go cups, three fingers curling up the bagged donut. 

He helps you get a grip on the beverages, placing them in your hands.

His touch lingers, more than necessary, fingertips brushing over your knuckles as if trapped in slow-motion.

“So, a pretty girl like you got a boyfriend, or are you gonna let me take you out to-”

Gasps fill the air.

Half the crowd boos.

Your father screams one name, loud and clear, down the pitch.

“Peña, get your head out your fucking ass and pick up the ball!”

Turning on your heal, the scene unfolds.

The ball, abandoned on the ground.

The players, scrambling to grab it before one another.

Javier, frozen in place, face an unreadable maze of emotions, eyes staring right at you.

They follow you all the way back to your seat, even as the game picks up again.

Even as you congratulate your dad on another victory for the police department, now the four-time consecutive champions of the Thanksgiving Touchdown.

Even as you head off to your father’s car.

Even when you’re home, curled under a blanket and watching a televised copy of Annie Hall, you feel his eyes on you.

The look of betrayal on Javier Peña haunts you even once you fall asleep.

If you don’t love me, What was April?

You’ve always been organised.

Everything has it’s place, from the books that line your bedside table to the memories inside your mind.

You compartmentalise.

Tucked deep into the right side of your brain, there’s a box.

It’s contents, memories you’ve yet to process.

Moments you know that, if you wish to move on, you’ll have to relive.

Caution tape holds the lid shut.

Fragile stickers cover every corner.

And, scribbled in bold red marker, April ‘99.

A late night.

You, wide awake, laying on your back and mapping out stars in his ceiling.

Javier fell asleep hours ago and now snores softly against your neck, muscled arm curled around your waist as his legs entangle your own.

The agent is a fiend for cuddling, and so often wraps himself around you like a vine.

You find yourself nestling your hand in his hair, and take note of the sharp breath he intakes.

Go still.

Worry you’ve woken him.

Relax when you feel him snore and press himself even deeper against your naked skin.

He’s tired. Exhausted.

Work was getting to him as of late.

He hadn’t told you that, but he didn’t need to.

You know him. You can read him.

Can tell in the way he moved slower against you.

In the way he let you take the lead, resting back against the couch to watch how your hips wound down on him.

In the way he got even clingier than usual, dragging you into the shower with him just to have you near, holding you from behind as you washed up the plates he’d used to serve you dinner (a trade-off he’d reluctantly agreed to months ago: he cooks, you clean), laying his head on your lap as you curled up to watch some cheesy horror movie- one you’re bound to fall asleep during and he’s counting on it, glancing up till he spots you slumped over and eyes closed, granting him the perfect excuse to carry you to his bed and nestle himself in beside you.

Unlike other nights, you’re trapped awake.

Something feels off, makes you queasy.

There’s something nagging at your mind.

It’s like you’ve forgotten something, misplaced something, and can’t even figure out what it is.

You just know its absence is wrong.

Javi mumbles something, dreaming away, and you feel the subtle press of his lips against your skin.

Fingers curl tightly into the fabric of your (his) shirt.

He can’t get you close enough, it seems.

Playing against his wants, you pull back, slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

There’s a pinch between his brows, furrowed in worry.

It’s not fair, you think.

Sleep is usually where you see him at his calmest.

It’s a selfish act, born purely from your own desire, but you find yourself pressing a kiss against his forehead.

His grip loosens, though slightly.

It gives you enough time to feel a stir between your thighs, a calling coming from your bladder.

So you do your best to slip out his hold.

It’s a struggle that leaves you topless and feeling a pinch of cruelty, standing over the bed as you watch his hand grabbing at the vacant spot you once occupied, your scent and shirt the only traces you leave behind.

You don’t bother turning on a light, make your way to his bathroom with practiced ease.

Pad your way across the cold linoleum floor, sink down onto the porcelain seat- he’d stopped leaving it up when your overnight visits became more frequent. You hadn’t asked- didn’t need to ask-, he’d simply done it.

Closing the door over, yet not enough for the hinges to squeak and the handle to lock, you pray the wood muffles noise of the flushing toilet.

When it stops, you wait a few seconds, until you’re sure there’s no rustling coming from his bedroom.

Then, you open the tap.

The water is barely a trickle, yet you tell yourself its enough.

Lather your hands in soap, sit them under the constant drip of cold water till you feel the suds wash down the drain.

It’s hard to stop yourself from sneaking a glance at the mirror, just as it’s hard to recognise the version of yourself you see.

Your hair frames your face, though messy.

Your eyes are bloodshot, yet carry less bags.

Your cheeks are rounder, fuller.

You look different.

You feel it too.

Yhen come the thoughts of Javier, and how he sees you.

Has he noticed a change?

Is he the reason for it?

Does he feel different, too?

Your stomach flips.

He’s not said anything. Or done anything, to make you notice a change.

But, then, Maybe it’s been subtle, slow, dragged out long enough it’s not drastic enough for either of you to take note of.

You eye the spare toothbrush he keeps in his bathroom, and try to remember when it became yours.

You don’t remember.

One moment, his toothbrush sat alone. And, the next, you were standing side by side, laughing as you raced to see who could make a foamier mess of the toothpaste.

Corazón, you look like a rabid animal, he’d called you once, laughing through tears as he wiped away the white suds dripping off your chin. You’re lucky that you’re just so cute.

You can recall, even now, how quickly his mouth had found yours that night, with no ulterior motive other than to bask in the minty taste of one another.

The stir in your stomach becomes more intense.

Eyes refocusing, you find yourself in the mirror again.

Only, sweat lines your forehead and your face seems drained of colour.

You make it only two steps back before you’re hurtling across the bathroom floor.

Your knees crash down first, harsh and unforgiving against the tiles.

The first wretch burns, has you coughing over your own gag.

In the dark, it’s hard to see what exactly comes out of you, but you know where it came from.

Your stomach.

Another wave of nausea hits, this one harder, and you’re gripping at the sides of the bowl, spewing into the water below.

A splash meets your cheek, but you’re too out of it to care, wave after wave of nausea leaving you a coughing, gagging, crying mess.

You feel lightheaded, only managing a moment to catch your breath before another wave hits.

It feels like you’re suffocating.

It’s in your throat, in your mouth, in your nose, in your hair.

It feels like it’s never stopping and you’re doomed to spend the rest of your days submitting to the horrors of throwing-

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” warmth, against your naked back.

It’s a nice warmth, not like the one that has you covered in a cold sweat.

There’s a soothing motion over your skin.

Up, down, up, down.

You try to follow it, match your breathing to the tactile comfort.

“That’s it, baby,” cool air meets your neck, the hairs that stuck to your skin now pulled up and pushed back. “I’m right here, I got you.”

Eventually, all that’s left is the burning of bile at the back of your throat and the dull ache of eyes gone raw with tears.

You’re pulled into a solid mass, naked chest pressed to naked chest as you go slack upon the bathroom floor.

You’re exhausted, and covered in your own sweat, tears and vomit.

Javier doesn’t care, pulling you tighter against him and whispering sweet words you don’t quite pay attention to.

“Woke up and you weren’t there, corazón. Don’t do that again,” even in his attempts to chastise, he’s gentle, brushing the remaining strands of sweat-slicked hair off your face. You must be an awful sight, yet his expressions don’t give way. “You wake up, you wake me up too. ‘Specially if you’re gonna hurl, okay?”

You glance at him, swallow back a lump and deal with the realisation that dawned upon you ten minutes earlier, as you sat hunched over the toilet’s bowl.

“Javi,” he smiles at the way you call his name.

You feel sick all over again at the thought of that changing, everything changing, as you build the courage to speak.

He calls your own name back to you.

“I’m late.”

You await the sharp inhale.

And the unwinding of arms.

You imagine he’ll stand up, pace the floor.

Run his hands through his hair, rant over every thought he has.

Ways to get rid of it, the dangers of your dad finding out.

Then he’ll turn the blame to you.

That’s what men do, right?

He’ll ask why you weren’t safer, why you forgot to take that morning-after pill, why you played so fast-and-loose with your body.

None of it arrives.

He stands, yes, but only to pull you up with him, tired limbs leaning into his strong build as he drags you both under the heat of a warm shower.

You watch the remnants of your own vomit wash down the drain, and question how he can stand there, not disgusted with you.

He dries you off, delicate drags over your skin.

He’s rougher with himself, scarcely drying properly before he’s carrying you back to his bed, a replay of hours earlier as he lays you down, crawls in behind you and tucks you both under the soft comfort of his worn-out sheets.

Only, this time you’re wide awake.

He so easily nestles himself behind you, dragging you back against him and committing himself to the role of big-spoon.

His hands have always felt large, their touch always electrifying, but nothing compares to the feeling of him splaying one across your lower stomach, a subtle press into where part of him could be growing within you.

“Javi,” you whine, fighting off the sleep your overwhelmed body so badly needs. “I’m sorry.”

You say it because you feel obligated, like it’s your place to be apologetic.

After all, the blame is yours, surely.

“No seas boba (Don’t be silly),” there’s a fresh set of tears already sliding down your cheeks by the time he replies. “Don’t need to be sorry, baby.”

“But I-”

“But, nothing,” his tone feels final, one that tells you you’ll get nowhere arguing against him. “You’ve done nothing wrong, corazón.”

You fall asleep, eventually, soothed by his gentle breathing and the repeated motion of his thumb stroking over your belly.

Yhe next time you awake, there’s a crack of sunlight creeping through his blinds.

Javi’s still in bed, only he’s propped up on his elbow and staring down at you.

His smile stretches a little wider when he spots your open eyes.

Lips press against your own, soft and subtle.

A quiet greeting, a wordless goodmorning.

“I gotta go, corazón,” is met with a protest from you, rolling over to curl into his solid chest.

Expecting it, he wraps you up tighter in his arms, presses an array of chaste kisses to your head.

You don’t want him to leave this bed.

Or this apartment.

You don’t want him out, in the real world, where the hours you’ve spent cooped up together become more scandalous than the peaceful nature of them.

“I know, I know. Don’t wanna go either, baby,” you wonder if you spoke your thoughts aloud, or if Javi simply knows you so well.

Eventually, he peels himself away from you.

You watch him dress.

Tell him which tie to wear.

Help him tie it, the comforter pooled around your naked waist as you sit criss-cross-apple-sauce and Javi’s at the side of the bed, legs bent at the knee.

He thanks you with a kiss, then asks you to pass him his cologne.

It’s on the other side of the bed- his side of the bed- and you lean over to grab it.

You don’t bother handing him it, spraying it directly onto your own wrist and dabbing it into the skin of his tanned neck.

He lets you, a gentle smile on his face and eyes that pull you in for a hug, burrowing himself between your naked breasts.

He presses a kiss between them, hums in enjoyment.

“You’re gonna smell like me all day, cariño (darling),” he tells you.

“Good,” you reply.

Another hum, this time of approval, and a squeeze to your hip.

When he pulls back, he looks even more reluctant to leave.

Reality rears it’s ugly head, but he pushes it out your mind with the pressing of his hand against your stomach, the same spot he’d held onto all night.

Leans down, brushes his lips against it.

Your hands instinctually curl in his hair, and you like to think you leave it a little messy, enough to ward off any of the women he works along side, hopeful eyes hoping to get a taste of the handsome, unmarried cop.

“Stay,” he mumbles against your skin, as if you’re the one who’s about to leave. “Don’t go, ok? I’ll call around lunch.”

He keeps his word.

Calls you, a few minutes past two, interrupting whatever daytime TV you were pretending to watch.

Answering leaves you feeling lightheaded, like you're trapped in a daydream.

Listening to him croon down the line while your finger anxiously tangles in the phone’s wire as you stand in his apartment, it feels domestic, like you’re waiting for him to come back home, a place you share together.

The thought has you pressing a hand against your womb.

“How bout you, corazón?” He knows how to make you melt, picturing him smiling at his desk. “Have you ate yet?”

With a grimace, you admit you haven’t.

“You need to eat, baby,” you don’t like the fact he uses that pet-name, not right now. “There’s plenty in the fridge. Could make yourself a sandwich, or some toast. Might even have some of that pasta left over. You know, that one you said you liked? Oh, wait, maybe don’t eat that, don’t think uncooked salmon is good for pregn-”

You don’t want him to say the P word, so you cut him off.

“I’ll probably just have toast.”

He says ok, then you hear him take a bite of whatever his lunch is.

The call goes on a little longer.

It’s mostly him talking.

He tells you a quick story, something about one of the younger guys accidentally stapling his tie to an arrest warrant.

That rouses a laugh out of you, makes you forget all about the massive P word he almost said.

“I’ll be home soon, okay?”

That sounds nice coming from Javi.

Home.

Not his home, just home.

A place he feels his soul at rest.

A place he’d begged you to stay this morning, safe and tucked away.

“Was thinking we could drive out to the clinic, find out for sure if we’re pr-” he cuts himself off this time, like he knows you’re not ready to hear that word. “Then we’ll take things from there, okay? Whatever you decide you wanna do, corazón, you call the shots.”

He keeps his word, again.

Comes home barely three hours later.

He walks through the door and welcomes the way you coil yourself around him, humming in delight as he peppers a few kisses over your face.

“Still smell like me,” he says it with approval, takes a purposeful whiff at you as he pulls you tighter against him.

You still smell his cologne on him too, buried beneath a few layers of sweat and cigarette smoke.

Near clinging to one another, it’s a miracle you two make it out his apartment and down the elevator.

An arm around your waist, he guides you over to his car.

Pulls the door open for you, stops you from bumping your head on the way in.

He practically runs round the car’s hood, jumping into the driver’s seat and thrumming the engine to life with the turn of a key.

“You remember to eat?” He asks as he pulls out onto the street.

You nod, then audibly reply.

Tell him you did in fact eat toast, leave out the part where you spewed your guts again twenty minutes later.

The drive is quiet.

Not uncomfortable, just relaxed, with the radio playing gently and his window rolled down enough to let in some air.

At some point, his hand slides over the console and rests against your thigh.

You welcome it, covering it with your own.

As you watch out the window how he drives past the turning for the local hospital, he must catch your questioning gaze.

“They, uh,” he clears his throat, rings his hand over the steering wheel. A small stain of sweat marks it. “Know your dad pretty well in there. And me. Figure you’d rather he not find out about us like that.”

He’s right.

So you relax back into your seat, accept the fact you’re both driving out of town together.

At some point, the beginning notes of your favourite song play through the stereo.

You instantly perk up, sitting up straighter in your seat and tap your foot a little to the beat.

Javi says nothing, simply peels his hand off you to turn the volume dial up.

Seconds later, he turns his head and throws you a look just asking if he’s done good.

You smile, and thread your fingers between his own.

A soft squeeze before he pulls them up to his lips, eyes back on the road.

The clinic is bright.

And squeaky, each step you take making you a little more nervous than the last.

Javier, by all accounts, is solid as a rock, signing you both in, picking up a few pamphlets, buying you a can of soda, all while you curl up in some plastic chair and just focus on not spewing your guts out.

You only relax once he’s sat beside you, helping you get a sip of the sugary drink and wrapping a protective arm around you.

You don’t mean to but you fall victim to sleep, the past 24 hours getting the best of you.

You come-to likely not much later, but to the sound of a childish giggle.

Cracking one eye open, just slightly, you notice you’re slumped into Javier, head on his shoulder.

There’s a giggling little girl in front of you both, in purple overalls and with two pigtails to hold her curly hair.

One of her hands is on Javi’s knees, using him to keep herself standing.

“First time?” You snap your eyes shut as a stranger’s voice fills the quiet bustle of the clinic.

A confused sound leaves Javier.

“Yeah, could tell from the look on your lady’s face,” the man continues. “Same one my own wife had during our first visit.”

You want to pay attention to Javi’s response, but you’re a bit busy dealing with the fact he’s not correcting the man, telling him you’re not his lady nor his wife.

His thumb soothes over your hip, and you wonder at what rate you’ll melt away into a pile of nothing thanks to his soft touches.

“You hoping for a boy or a girl?”

You tell yourself to try harder, to actually pay attention.

You succeed, catch as Javi replies, “a girl.”

“Yeah?” the stranger seems genuinely invested, it almost makes you want to open your eyes, see him for yourself.

But you don’t want to ruin the moment.

“Wanted a boy, myself,” that same little girl giggles again and you can’t fight the temptation to peek once more, catch as she crawls into her faceless-father’s lap. “Doc told us it was gonna be a boy, too. Then this one came along and, wouldn’t ya know, not a boy.”

“Surprise!” the little girl squeals, and you feel Javi’s shoulder shake under your head.

God, you want to look at him, see if he’s looking at her with the same adoration that’s festering in your heart.

“Yeah, baby, you’re my little Sarah-Surprise,” the man coos and, despite his rough accent, it suits him. Like he was only ever meant to speak with gentle words and a soft heart, all for his precious daughter. “It’ll get easier, on your lady, just so ya know. Less scary, more exciting. ‘Bout to welcome our second one, and I’ve never seen my wife so happy.”

Javi’s still not correcting him.

It makes you nauseous for a whole new reason.

“Mr. Miller?” A voice calls out.

A nurse, you imagine.

A chair squeaks as pressure is taken off it, the stranger standing.

You peak your eye open in time to see him picking his daughter up, her little legs dangling off his hip.

He takes a few steps, till Javi interrupts him.

“What,” he clears his throat, and you wonder if it’s of emotion. “What are you hoping for this time?”

“A girl.”

Eventually, it’s your turn.

You’d pretended to wake up to Javier’s coaxing.

Shuffled into some room, reluctantly separating from Javi.

A smiley nurse handed you a cup, talked you through what you needed to do for your tests.

Took your blood pressure, complimented your earrings, and stepped out the room to give you privacy.

A short while and a reunion with Javi later, you sat in a doctor’s office, both a nervous wreck as you clasped each other’s hand.

“Mrs. peña,” again, Javier does not correct the doctor. And you realise it’s because he filled out the forms, he signed you in. He wrote you down as Peña. “You and your husband are not pregnant.”

What should have followed was a sigh of relief, from both of you.

But all you felt was led drop in your stomach and Javier’s grip tighten on your hand.

“You are, however, displaying symptoms of acute food poisoning, likely salmonella.”

The doctor continues on, detailing a prescription you’re being given.

But it falls on deaf ears, the world around you gone blank as you wrestle with conflicting emotions.

You’re not pregnant.

You should be elated. Jumping, and cheering, and dancing all over the place. Instead, you’re silent, letting yourself be guided back into the car by Javi.

This time, the drive is silent.

Not quiet.

Silent.

You watch him drive past the turning into your street.

He doesn’t explain that he’s taking you back to his place.

Getting you back in his bed, switching off the lights, he curls himself in behind you and splays his hand over your stomach.

Over your empty womb.

For some reason, you find yourself sobbing into your pillow, unaware of the tears from him that stain your neck as he tries to hush you.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” the irony of him repeating those very same words last night is not lost on you.

It’s hard to move on, when every month there’s a stabbing pain in your abdomen and a trickle of blood staining your underwear to remind you of April.

And so you keep it locked in it’s box, slapping another caution tape over it’s lid as you groan and roll out your own bed, trudging your way into your bathroom to check if the wetness between your thighs is your monthly visitor.

You played a game But I run the table

You’re avoiding your dad’s calls.

It’s not because he’s done anything to warrant your rejection, but, rather, it’s the forthcoming actions he’ll be guilty of.

See, you know why he’s calling.

Your mom let it slip, over brunch and a few too many glasses of wine.

He’s hosting another poker night.

He wants you there, as always.

Some baseless theory of you being his good luck charm.

Or, at least, that’s what you were until the last poker night he’d hosted, way back in March.

He slips away, phoned by your tipsy mother and obligated to drive three towns over to go pick her up because she misses him.

“Fill in for me, will ya, kiddo?”

It was less a suggestion, more of a pleading, his hands already scraping the seat back and awaiting you to plop yourself down.

He leaves you with his hand, his winnings so-far, and a kiss to the top of your head.

“Watch out for Peña,” he whispered, as if you hadn’t been keeping an eye on the agent all evening, clouded by his own cigarette smoke and sitting looser each sip of his whiskey, no ice. “His poker face is dangerous.”

He turns out to be no threat.

None of the officer’s are, really.

Rounds end and rounds start, and you father’s pile of winnings grow more and more.

It’s an ego boost, taking money from these cocky men who look at you as though surely you have no clue what cards you’re holding.

But, taking from Javi?

That’s something else, entirely.

Each time you win, he gets more agitated.

Flinging down cards, muttering curses, shoving his cash across the table.

All whilst glaring, at you, eyes black with ire.

And intoxication.

And something else.

Something you know all too well on Javier.

Lust.

Nearly an hour’s past since your father left, someone else leaves the table.

Says he needs the toilet, you point him in the direction of it.

You all call for a break, and then you graciously offer a refill on drinks.

It’s what your dad would’ve done, kept them all drinking and lowering their inhibitions, their focus disappearing alongside it.

“I’ll help!” One of the officers exclaims.

He’s on the younger side.

Practically a rookie, it’s only the second poker night he’s attended.

He’s sweet, with his large-framed glasses and his nervous smile.

You both make your way out of the basement- refurbished to be your dad’s man-cave- and head towards the kitchen.

You open the fridge, grab however many bottles of beer you need.

He heads to the liquor cabinet, pulls out a bottle bourbon.

You beat him at grabbing the whiskey, an unvoiced need to be the one who refills Javi’s glass.

Maybe, he’ll offer you a sip.

Conversation flows naturally between you, in spite of him being a near stranger.

He asks about college.

You ask about working with your dad.

You both agree on the fact he’s a pain in the ass.

He tells you about a new bar, downtown.

You tell him where to go to get the best club sandwich.

It’s light, it’s easy, it’s friendly.

You’re enjoying his company.

nNeither of you can tell who causes it, but one of you mispronounces a word and you both wind up in a pile of giggles, falling over yourselves and banging into counters.

His hands grip his sides.

You’re clutching your chest.

Through wheezes, he repeats the phrase that left you both in this state.

You laugh harder, louder, warn him to stop before you lose control of your bladder.

Something thuds in the hallway, your eyes shoot up to the kitchen entry and you swear you see Javi’s retreating figure.

Blink a few times, realise there’s no one there.

You both gather some decorum.

He grabs as many of the beer bottles he can manage, and looks at your empty hands in question.

You tell him to head back without you, that you just need to go to the toilet.

Parting ways, you find the both the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms occupied.

Sigh in frustration, only to remember your parents en suite.

It’s empty, because of course it is. No one would feel comfortable enough invading the privacy of your parents' bedroom.

You do your business, wash your hands, fix yourself in the mirror.

Decide your lipstick needs a little touch-up, your clothes need straightening out.

And, when you’re done and ready to head back down to the poker table, you hear a thud.

Pull open the bathroom door, expect to find your father struggling to put a tipsy, giggly, clumsy version of your mother into bed.

Instead, there is only a brooding look and disapproving grunt.

A firm grip, on your arm, dragging you right back into the bathroom.

The door slams shut, a little harsher than you’d like, the sound of it surely reaching the ears of those regrouping for the next dealing of the cards.

He doesn’t pounce, like he so usually does when he’s wearing that look of frustration.

He’s simmering in it, teetering on the edge of boiling anger as he smooths a hand over his chin, visibly clenching his jaw, swallowing back whatever it is he wants to say to you.

He takes one step forward, and you go one back.

Then two steps, which you also match.

Your hip smacks into the sink’s counter on your fifth step backwards and it’s enough to finally put his hands on you.

He tugs you right into his chest, one hand soothing over where you’d banged your hip.

It’s alarmingly gentle for his stoic features.

When he speaks, you nearly melt into a puddle, the heat of him invading your space, face inching close to your own, enough to have you questioning the sanctity of your parents en suite.

“What’s going on with you, huh?”

“Could ask you the same thing, officer,” you make the fatal mistake of giggling, but you’ll blame it on the fruity cider you’d helped yourself to.

He clearly finds no humour, not even as you fiddle with the top button of his shirt and shoot him your best look of innocence.

“Think you’re real fucking funny, don’t you?” His hand, warm and imposing, grips a hold of your face.

It’s almost painful, but you like it, squirming a little at the blunt stab of his nails and the way he smooshes your cheeks, forcing a pout onto your lips.

You try shake your head, his grip won’t let you.

“Sitting in a room full of men, making yourself the centre of attention,” he huffs a breath out of his nose, and you can’t help but compare him to an angry dragon.

He’s worked up, frustrated, angry.

And it’s hot. A turn-on.

“What’s the matter, Javi? Jealous you’re not the centre of all those men’s attention?” You’re poking the dragon, teasing him, and it’s an act that may leave you burned and scarred.

Or, as you’re hoping, it’ll win you the ride of a lifetime.

He doesn’t even grace you with a verbal response.

No, he scoffs, as though he’s in physical disbelief at the words you’re saying.

Spins you around, pins you to the sink’s counter, tugs your hair till you’re forced to stare at your reflection.

He’s right behind you, seething in anger, fire in his eyes.

His head dips between you neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against your pulse point.

“Not all of us are attention whores like you,” it’s fleeting, and he’ll deny it if you dare mention it, but he smiles.

Just a second, but you feel it, see it even though he tries so hard to turn his face into your neck.

It’s what lets you know he’s playing, teasing, egging you on to push him over the edge.

“I’ve been with real whores, corazón,” he confesses a sin you already know, eaves-dropping one too many times on your dad fishing stories of Colombia out of him. “Fucked them so often they started doing their nails in colours they knew I wanted to see wrapped around my cock.”

Involuntarily, your back arches, brushing your ass against him and providing him the perfect access to wind his hand up between your heaving breasts, all the way up till his fingers curl round the base of your throat.

In the mirror, the image is one of ownership, of Javi seizing your bodily autonomy. A whore and her gentleman caller.

It’s arousing to think about, Javi and his whores.

You wonder what positions he put them in.

How many rounds he lasted with them.

How often he made them cum.

“And not one of them took half the money you’ve taken from me tonight.”

Oh.

So that’s what this is, his pretty ego, bruised at the hands of you?

Poor Mr. Javier Peña, humiliated in front of all his peers round after round, hundred bill after hundred bill.

You almost taunt him for giving into the temptations of the fragile male ego, but you’re stopped in your tracks.

By him, hands squeezing at you a little tighter as he grinds the unmistakable outline of his hardened cock against you.

That single action changes the game, entirely.

Because this isn’t about you stealing his money and his ego.

No, this is something far filthier, that has your panties growing wetter beneath the skirt of your dress.

“I’m worth every dime though, aren’t I, officer?.”

The grip tightens.

He shoves you harder into the counter, so hard a tub of your mother’s moisturiser topples off.

The hard outline of him is still there, ever-present.

“‘S that what you like, huh, taking my money? Wanna be Javi’s personal little whore?”

Every ounce of feminism evaporates within you.

Who could deny such a tentative offer?

Certainly not you, reflection mimicking the way you eagerly nod, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a failed attempt to hold back a grin.

Javi notices- of course he notices- and takes his victory, hips rocking even deeper into you.

There’s too many layers between you, a feat on which you both agree, yet neither of you do anything about.

You just savour the friction, instead, pushing and pulling one another to the axis of pleasure.

Your panties, soaked.

His jeans, tight.

“What’s it gonna cost me to get you bent over and stuffed full of my cum, corazón?” One hand leaves your body. The mirror snitches on him, exposing how he’s reaching into his back pocket. “This?”

He smacks something down, into the bowl of the sink.

It’s his wallet, and you watch the worn leather of it shine with the residue of water on the linoleum.

The hand at your throat pulses a squeeze, his knee nudges you from behind.

“C’mon, don’t be shy.”

His mouth, right by your ear, lips tickling you with the subtlest of brushes against it.

His hand guides your own, down into the sink, flipping the wallet open and putting it’s belongings on display.

Bills, some placed neatly, others stuffed in forcefully, edges spilling out the pockets. There’s less in there than when he arrived, courtesy of you.

There’s a few miscellaneous cards. A library card, an ID slip you’re sure he uses for something in the sheriff's station, a loyalty card to some record store.

The picture of his mother sits centre stage, radiant smile and loving eyes grabbing the attention of any who dare open it.

He has his mother’s eyes, you notice.

And then you notice something else, peeking out from behind his mother’s picture.

You dive into temptation, dart your nosy fingers over to tug at the object, till you realise it’s another picture.

A picture of Javi, and you.

Taken on a polaroid you found under a box of his belongings, you remember the day clear as ever.

The two of you had messed around, captured your sins on film with the promise of destroying it after. It would be too risky a thing, to allow image evidence of the intimate ways in which you knew each other’s bodies.

Javi’s fingers on your skin, your nipple in his mouth, his cock’s outline bulging within your lower abdomen.

There was no point risking your father ever finding it.

But this picture, this one you do not remember.

Fully dressed, eyes fixed on his television, your head lays in his laps while his fingers card through your hair.

It’s captured from above, as if Javi’s own eyes had made a permanent record of his view.

The sweetness of this living on, of Javi taking something sacred for himself to keep hidden in his wallet distracts you for a moment.

He does good to bring you back into the room.

“Take how much you think you’re worth, corazón,” whispered into your ear, as he rips a few of the notes out his wallet.

They sit in the sink, growing wet.

And you are too, frozen on the spot.

You glance down, count over the different bills.

Five dollars.

Twenty dollars.

Hundred dollars.

With each bill you count, your internal price shooting up within your head, you try picture his reaction.

In the mirror, he’s watching.

Not the sink bowl, no.

You, your face, looking at your expressions in a way that reminds you it’s his job to read people.

You decide to be bold, dig into his wallet and, even though your insides twist in anxious turmoil, hold up your hand to present him with your answer.

Resting neatly, between your fore and middle finger, a shiny credit card.

The gleam in Javi’s eyes just about match it, blackened and blown out with lust.

The card is plucked out your hand.

The hand on your neck leaves, in search of your waist.

The fabric of your dress bunches, wrinkling and creasing as his fabric-straining grip inches it’s hem higher and higher.

You feel sexy like this, face heated and breathing heavy.

It’s an effect he has on you, has had on you, forcing you to look at yourself in new lights, in new angles, admiring every out-of-line trace of you for what you are.

Desirable.

And attractive.

And pretty.

And smart.

And every other word under the sun that Javi whispers into your skin with innocence as his body commits sins within you.

At the bottom of the mirror, you watch as the white cotton of your panties comes into view.

Wet, as you both expected, the thin fabric now turned almost sheer, exposing the delectable view of your cunt hugged cutely by the cotton’s tight seams.

Javi hisses, muttering something to himself.

There’s a strain to his voice, one that would have you worried he’s in pain if it weren’t for the way you’re watching as his face contorts with lust.

His eyes are dark and you study them like he studies his card, contemplating something.

A few seconds pass. 

Tension is puffed out his chest with one exhale, through the nose.

You feel the air tickle your skin.

He nods curtly, to himself, and flickers his gaze back to meet your own in the mirror.

It’s unwavering, even as he brings the black plastic down and smacks it against your mound.

You squeal, he hushes, and you both know he doesn’t mean it at all.

He likes when you gift him noise, a private aria only he has tickets to.

Just as easily as the first time, he snaps the card against you again, a jolt of pleasure shooting straight through your clit.

Just as loudly as the first time, you squeal, a jolt back into his warm, steady, hard embrace.

“What’re you running from, hmm?” His face turns, burrowing itself in the tresses of your hair.

A shallow sniff, and you wonder if he notices the smell of his shampoo on you.

There’s a pressing of lips, against your scalp, and it’s far too gentle of a juxtapose to the imagery of his fingers pulling your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the bathroom’s cold air and the two pairs of hungry eyes in the mirror.

“You say that this is what you’re worth, and then you don’t want to take it?”

The third spank of the card against your bundle of nerves is harder, louder, echos in the confined space. A moan, minuscule and muffled, slips past tightly shut lips, a look of fear flashing through wide eyes.

Javi’s quick with his reassurance, gentle with his comfort, a hand stroking over your collarbone.

“Don’t worry, no one’s gonna hear you. You just be as loud as you need, hermosa, they’re too busy encouraging that boy-cop to ask you to dinner.”

There’s a tint of jealousy to the way he says boy, and you’re reminded of the image of him in the kitchen doorway.

Smack!

The card strikes down, once more, this time eliciting an open-mouthed gasp. 

He doesn’t let up, repeating the action twice more.

It hurts, in a way that makes your core throb and your toes curl, squirming aimlessly in a grasp he knows you don’t truly want to escape.

But he mocks you, with a hushing noise in your ear and gentle it’s okay, corazón, Javi’s got yous against your neck. His thumb swipes through your folds, coating it in your wetness and dragging itself up to your clit, soaking it in soothing rubs.

His gentle nature lasts mere seconds, his wrist flicking back only to smack the credit card down again. This time, it’s a pattern of three, repeatedly crashing down on your sensitive nerves one after the other.

In the mirror, you watch him observe as he twiddles the card between deft fingers, contemplation on his mind.

The room’s quiet, apart from your shortened breaths and his deep inhales.

You hear a cheer.

From the basement.

It must have been a loud cheer, for you to hear them all the way up here.

And, suddenly, the stakes feel higher than when you were sat at the poker table, counting Javi’s coins with every passing round.

If you can hear them, they could hear you.

This doesn’t seem to cross Javier’s mind, who merely twists your head away from the bathroom door and back to the mirror, to where his hungry eyes await.

All contemplation is gone, he’s decided in what he’s going to do, and so you watch as he takes the card and swipes it through your cunt.

It’s not a pleasurable act, in itself.

In fact, it’s rather uncomfortable, the solid plastic hard on your delicate skin.

It’s the arousal of him doing it that gets you weak in the knees, to have him perform such a mundane act- the swiping of his credit card- in such a crass, dirty, wrong way.

Like he’s paying for you, committing a physical transaction in exchange for your body.

It doesn’t matter that he could have you for free, has had you for free.

He wants to pay, wants to reward you in a way that aligns with the capitalistic world.

“Javi…” You whimper, softly, head lulling back against his shoulder as he swipes the card again.

Your eyes, slowly slipping shut, shoot right back open as you feel the rounded corner of the card prod at your opening, as if trying to notch itself within you.

“Think she could take it, corazón?” Javi bites at your ear, teeth clamping down and pulling at it’s lobe. The card sinks in, not even an inch. You nudge back into, your cry circling the room around you both. “I know, baby, I know. It’d be a wide stretch, but ain’t that all pretty whores like you are good for, hmm?”

It’s automatic, the way you bend to his every whim, head nodding without direct orders from your brain, every part of you, conscious or not, ready and willing to prove you could fit his card inside of you.

For him, you can do it.

“Fitting big things in your little pussies?”

Surprisingly, the hand between your thighs retracts and you watch as he brings the card up to your mouth, glistening with your arousal.

“Open,” the directions are unnecessary, your mouth already dropping open for him in an act of muscle memory.

He hums approvingly, yet his eyes are still fury filled as he slots the card between your lips, lathering your tongue in your own taste. 

“You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you, corazón?”

The statement rings true, both ways: as much as you’ll take anything, he’ll give anything.

You don’t tell him that, though, finding it much easier to rest your palms on the countertop, backing your sopping core into him, enticing him with the wiggle of your hips and whines from your lips to take you already.

“Shh, shh, don’t you worry that pretty head. Javi’s gonna feed this greedy little cunt, ok?”

The unbuckling of a belt.

The unzipping of teeth.

The shucking down of-

Something smashes, in the basement, and it’s enough to have you flinching.

Javi’s touch soothes you, a hand running over the curve of your shoulder as he presses yet another kiss into your neck.

“S’okay, probably just a beer bottle.”

He doesn’t move another inch, not till he sees you nod, melting back into him.

You hear, more than you see, the way he tugs his trousers down, just enough to free his hardened cock from its jean-clad confine. The risky business of a quickie in your parents’ en suite calls for clothing moved aside, and not removed.

Much to your annoyance, his all-encompassing warmth drifts away as he moves back, hands clamping down on your hips. 

He tilts them to the angle he wants, the angle he knows gets him brushing all your sweet-spots.

He tugs the skirt of your dress up, and then readjusts your soiled underwear.

You hear him draw a deep breath and watch his eyes in the mirror, glued to that spot between your legs, entranced.

The drag of his cock over your folds is familiar, the way he smacks the head of it against your clit is welcomed.

He spears you no gentle coaxing, no stretching around his fingers first, coming undone just for him to fill you right back up, this time with his cock.

No, this is a vengeful touch, the kind that’s meant to display his irritation, his fury, for reasons you’ve yet to confirm yet you’re more than willing to accept.

A man like him, so unfairly selfless, taking something in this world for himself, how he wants to and how he likes to.

You’ll be his vice, so long as he grants you his virtues.

Javi fills you with a single thrust, grunting low into your ear as you feel the way the air is physically knocked out both for your lungs.

He’s still, head buried in the crook of your neck as he works on steadying his breathing, giving you time to adjust to the delicious stretch.

You whine out some version of his name, feel yourself pulse around him.

A hand, reaching up to cup your cheek.

A kiss, gentle and longing against your mouth.

He’s making you wait for it, you think, torturing you with an impending paradise.

He’s savouring the feel of you, he thinks, taking advantage of the few moments alone he wins with you.

"Javi,” he barely lets you part from him to speak, chasing a trail of kisses down your jaw. “This isn’t the time to develop patience.”

The snide remark earns you a bite, his teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin of your earlobe. You squeal, try remind yourself to be quiet, only to squeal louder when his hands tickle at your waist.

“I’m a very patient man, corazón.”

You scoff.

“Just not when it comes to you.”

His hips roll back, slowly, but it’s better than nothing, better than when he wasn’t moving at all.

Still, he makes you squirm a little longer, moan his name a little louder.

Only then does his fake resolve snap and he’s fucking into you at a brain melting pace in the blink of an eye.

Javier does his best to keep quiet, at first, biting down on his lip and your neck just to contain all those melodies he usually makes.

You can’t say the same for yourself as, despite your efforts, broken moan after broken moan tumbles out your mouth and into the sink, filling and filling and filling it in sync with how Javi your cunt.

You wonder how long till it all spills over the edge.

“Joder (Fuck),” he groans as you unconsciously squeeze him tighter, pulling him deeper into your walls. serves him right, for the teasing and the torturing. “Tienes el coño más lindo en todo el mundo. (You have the prettiest cunt in the whole world.)”

You feel lightheaded.

Warm, sweaty, covered in the fingerprints of a lover you shouldn’t be with.

The bathroom fills with an array of sounds. The slapping of skin against skin, the broken cries of an agent’s name, the mindless rambling of a man drunk on pleasure.

“So good to me, baby. Always so fucking good to me.”

“Gonna stay here forever, fuck. That sound good to you, corazón, hmm? Full of my cock always?”

“Look at yourself… Pura belleza (Pure beauty).”

He consumes you, mind, body and soul.

There’s no worrying about the happenings around the poker table, no listening out for your father’s car pulling in the driveway, no worrying about your tousled hair or sweating skin.

There’s just Javi.

Beautiful, gorgeous, deserving Javi.

“Please, please, Javi-“ The words all melt together, pleads becoming his name, his name becoming pleads.

You’re not sure what you’re begging for.

It’s okay though, Javi always knows what you need.

“I know, amor (love), I know,” he murmurs into your skin, butterfly kisses so gentle you wonder how they come from the same man that’s pistoning his hips into you like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. “Let go, c’mon. Show me how much you love this cock, how much you love-”

He’s cut off by his own groan, you cunt fluttering around him as you inch closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.

Hands hurry off your waist, slipping between your thighs. 

It brings a welcomed cushioning, shielding you from repeatedly bumping against the marble of the countertop.

Your legs part further, eagerly, an easy pathway for his yearning fingers to seek out the wonders of the female body as they brush over your clit.

The gentle tactile that he strokes over your bundle of nerves, partnered with the repeated brushing of his cock against that spot that makes you weak in the knees, drool out your mouth, it’s becoming too much.

Eyes glancing in the mirror, you wonder if yours is the same image of the whores who’d warmed his Colombian nights: sweat soaked skin, hooded eyes, messed up hair, wrinkled clothing.

He tilts your hips, a deeper angle to fuck into you that has you perching up onto the tips of your toes, fighting with the chance of losing balance.

He’d catch you, if you fell.

Wrap you up in an embrace that’s more familiar than your own.

“I’m gonna- Fuck! Corazón, need you to cum. Now, please. Please. Need to feel you-”

He’s babbling, losing composure and revealing the side of him you pray he never showed those other women: the side that needs, the side that longs, the side that begs to see you cum before he allows himself to, before he’s able to.

“Javi,” it’s a struggle to speak, but you endure, fighting off your orgasm and holding back tears. There’s something you need from him too. “Cum with me. Wanna be full of you, all of you-”

“¿Sí? (Yeah?)” He pleads back, thrusts already getting a little sloppier, hands a little shakier in the way they touch you. Much like his poker face, you know how to read the face he wears moments before he falls apart. “¿Eso es lo que quiere mi corazón? (Is that what my sweetheart wants?) Want me to cum in you, hm?”

“Yes, oh god yes! So bad, Javi, I want it so bad!”

“Ay, bebesita, no llores. (Aw, baby girl, don't cry.)” He coos, a condescending lilt to his words that has you falling into a bigger mess. “Shh, don’t worry, baby. Gonna fill you right up, so my cum’s dripping down your thighs when that poor kid asks you for your number. Thinks he’s got a shot with you cause he made you laugh, poor boy wouldn’t know how to deal with all the noises I get out of you.”

Javi divulges into a spine-tingling rant of burning hot jealousy, the kind that leaves your cheeks burning and your heart scorching, lit under a flame of your desire for more of him. To have him, equal parts physical and emotional.

You try warn him of the bubble that’s about to burst, the feeling in your loins building and building till it’s seconds way from toppling over. 

“That’s it, baby, squeeze my cock. Lemme feel it,” He urges, heart pounding out his chest against your back, hands tightening their grip on your hips. “Need to feel you cum, ‘s all I want.”

You both crash and burn, together.

You fall first, a chaos of unfinished words, crying out for Javi.

He follows close behind, body pressed against your own like he’s willing you to fuse together, to become to entangled in one another that all possibilities of separation become void.

“Take it, cora-” He’s in your ears, in your head, in your heart. Inside of you, consuming you, as eagerly as he’s willing to be consumed by you, fingerprints on hips and teeth-marks in necks. “Take it, take it, take it.”

Arms envelop you from behind, crossing over your chest to pin you back against him.

He’s nearly stagnant, nothing but the twitch of his cock and the shallow thrusts he fucks you deeper with, filling you with another, another, another pump of his cum.

“So good,” Javi’s voice persists, teeth gritting as he bites back the need to be loud, to be heard, to lay a claim on you so blatant no one could deny hearing it. Your relationship with your father is the only thing that holds him back. “Good to me, baby. Always… Good… Díos. (God.)”

Craning your neck to the side, you manage to pull him in for a kiss.

It’s something he accepts easily, lips parting and melting into a dance against your own.

One of his hands falls over your jaw, twisting your face even closer to him.

The kiss dies slowly, with each of you refusing to truly part, pecks being splattered messily against the other’s mouth.

“Was I,” Javi interrupts you with another kiss, his free hand smoothing up and down your side, his hips still slowly rocking into yours, a delicious sting of overstimulation biting at your core. “Am I worth it?”

He pulls back, tired gaze warm as it takes in your messed features.

With the smile that stretches over his lips, however, one would think you were the prettiest creature in all the world.

He calls your name, calmly, slowly, like he’s trying to memorise the shape of it on his tongue. “You’re worth everything I could give, and more.”

There’s something behind the ways he says it that makes you believe him.

With little will to do so, you peel apart from each other, his hands moving quick to adjust your underwear as his cum starts to leak out onto your folds.

He exits the bathroom first, a final kiss placed on your cheek before your left alone, forced to confront the wrecked version of you that will never see your parent’s en suite in the same light.

Your dad arrives back just in time to see you slipping back down to sit at the poker table, no seat left for him to take but the one between his sweet daughter and his loyal best friend.

If only he knew he was placing you both where you most wanted to be when he suggested Javi give you a ride home, waving you both off through the car window with no idea Javi's cum sat dripping out your cunt, staining the car seat.

Your phone buzzes to life in your hand, slipping you out of your memories.

Your father’s contact name reads clearly on the screen.

Hitting decline one more time, you roll over and try ignore the gathering slick between your thighs.

Damn Javi and all the memories he haunts you with.

Mr, I don’t want a label You made me a little miss unstable (And it)

Days grow colder.

Nights grow longer.

You change your bedsheets, stuff a comforter back inside.

Pick out a tree, synthetic, and lump the box up the countless stairs to your apartment.

Try not to think of how he would’ve insisted on helping, refused to let you carry it.

Even if it culminated in him doubled over in pain, clutching his lower back.

Lights, baubles, action.

The tree’s smaller than you expect, barely reaching your hip, but it’s green, tree-shaped and festive. It’s enough.

Your decorations are minimal, a few inconsequential things you picked out your parents’ stash. There’s a Santa hat, frayed with time. A few cracked baubles, with string so thin you suspect they’ll snap off. A gingerbread man ornament, a glass snow-flake. A crooked star, missing one of its points, tops the tree.

A homemade snowman, one you’d gifted your parents after a busy day in nursery. Neither of them had the heart to tell you you’d made its nose a rather phallic shape.

And then there's the red phone-box, nestled somewhere in the middle, an etching of LONDON brandishing it as a reminder of your trip.

You’d picked it up in a tiny bookstore, right next door to The Distillery Club.

The winter season has never felt so lonesome, tucked away in your grown-up apartment. 

There’s no fireplace to warm your hands, no hot cocoa boiling on the stove. No cheesy hallmark movies to laugh at with your mother, no racing past your father to grab the last slice of dessert.

It’s just you, alone, with only your wandering mind as company.

Sometimes, more often than not, it wanders to him. To if he’s alone.

To if he’s filling his heart as easily as he fills his bed.

To if he’s finally bought a second seat for his dingy balcony.

“Is this some tactic of yours?”

He hums, brows furrowing, lips pouting, smoke dragging into his lungs.

The cigarette sits perched between two fingers of the hand resting on your knee, his other curled around your waist.

“Some what?”

“Tactic,” you repeat. Watch him blow a puff a smoke, taste his ash at the back of your throat. “Only having one chair, so pretty girls have no choice but to sit in your lap.”

He lets his gaze wander away from the streets below and up to you, sitting pretty in his lap. Like a cat, draped over his thighs.

Nothing but his own rumpled, inside-out shirt to cover your skin.

Bare legs, messed hair, smudged lipstick.

Fingerprint bruises littering your hips, bitemarks etched into your collarbone.

“I gave you a choice,” he speaks with a reservation he didn’t have before, when he’d offered you a ride home from the bar. There’s an etching of something that’s diluting his expressions, sinking him deeper and deeper into his own pensive mind. “You were the one who insisted on sitting on me.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier.”

Nails pinch at your thigh, causing a squeal out of you.

A few birds fly off a nearby wire, a head or two turn in the street below.

They don’t see you, or Javi, or the lack of clothing that sits between you.

“Neither were you. In fact, you were a little busy fucking my fac-”

“Stop!” Your sudden modesty feels unearned, yet that does nothing to stop you from placing your hand over his mouth.

He licks at it, you grimace, he licks again.

Then takes another breath of nicotine, as you wipe the remnants of his spit onto his naked thigh.

When he offers the cigarette your way, you hesitate.

Picture your father, disappointed to see you smoke.

The whiff of Javi’s post-sex smell- muted cologne, matted sweat, burnt ash- steals your senses, reminds you you’ve already done enough to disappoint your father, a cigarette can’t do much damage.

So you let him hold it up to your mouth and inhale it’s poison.

You and Javi were never meant to happen.

Sure, the line had already been crossed weeks ago.

But that was supposed to stay in Vermont, tucked between snowy slopes and wooden cabins. Existing in a timeline separate from your reality, where you are your father’s precious daughter and Javi is his trustworthy colleague and friend, that is where it should have stayed.

And it had, for two weeks. Sixteen days, specifically. 

You’d returned to classes, to sharing lunch breaks with your father in his office, to slowly moving more of your things out the family home and into your new apartment.

And Javi, from what you heard, had returned to keeping civilians safe, to sharing a drink or two with your father at the end of the work week, to flirting with every secretary within a mile radius.

Neither of your crossed paths and, when you nearly did, the other made the effort to turn a corner, shut a door, hide behind a wall.

Until tonight.

Until you ditched your mediocre date, some lame excuse of having a last-minute paper due.

Until you’d gone to console yourself over your failing love life, unknowingly sliding into a bar stool right next to the most desired cop in town.

Until he’d turned to you, tilted his head, and asked “d’you wanna get out of here?”

He’d offered to take you home.

The drive was quiet, tense, until his hand drifted over the gearstick and you dragged it down onto your thigh.

He squeezed.

You inched it further up, till the tips of his fingers brushed at the edge of your dress.

He took the invitation, took a turning towards his own place.

Brought you into his apartment, drowned you in his fountain of kisses, begged you to sit upon his face. He’d made you see stars beneath a roofed sky, eyes rolling so far back they threatened to get stuck there.

With barely a moments recovery from a third blinding orgasm, he dragged you down the expanse of his body, sat you down on his cock and refused to help your overstimulated, puddle-brained self ride him, grinning cunningly with his back pressed against the mattress as you struggled through shaky legs.

Eventually, he tired and launched himself, arms tangling behind your back, feet planted flat behind you, hips fucking up into your battered cunt until you both came to a haltering crescendo.

He’d layed you down to rest, cleaned you of any mess, and then wandered out to his balcony, inviting you to join him when the feeling returned to your legs.

Which brings you here, fifteen minutes later.

“...wouldn’t have to be serious,” he’s speaking, finishing off a sentence you don’t quite catch the start of.

“Huh?”

“This. Us. It could be casual, y’know?” Another puff of smoke slips right through his lips. “If that’s what you’re worrying about… your dad, and all that other stuff. I don’t need a label, not if it means I get to have… We could keep it casual, if that’s what you want.”

It takes a few moments for you to fully register his words, and then a few more to formulate a response.

“Is that what you want?”

He shrugs.

Pulls in another breath of his cigarette.

Stubs it out on the arm of the chair.

And says nothing.

You assume it’s a yes.

Because what else could Javier Peña, notorious womaniser, want with you if not a casual, no-strings-attached permit to sleep with you, as many times as he sees fit, without the risk of losing his job or, worse, his best friend?

Silence falls upon you both.

You twist in his lap.

He tightens his hold.

Within a half’s hour, he’s got your hands white knuckling as they grip the metal bannister of his balcony, his own hands busy pulling your hips back to meet each of his desperate thrusts, not even the cool air of the night enough to soothe the flaming desire that burns between you.

Your stomach twists, your mouth dries, your eyes water at the thought of him out on that balcony now.

Somebody else, some new body sat in your spot, upon his lap as they exchange smoke rings and warm mouths.

Broke me big time It’s funny and I’m laughing baby You think i’m alright

The Laredo sheriff’s department is known best for three things: its lack of parking, its swoon-worthy ex-DEA agent, and its office holiday parties.

Each year, it’s the same.

The station, decked out in decorations.

A Christmas wreath, mistletoe hanging from every doorway, egg-nog and mulled wine.

It’s not just Christmas.

It’s menorahs, and ficus trees, and a statues of different gods.

Each piece of culture, tradition, holiday that makes up the people that inhabit the station, day in and day out, behind desks and in cop cars, filing paperwork and fetching coffees, represented in some way, celebrated.

Each member of staff is encouraged to bring their friends, their family.

Their spouse, their mothers.

Anyone, and everyone, is welcome.

Then there’s the gift exchange, a Secret Santa system, optional for each member of staff.

It’s the part you look forward to most.

Crowding your dad the minute he gets home on the first of December, poking and prodding till he lets it spill who he’s got.

Fishing out a pen, some paper.

Drawing up a list, made of details and anecdotes your father remembers of his target.

Dragging your shop-avoidant father down to the mall, for a day of gift hunting and sweet-tooth indulging.

Getting to watch your father’s coworker open their gift, eyes lighting up as you once again knock the ball out the park and gift them something perfectly tailored to them, winning your dad the spot of top gift-giver year after year.

This year, there was none of that.

No list of pros and cons for each gift option.

No trying to crack just what exactly your dad should gift his person.

No waiting with baited breath to watch them open it, heart racing with that little fear of them not liking it, of you failing.

No, the moment that name fell from your father’s mouth, you knew what he needed to get.

Hinted at it, slightly.

Claimed you’d smelt it on a friend, thought it would be a good idea.

Sipping on some wine and picking at the buffet, you watch him pick up his gift.

Hold it up to his ear, shake it.

Look down at the box, confused, then tear into the wrapping paper.

The whole room stops.

Not really, but it feels like it does, as somewhere across the room Javier Peña holds up a bottle of that damn cologne.

And, when his eyes instinctively find yours, it feels like everything else fades away.

Fades to grey.

It’s just him, and you. The only two within the room, holding a secret too heavy on the tongue to ever speak it aloud.

He knows.

Of course he knows.

Knows you’d watched him spray it on his skin, day in, and day out.

Knows you’d worn it on your own, sunk it deep into your pores after intertwining your souls upon wrinkled sheets.

Knows you’d watch its contents decrease over time, time you’d spent with him.

That bottle of cologne reminiscent of a timer on you both, that morning before the hospital trip becoming the last few sprays he got out of it.

Colour returns to the world that surrounds you as your dad steps into view.

He’s hugging Javi, pathetically tipsy and ignorant to the lipstick stain on his cheek, no doubt ingrained to his skin with how hell-bent he is on having your mother kiss him beneath each mistletoe.

They’re exchanging words you don’t hear, slapping one another on the back.

You turn on your heel, insides twisting as nausea overcomes you at the scene.

The next time you see Javi is hours later.

You’re trying to leave, tempted to take the good old Irish exit and just slip out a back door.

But your parents- ne, your father- are so busy show-ponying you around the room, that you fail to take a single step that goes unnoticed.

“There she is!” Your father calls out, somewhere behind you, as you slip your hand into the arm of your coat. This act sparks outrage, a frown birthing onto his face. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving too.”

You say you’re tired.

He boos, loudly, like he’s not the chief of police and a whole grown adult.

Grabs at you, lovingly, trying to pry the coat out of your hands.

The effort is minimum, and you know he’s only messing around.

You can leave, if you want to, even if he’d rather you stay.

“It’s not even midnight and you two buzzkills are leaving!” He wails, all the while he’s reaching around and helping you slip your other arm into the coat.

That’s when Javi’s face comes into view, over the arch of your dad’s shoulder, sporting a smile and a pair of keys dangling off one finger.

You try your best to counter his smile with your own, though your throat feels dry and your cheeks feel tight.

“I can’t believe I’m being betrayed like this by two of my favourite people!” The smile slips before you can catch it, eyes widening at your father’s words.

Words you’d spent months agonising over the thought of hearing. Picturing the circumstances in which he’d find out. Imagining the horrendous fallout, a red slash over Javier’s reputation. Swearing you’d quit it, quit him, and then winding up tangled in his sheets again, head pressed to his chest, eyes closed in the soundest of sleeps.

Javi plays it cool.

Nudges your dad’s shoulder, shakes his head and tells him to “quit the dramatics, viejo (old man).”

“I gotta head out to my pop’s first thing in the morning, he’s wanting me to help him rewire some of the fences.” Comes out as his excuse, one your dad can’t really argue against.

He knows better than anyone that Javi drops everything for his dad.

Well, better than anyone but you.

Your excuse, however, falls a little short, a consequence of the last minute conjuring of the lie.

“I’ve, uh, got an early class. Don’t wanna flunk out in my last year, right?”

Your dad stares at you.

Your mum stares at you.

Javi stares at you.

And that’s how you know you’re screwed.

“Class? I thought you were on winter break.”

Javi takes the momentary distraction to shrug his coat on, over those broad shoulders.

Shoulders that twist with the rest of him, as he makes space for you in the doorway, nodding you over. Here, he’s saying without really speaking, escape with me.

So you do, tiptoeing past your parents as though, the slower and quieter you move, the less they’ll notice your approach to the exit.

“Oh! Yeah, I- Sorry, I meant that I-”

“The library, it’s still open for the graduate students,” Javi swoops in effortlessly, dragging the spotlight off you.

He takes hold of your jacket, too, slipping the zip into place and dragging it up the length of your torso, over your chest, till it rests snuggly at your sternum.

A little too snug, making each new inhale deeper, harder, practically heaving the air into your lungs.

At least that’s the reason you give yourself.

You don’t get to dwell on it too long, fortunately, for your mother lets out a gasp.

She points, eyes a little widened by excitement, at the both of you and nudges at your father.

“Look!” She tells him, and you watch in confusion as he displays her same reaction, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Then comes the laughter, straight out the depths of your dad’s belly and right to your weak heart, a melody that reminds you so much of easy Sundays and curling up next to him on the sofa, watching kids’ shows that seemed to entertain him more than you.

“Oh that’s just,” he takes a laugh break, doubling over slightly, his own finger joined in pointing at you two, beneath the doorway. “Too perfect!”

Before you can inquire on either of your parents bizarre reactions, Javi’s eyes are staring into your own and pointing upwards.

Wrapped with a red bow and barely hanging onto the door frame with a single strip of tape, a mistletoe stares down at you, two white berries like mini eyes.

When you glance at the agent once more, it’s hard to read what he’s thinking.

His shoulders are tense, his lips are pursed, his brows are furrowed. But, his eyes.

His eyes burn you with an unspoken intensity, a look he should never possess in front of your parents.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” You mom, camera in hand, urges you both, a wide grin cast upon her face.

You dad is in no better state, rushing forward to squeeze you both closer, one hand clasped over the back of Javi’s head.

When the once-agent exhales a nerve-striken breath, the warmth of it, of him, hits your neck.

“Dad, c’mon, stop-” you’ve never imagined yourself stuck like this, your mother and father both urging you to kiss a man you spent months tossing and turning in bedsheets with behind their back.

The creatively deviant part of your brain tells you this is how it could be, maybe, in some other life.

Some other life, where Javi’s not a cop, you’re new in town, and you both bump into each other at the grocery store.

Both of you reaching out for the same apple, or box of cereal, or bottle of milk.

Your hands, brushing.

Your eyes, meeting.

He’d charm you, easily as he always has.

Get your number and then, the next day, a date.

One date leading to two, three, four, more dates.

Till you bring him home to meet your parents at last, squeezing his hand tighter when he tries to pry it away as the door opens to your father’s stern face.

It would take a while, you reckon, for your dad to see past the difference in years.

Your mother wouldn’t care, wouldn’t spare a second thought to it, not when she notices how much he makes you laugh and how he can’t keep his eyes off of you in any room you occupy.

This could be your first Christmas together, your parents begging for one sweet photo of you under the mistletoe, before you both head off to spend the rest of the holiday season with Javi’s father.

But it isn’t, and you’re not.

“C’mon, it’s bad luck not to!” Back in the present, in reality, your dad’s found his way over to your mother’s side. “Peña, just kiss the girl on the cheek for Christ sake, I ain’t gonna bite your head off for it this one time!”

His lips brush your cheek like an autumn breeze.

Gentle, a hint of warmth, a tickle from the wisps of his well-groomed moustache.

“Get a bit closer, you’re not fully in frame!”

The flash goes off on your mother’s camera, and the two give a little cheer, and Javi wraps an arm around your back, squeezing you a little closer.

When all is said and done, your mother’s forcing you both to stare at the camera screen, a perfect picture of the most doomed couple to ever grace this Earth.

Such dramatics in your thoughts reminds you of the copious glasses of prosecco you’d downed throughout the night, and of your intentions to get yourself home before you done something stupid.

Like stand under the mistletoe with your former casual lover, the very same man your father calls for golf matches and March Madness debriefs.

Javi offers you a ride home, an idea your father approves of.

“I’m heading that way anyway, gotta pick up a few things before I drive out to the ranch.”

A part of you thinks he’s lying, wanting any excuse for a moment alone with you, but then that’s the kind of delusions you shouldn’t be feeding into.

You and Javi don’t spend time alone anymore.

You and Javi do not exist together anymore.

Maybe you never did.

“It’s okay, I already called a cab.”

You part ways at the door, your father watching you from inside.

Javi calls your name, before you can take more than a few steps.

For a second, he just looks at you.

Then his arms are pulling you in, and he’s got you right against his steady chest, and he’s resting his head atop your own, arms squeezing tightly at your sides.

“Get home safe.”

He walks away before you can tell him to do the same, the door slamming to his car the last thing you hear as you pull out your phone and call a cab.

It takes twenty minutes for it to appear, in which the rain starts and your clothes get soaked, but all that and the fifteen dollar fare are a cheaper price to pay than the torture of letting Javier Peña drive you home.

Crawl up the stairs, unlock the apartment door, drop your clothes onto the floor.

You find sanctuary under the shower, soap suds and boiling water, a dynamic duo that scrub off any remnants of his skin against yours.

Even as you step out, fully cleaned and towel wrapped around yourself, you catch a hint of his cologne, the very same one you’d made sure your dad picked out for him.

And as you pick your coat off the ground, a distant voice that sounds much like your mother scolding you for leaving such a mess, you notice it.

First, just a little extra weight.

Then, scratchy paper as your hand dives into the left pocket.

The wrapping is haphazard, with an uneven bow tied atop it, but that’s not what matters.

You tear away at it, let the paper fall to the floor at your feet.

Then you’re met with a small box, which you tear open too. 

And find it sitting neatly among balls of yarn, the prettiest, most delicate looking glass bauble.

It’s ribbon a deep green, and it’s centre an image of mountain slopes, backed by a green forest and a valley full of wooden lodges.

It shakes in your grasp, and you spy the snowglobe-esque white foam that dances around within it.

In it’s centre, in bold, italic and green, Vermont.

One more glance in the box.

There’s a note, tucked at the bottom.

You fish it out in one breath, hold it up to read what it says.

Corazón, For your tree. I hope there’s still space.

#javier peña smut #pedro pascal smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña oneshot

[gurugirl]

Just For Tonight | Ch. 2

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Y/n's pretty sure she'll never see or hear from Harry again. They had a fun night but he made it clear that it was only just the once. Except Harry can't seem to follow his own rules.

Warning: 18+ only, smut

Word Count: 10,501

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

Having a night with Harry Styles was like having one of those hot-girl secrets that only the most privileged were in on. But what that also meant was that she couldn’t really go talking all about it to everyone either.

She would have loved to have posted on Instagram all about it. Bragged about having seen his cock and then having it inside of her. She would have loved to have seen Dyna’s face when she told her that Harry Styles had eaten her out and spanked her. Dyna was one of those acquaintances in her friend group who was smug and pretty but rude. Thought her shit didn’t stink.

And well, she never would tell anyway. Not only would she never brag about what she’d done with someone during sex, but she wouldn’t want to betray anyone that way.

But it was kind of a bummer that she couldn’t talk about it all. Ady drilled her for information and Y/n had already decided that she’d only spill the details to her best friend, whom she could actually trust. Ady was a work friend at best. She trusted Ady, but not with that kind of secret.

All Ady knew was that Y/n had spent the night with Harry Styles. And when she arrived at the office on Monday morning, half of her co-workers had already heard about it.

“That’s why I didn’t give you details, Ady. You shouldn’t be saying anything to anyone.” Y/n replied as she bit into her sandwich. Ady was trying to extract more information from her.

“But I would never tell anyone those details, Y/n! Come on. Just give me something. Any tattoos we don’t know about? Is his dick as big as everyone thinks it is?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and stood up from her chair, tossing the crust of her sandwich into the garbage, and completely ignoring Ady on her way back to her desk.

After a few days, the gossip had died down and Ady had pretty much given up. Y/n was glad everyone had stopped talking about it and asking her uncomfortable questions.

And while on the outside it had appeared Y/n had moved on completely, on the inside she couldn’t stop replaying the night with Harry over and over again.

Especially when she was alone in her bedroom at night.

Y/n had a housemate. She lived in a two-bedroom bungalow with a microscopic backyard, street parking, and the tiniest closet known to man. And still, she could barely afford to make rent each month. But Brad was nice. And he allowed her to pay a little late sometimes. She didn’t often pay late. Maybe a handful of times over the year.

But it also helped that Brad had a bit of a crush on Y/n. She didn’t want to be that person but it came in handy in this case.

“I’m so sorry. I get paid next Friday and I’ll pay you first thing. Just didn’t keep track of my spending again this month.” It was slightly embarrassing. She wasn’t careless about how she spent her money but that month she had the Harry Styles concert, bought a hotel room (which she didn’t even sleep in), and spent a little extra on her cute new bodysuit. She had saved up her money but overspent just a tiny bit. Okay so maybe she was a little careless with her money at times. And she was getting too old to keep living paycheck to paycheck. It was time to start putting money away.

And she couldn’t do that with her current job and all the bills she had on top of that.

Y/n was going to have to find a second job. Anything so she could get her footing and pay off some loans, and then maybe she could breathe a little.

“No worries, Y/n. I’m good for it until then.” Brad smiled. She could tell he was getting tired of it, though. And for that alone, the embarrassment of having to ask if he could cover her part for a handful of days and to see his expression of pity and probably a little bit of annoyance, yeah. It was time to find a second job.

Her cousin was the floor manager at a posh, expensive restaurant downtown that Y/n would have never dreamed of stepping foot into. Not normally anyway. But there was a job opening for a server spot that her cousin had casually mentioned a week prior. She didn’t know if the position had been filled or not and if they would give her that prime weekend shift but there was only one way to find out.

“Y/n! Hi! How are you?” Laren answered chipper and sweet.

“Hi. Uh… good! How are you?”

Small talk commenced before Y/n finally got into the nitty gritty of why she was calling.

“Oh? The server position? It hasn’t been filled actually. We’ve been interviewing, though. You should come in and apply. I can put in a good word.”

The position was for two weekday nights and rotating a Sunday and Saturday every other week with a draw for the occasional Friday night (the coveted night to serve apparently). It wasn’t ideal but she figured she’d at least apply and see what happened.

Y/n had been a server in college so she was familiar with the work. It was hard, stressful at times, but tips could be good with the right tables.

And part of her didn’t want to waitress again. She was already working 40 hours at her office job. This would leave her with very little free time. But she needed to do something because every time she thought about how she was late on rent again it made her cringe and flush hot with embarrassment.

The interview process was fairly painless. And the fact that her cousin already worked there seemed to be in her favor because the very next afternoon she was getting a call to come back in to begin training. She’d gotten the position.

And it was just as hard as she imagined it would be. Shadowing one of the servers felt strange. She started on a Tuesday night since it would be a relatively slow night. Rushing from her office job to get home, changing into her uniform, and then racing through heavy traffic to get to the restaurant gave her a good idea of how it would be for her on the nights she worked during the weekdays.

Her past experience was a blessing. She only needed to shadow for two weeks before they started letting her have her own tables. Everyone on staff was easy to get along with on some level.

She did learn, though, that Vyra was upset that they were letting her take a weekend night shift so early on. Vyra was also a server who’d been at The Dulcería for a couple of years and wasn’t allowed weekend shifts until she’d been serving for a while.

“Tell them I’ll take your ten top tonight. I don’t think you’re quite ready for the level of service you’ll need to provide.” Vyra placed her tray down and faced Y/n as she spoke.

Y/n had just arrived at the restaurant for her first weekend evening shift by herself. She didn’t even know she had a ten top as she’d only just walked into the door.

“I… okay, well, let me at least put my stuff down. I’ll talk to Mannie and find out what he wants before I ask for that.” She was already annoyed. Not ready for the level of service… Just for that comment alone, Y/n was going to make sure she kept the table and was the best damn waitress that ten top could ever have that night.

“I’m telling you that it’s going to be better for you to just give me the table. We’ll switch off. They’re gonna be here all night.”

Y/n put her purse in the locker and turned to look at Vyra, “How do you know they’re gonna be here all night?”

“Because the reservation was very specific about how long they would be here. Probably someone famous honestly. Just tell Mannie you’re giving me your section.”

Sighing as she clicked the lock into place and tied her apron around her waist she shook her head, “We’ll see.”

Y/n checked the schedule for the night and realized, the only table that she was assigned was the ten top Vyra had mentioned. Which was interesting. Looking at the name on the reservation it didn’t ring any bells for her as to who could be in the party that would require her to stay with them all night but she knew she could take care of the table on her own. Even if they were famous and picky and maybe demanding. There were only ten of them. And it was her only table.

After the first two guests had arrived and were brought to the table by the hostess, Mannie signaled to her to greet them at the table and get some drinks started.

“You didn’t tell Mannie to let me take over. You didn’t even ask. I think it’s in your best int–“

“I’ve got it, Vrya. I appreciate your concern but I’m fine. Really,” she spoke as she neared the private area of the dining room where her table was.

“No. I don’t think you understand, Y/n. You’re new at this–“

Y/n stopped abruptly and Vrya nearly ran into her, “Stop. I’ve waited tables before. And Mannie wanted me to have this one. Just… go back to your tables and give it a rest.”

The pair at the table were dressed extremely casually, which was unusual for the restaurant. Most people entering the doors of The Dulcería wore designer and dressed appropriately in smart casual.

“Hi. I’m Y/n. I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Would you like me to get you started with anything? Wine for the table or appetizers for when everyone else starts to arrive?”

The young woman at the table ordered three bottles of wine to start and a handful of appetizers. Easy enough.

When Y/n returned to the private area with a cart full of wine and water she stopped in her tracks. More of the party had arrived but now she recognized two of them. She blinked her eyes and swallowed as she felt her heart rate pick up before pushing the cart forward again and closer to the table. She could be seeing things, she told herself.

As she neared the party she honed in on the man with his back to her with chocolate brown curls and broad shoulders. Was this…? It couldn’t be.

And yet she was sure it was. Based on the fact that she was looking right at Jeff Azoff and his adorable wife Glenne… She gulped as she parked the cart at the edge of the room and plucked up one of the bottles of red wine to uncork.

Carrying the bottle and a glass of wine toward the young woman who ordered it, she was suddenly aware that all eyes were on her as she turned the label side out toward her. But before she could pour a taste sample the young woman pointed at the man with his brown curls at the other end of the table, “It’s his to taste.”

She let out a quick breath to ground herself and closed her eyes for only a moment before turning to see those bright green eyes already on her. The big grin on his face told her he recognized her immediately. Of course he did.

She smiled, taking a step back, and slowly walked toward Harry to give him the first taste of the wine.

Pouring the liquid into the glass slowly as she stood to his left Harry finally spoke, “I didn’t know you worked here. How have you been?”

Okay. A standard greeting. Even that alone got her heart aflutter. She wasn’t sure if he’d act like he didn’t know her or if he’d greet her kindly. She would assume the latter but of course, one never knows in these circumstances.

“I’ve been well. This is actually a new job for me. And uh, how about you? How have you been?”

Harry sipped the wine and nodded, “S’good. Thank you. I’ll have a glass of this one,” he cleared his throat while she poured a serving for him, “And yeah… I’m great. Thank you. We should catch up soon,” he leaned in closer and finished his thought, “Kind of wish I’d gotten your number.” He spoke the last sentence a little softer so only she could hear.

For the duration of the dinner it was difficult to have any kind of real conversation with Harry while she was taking orders and running back and forth but each time she returned Harry made sure to get in a comment or ask her a question. She noticed the looks from a few of the people sitting around the table.

Heading back into the kitchen to grab their meals she noticed Vrya walking toward her side of the restaurant where the private dining room was. By then, all the servers heard about who was in the private dining room. Most didn’t make a fuss about it but a couple of them were curious.

With the tray loaded she delicately walked back toward her guests and spotted Vrya next to Harry and chatting. Technically Vyra wasn’t allowed to speak to guests at Y/n’s table unless she requested help. It wasn’t a big deal normally, but since Harry was a celebrity, a famous pop star, it would be frowned upon. This wasn’t some Deux Moi tell-all Sunday sightings gossip rag. This was a posh, upscale restaurant where wealthy people and celebrities came to enjoy a quiet meal without being disturbed or spotted. Mannie was not going to be happy about Vrya taking it upon herself to check on Y/n’s table. She couldn’t wait to talk to Laren about Vyra as well. She wished her cousin was there that night so she could vent but she’d be calling her about this later.

Placing the tray onto the stand Y/n frowned at Vrya as they made eye contact, “I was just seeing if everything was going well. Since you’re new and all,” Vrya laughed and looked down at Harry, “Plus having such a big star here we need to make sure service is perfect.”

Harry smiled at Y/n, “Y/n here been more than perfect. You’ve nothing to worry about. I’m sure we all agree,” he gestured toward everyone at the table, “we are in the most capable hands here. Couldn’t be happier.”

The fake smile on the intruder was telling as Y/n began to bring dishes around the table, “Thanks for checking in on me Vrya. It’s unnecessary, though. I’ll call on help if I need it.”

Standing up straight and nodding at Harry she walked behind Y/n and whispered, “His water glass is low,” and then exited the room.

Y/n had no idea what she’d done that would have Vyra acting like such a child. She was polite to Vrya but she really wanted to yank her hair out and shove her out the window for sticking her nose into business that wasn’t hers. But she figured she was better off ignoring the whole thing.

“So, Y/n…” one of the guys at the table spoke up, “We hear that you and Harry met at a recent concert. How did you enjoy the show?”

She felt her neck get hot as she fumbled with the notepad in her apron pocket, “Oh… it was awesome. Yeah. I gave him a pair of sunglasses that he wore that night on stage. That’s pretty much how we met. Brought a co-worker with me. A blast. It was the first concert I’ve been to.” She smiled and then quickly corrected, “First Harry Styles concert that is!”

The look on Harry’s face was cheeky. He was holding in an obvious grin on his face as he gazed at her. She was a nervous thing in this setting. Harry remembered quite well how sure of herself and confident she’d been that night. How she was practically dominating him, leading everything that happened. Mostly.

And even though he made it clear that what had happened was just for that night, he realized he’d been fantasizing about her a lot since then. In fact, every time he touched himself his thoughts made their way to Y/n just before he could come. He hadn’t even slept with anyone since. Not that he’d been holding out for her or anything. He had been thinking about her a lot, though. Missing her even. He was quite delighted that she was his server and that he happened to meet her once again. It felt like fate maybe.

And Harry was a big believer in fate and the universe shifting and creating space and paths for humanity. He was a believer in karma and destiny and intertwined lives. And so because of that Harry was sure this meant something.

When the restaurant was shut down and the servers were calling it a night, Y/n was clearing the table and refilling the last of the wine for everyone. She was told not to rush them, and she had no intention of doing so. She was enjoying the table. Everyone was polite and easy to please. There were no difficult requests or off-the-wall dietary restrictions.

Though Harry was particular with his order (the man was clearly eating strictly healthy which made sense given the state of his body, which she was quite acquainted with) it was easy to accommodate. Plus his presence had set her in a good mood. He was gentle and sweet and everyone in his party was the same.

And the way Harry kept looking at her, as if he knew something she didn’t somehow… a teasing grin, slightly stifled… she was all nerves and butterflies and big smiles. It had been an amazing night at work. It hardly felt like work at all.

Exiting the bathroom after a much-needed bladder release she walked up the hallway but was stopped short when she heard his voice, “What are you doing after you get off?”

His deep rasp had her tummy boiling as she turned and saw him leaning against the frame where the hallway met the corner of the entry to the kitchen. Stepping back toward him she looked up at his sharp green eyes and shook her head, “Going home.”

That smirk, the one that hid what he was really thinking deep down slowly widened until he was grinning full-on, “Where’s home?”

Looking behind her and then over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby she squinted her eyes at him, “Why do you want to know?”

Harry sighed and softened his stance, putting his arms down to his sides, “Because. I was gonna ask a follow-up question and figured it might be important to know if my place is closer or yours.”

She let out a soft laugh in surprise and now her ears were growing warm, “At this hour… A fifteen-minute drive away.”

Harry nodded and reached a hand out to her apron, pulling gently at the bow, “Got it. Would you be interested in having me over tonight?”

Cocking her head and keeping her eyes squinted in scrutiny she responded, “And why would you want to come over to my place?”

She felt like this was obvious. She could have answered this question on her own. But she wanted to hear it from him. Wanted to be sure she was on the same page as him.

He leaned in and lowered his voice, keeping a finger looped into her apron’s bow, “Seeing you tonight has reminded me of how much fun we had. I know I said it was only a one-time thing but maybe we could make it a two-time thing,” he smiled broadly and shrugged.

Harry was a confident guy. He wasn’t typically turned down. In fact, on the rare occasion he was turned down it usually had nothing to do with him. So he was pretty sure Y/n would be happy to have him. But even as sure of himself as he felt, he was feeling his nerves peak at the idea she would say no.

“A two-time thing. Okay… well I do have a roommate. His bedroom is connected to the wall next to mine. Privacy is an issue. If you’re okay with that then I’d say… sure.”

Harry let out a laugh through his nose, though it was more out of relief than due to anything being funny, “What makes you think I want to be in your bedroom? Maybe I just wanted to stop by for a movie. Or we could bake cookies or something.”

Harry laughed at the obvious nonsense he’d just spewed. They both knew what this was.

“Oh? So you want to like watch a movie and bake some shit? I’m down with that. I don’t think I have the ingredients to make cookies or anything but I’m sure we could stop somewhere and grab flour–“

Harry pinched at her hip and stepped in close, “I was kidding…”

Now it was Y/n’s turn to laugh before she straightened her back as much as possible and put on a serious face. With his proximity, she was bent slightly back to look up at him, “You were? So you mean you don’t want to bake cookies with me?”

Harry’s grin and his hands at her hips were soft, “I don’t want to bake cookies with you. I want to get you in bed again.”

Well okay. There it was. She knew that’s what it was but to hear him say it out loud had her head spinning and her heart pounding.

She nodded, “Right. So… how do we do it? You want me to drive or…?”

Harry shook his head with a laugh, “Give me your number.”

.           .           .

Harry and his crew left before Y/n did. She’d given him her number and he texted her back right away. It was surreal. Just like how she felt the first time she met him. She almost didn’t believe it was happening.

Vyra was cold for the rest of the night but after the huge tip left, Y/n could understand why. Harry’s table had been her only table of the night. Her shift was only four hours but they stayed the entire time. She figured Vyra knew that some celebrities tipped well and wanted in on that.

In fact, the tip had been so big she had to sit down when she realized the number written in the tip line with a small smiley face next to it. She’d have a talk to Harry about this. It was far more than necessary. Even after splitting the tips up between the kitchen and the bussers in the system, it left her with enough money to cover rent and all her bills for a month. Yeah. Excessive.

She texted Harry the minute she parked her car in front of her house. It was well after midnight. She wasn’t sure he’d actually come, still in disbelief about it all. The fact that he was there and that she was assigned to that table felt like pure luck. Fate if you believed in that kind of thing. Which she didn’t. Not normally anyway.

His return text came back quickly.

On my way.

Quickly showering off her sweat and the smell of cooked food then shaving her legs she tried to calm herself down. The night with Harry in the hotel room she’d been perfectly groomed and ready for anything that might happen. Not that she expected it that night, but one never knows. Going to a Harry Styles concert and having the chance to catch his eye wasn’t something she’d half-ass. She never in a million years would have thought he’d have pointed her out while he was singing and then proceed to bring her back to his suite. But he did.

And this evening, she wasn’t fully groomed but smooth legs and clean bits were the least she could offer in such a short amount of time. She laughed to herself as she thought about it all. Wondered if he’d even care if she was a little sweaty. She wasn’t going to chance it.

When he texted that he was out front she took a few deep breaths and looked in the mirror one last time just to be sure before dashing to the front door as quietly as possible (so as not to wake Brad) to let the famous pop star into her small, rented bungalow.

She gestured to Harry with a finger to keep quiet, “My roommate is sleeping. Do you need water? The bathroom?”

Harry’s grin revealed that he needed only one thing. And neither had anything to do with what she’d just offered.

“I take it no baking cookies, then?”

They grinned at each other as she led him to her room.

Her bedroom was cute. She had cream curtains that draped down to the floor, a wooden dresser with a framed photo of Y/n with her family atop, a coaster from a local bar, a box that appeared to be a jewelry case, and a carton of tissues. Her bed was made and the comforter looked fluffy with a pretty pink and yellow flower pattern all over it. Framed prints of plants and flowers on her walls and a standing lamp in one corner. A closed door, which was definitely hiding a closet behind. A nightstand on either side of her bed.

“Cute,” Harry spoke as he looked everything over and then brought his gaze back to the woman he’d been fantasizing about since their last night together.

“Yeah. Uh… this is it.” She shrugged and felt her tummy warm up under his scrutiny. He was staring at her and she knew he was there for one thing only.

Sitting on her bed she sighed and attempted to lighten the mood, “So… that tip was way too big, Harry. I can’t possibly accept such a thing. I don’t think–“

Harry shushed her as he sat down and took her hand in his, “Nonsense. You are an amazing server and deserve every penny of that. Probably more even.”

His light eyes were scalding. Every inch of skin he took in she felt sizzle.

“Thank you. Just feels weird. Especially now that you’re here…” she laughed quietly.

“Now that I’m here? What do you mean?” His fingers wound into hers, his thumb moving along the edge of her hand. Such an innocent gesture, giving her goosebumps. Though she was well aware his intentions weren’t innocent.

“I mean… Like you just gave me a bunch of money and now you’re in my bedroom,” she smiled and tried to maintain eye contact but it was hard with how gorgeous he was.

“This is separate from that, Y/n. You should know that. I just missed you which is why I wanted to come here. You’re just really good,” he looked at the bed and then back to her, “You know… in this setting.” He grinned wide.

“In this setting?” She laughed at his words and shook her head.

The grin dropped from Harry’s face as he brought his free hand up to cup her jaw, “Can I kiss you? I missed these lips so much. I’ve been thinking of them since that first time with you.”

Nodding her head she felt him pull at her thigh just as his lips found hers.

Things had shifted since the last time she saw him. Somehow it felt a little different. Maybe more intimate in some way. It was probably because they were in her bedroom rather than a hotel suite, and this was the second time they’d be seeing each other in this context. But there was something else there too. She was feeling… less sure of herself. She still had the confidence she needed to kiss him back and unbutton his shirt, but unlike last time when she was feeling very forward, this time something kept her slightly reserved.

And Harry noted her softer demeanor. He didn’t mind it, though. In fact, this time he was feeling like he wanted to show her how good he could be. Give her a taste of him taking the lead and maybe have her begging him a bit. He was in a bit of a mood that night. He was glad that he saw her in the restaurant because it’d been a month since he’d gotten laid (and it just so happened the last person he’d had sex with was Y/n) and she was the only girl he could think of that would scratch the itch he had.

Y/n was pressed back into the mattress as Harry pulled her sweatpants off, “Do you want to feel good, Y/n?”

She nodded and puffed a laugh out, “Well… yeah…” She thought that was an obvious answer and the way she responded told Harry she was mocking him.

Harry paused the movements of his hands as he stuck his fingers into her panty’s waistband. He cocked his brow up at her in warning before he popped her thigh with a smack. She laughed and sat up with her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Behave. I was just asking a question. Wanna try that answer again?”

She swallowed and blinked her eyes, “Yes, Harry. I want to feel good.” She smirked at him. Her answer was still lined with cheek but he’d give her a pass. He wanted to see her.

He smiled and nodded before proceeding to pull her panties down her legs, “Good. Because that’s what we’re here for. To feel good. Take your shirt off for me.”

Y/n was relieved that Harry seemed to pick up where she was lacking. She didn’t know what had her feeling so permissive but they seemed to be on the same page. She peeled her shirt off over her head and Harry spread her legs apart, fitting himself in between her thighs.

He was still mostly dressed. His shirt was unbuttoned and his jeans were undone. Both Y/n’s doing, but that was as far as it had gone with getting him out of his clothes before he stopped her and began to tell her he was going to get her naked.

“Can you take your bra off too? Need it all off.” He waved his hand toward her chest as he directed his sight to the space between her thighs. It felt so vulnerable to have him clothed while she was naked. But she did as he said and removed her bra for him.

The dim lamp in her room kept everything visible. Harry could tell she was already a bit wet. The gleam peeking out from her labia had his tummy on fire. He couldn’t wait to feel her again. Slip his cock right in and drive into her. He imagined he’d need to keep her mouth covered while he was fucking her to keep her quiet because he recalled how loud she was the first time they’d been together.

But before he could indulge himself in feeling the juicy stretch of her around him, he was determined to have her come in his mouth and on his fingers first. She didn’t orgasm when he ate her out the last time and that was something that stuck with him. He had nowhere to be the following morning and given that it was a Sunday he figured she was free as well so they could play for a lot longer this time around. Not that that stopped them from having a good romp and then a quick fuck in the morning the last time, but he planned to take his sweet time with her now.

He smoothed his hands up her thighs and licked his lips, “I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy until you come and then if you’re still well behaved maybe I’ll let you taste my cock for a bit before I fuck you. How’s that sound?”

She nodded and moaned softly, “Mmm… That sounds so good.”

Harry smiled and pressed his thumb over her clit and gently began to rub back and forth, “It does doesn’t it? I missed this with you, angel. Can’t believe I thought it was just going to be the one time. Seems as though fate had a different idea.”

She scrunched her brows and an ooh feel from her mouth at the feel of his thumb on her clit and his soft words.

Harry leaned over her body, the fabric of his shirt dragging over her tummy as he dipped down to wrap his mouth around her pebbled nipple. She craned her neck back into the soft pillow and sighed at the feel of him on her. His lips on her breast and his thumb on her wet nub.

By the time he’d licked and sucked the expanse of both of her breasts, she was completely on edge. On fire. His teasing thumb gently rolling her clit back and forth was making her lose it.

“Fuck… please, Harry,” she whispered as she stuffed her fingers into his hair. He lifted off her breast and looked up at her, “What is it, angel? Please what?”

“I just… I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and looked at where his hand was at her pussy. All wet and shiny for him, “What did I say?” He looked back into her eyes, “Don’t you remember what I said I was gonna do first?”

She let out a shaky breath, “I do. I just thought you could skip it if you wanted. Really want to feel you again.”

He kept his thumb working her clit as he groaned, “I want to feel you too. But I have to have a go at you first. Want to put my mouth right here,” he slid his thumb upward and pressed down, “and make you come.”

Her tongue poked out from her lips as she kept her mouth parted. Heavy lids and wiggly hips.

Harry loved the way she looked. Like she was ready for whatever was to come. She was desperate for him and he already had her saying please. He loved a little begging when he could get it.

“Little tongue coming out to say hello,” he reached forward and pressed his finger onto her pink muscle and she immediately wrapped her lips around his digit. His own mouth dropped open at her desperation. Her tongue pressed into the pad of his finger and she sucked him in.

“Shit, angel. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. Okay? Don’t worry.”

He felt her lift upward into his hand and he got the hint. She needed something.

Pulling his finger out of her mouth and taking his hand from her pussy he pulled his shirt off over his shoulders and knelt down, pressing his fingers through her crease, coating his digits in her slippery essence.

He looked up at her face as he plunged two fingers into her hole and then lowered his mouth over her cunt and she bellowed loudly before putting her arm over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She’d have to keep herself in check with the noises but her concern about Brad being right next to her room was slowly dissolving.

Harry chuckled into her labia as his tongue slipped up and down, lapping at her arousal.

It was soft but every time he puckered his lips and ran his tongue up and down her clit she felt a spark lighting up her insides.

Her moans were muffled under her arm. But she was so wet that everything in her room sounded exactly like what was happening. Harry’s lips and tongue and fingers moved through her wet labia and creamy arousal and she wished she could record the sounds to listen to later.

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest and he curled his fingers and dragged the tips along her soft ridges on the inside. He flattened his tongue over her clit and slurped before quickly sweeping his tongue back and forth. Her little squeak was a good sign. He smiled.

When he felt her fingers in his hair, pulling gently she began to roll her hips into his face. He lifted up to take a look at her as much as he could with her fingers on his head. She was gorgeous. Her wet pussy was smeared all over his face, her tits swayed softly as she arched and writhed, her hair was splayed out across her pillow, soft thighs parted.

Then he noticed the way she was fucking herself down onto his fingers. Her hips began to move faster and her pathetic mewls were falling muffled from her mouth.

Harry lowered his lips back to her pussy and she sighed in relief. But he only applied a sloppy kiss to her mound before looking back up at her. He moved his free hand up her body and pushed her arm off her face, tilting his head up to speak, “Keep your eyes on me, angel. You can be a good girl stay quiet. I know you can,” he pumped his fingers into her as he spoke against her pussy in hot breaths.

She adjusted her body slightly, using the pillow to help keep her neck angled so she could watch him. To keep her eyes on his. She gasped and tried to stifle her moans as she watched him dig in with his whole face.

His pretty green eyes were mostly pupil, dark with only the edges of crystal green surrounding. She put her other hand into his hair and cradled the back of his head. The hand he wasn’t using to finger her had her thigh held down, his fingers pinching into her soft skin.

But then he used his tongue to move quickly back and forth over her clit while thrusting his fingers deep, curling into the right spot. And there was something about his eyes watching her that made her flush hot. His steady gaze seeped into her brain and wrapped itself around all those bits that supplied dopamine and caused a craving that would be hard to shake.

His fingers were stuffed so deep inside of her that she knew he must be getting his knuckles drenched. Probably his whole hand given how wet everything sounded. The bend of his fingers inside of her and the pressure on her clit, when he sucked her, pulled a loud groan from her lungs. But it didn’t stop him from continuing the sloppy lapping and slurping.

Pulling his hair tighter between her fingers she bucked her hips into his face and tried to close her legs slightly by instinct. Harry kept her one thigh pressed down hard and he used his shoulder to hold her other side down.

She cried out, “Oh god!” And threw her head back, removing her eyes from Harry’s just as she felt the spark turn into a harsh current that began to tip her into the edge of her orgasm. She knew it had been too loud. Knew that it might have woken up her housemate but she was too far away from caring about that just then. Her pussy was being snacked on in a way she’d never experienced in her life.

Harry dug himself in deeper when he could tell she was close. Her loud cry and the quiver of her thighs were a good sign. He kept at what he was doing and looked up at her soft tits as she arched her back and moaned his name.

When she began to clamp down on his fingers and her moans moved into a steady stream of whining and whimpering and her muscles tensed he knew he’d gotten her to come finally. He allowed her to have her eyes closed because he could tell it was intense. He’d have her watching him next time he made her come on his cock.

Which reminded him of what sort of state he was in. His hard dick was painfully achy. But the anticipation for what was to come had him reeling as he licked her through to her end, keeping his fingers inside of her, working her until she slowed her hips and loosened the grip on his curls.

He sat back, grabbing her hands from his hair, and looked over his handiwork. Her pussy was ready to be fucked. She was ripe for more. He knew she’d be good for another orgasm. Her body was made for this.

When she finally opened her eyes she giggled as he leaned over her frame. His face was all wet. His chin, his cheeks, and his nose were shiny with her. She followed him with her eyes as he climbed over her.

Somewhere in between her coming and right then, he’d removed his pants and boxer briefs. His cock hung heavy over her face, “Open.”

She was flat on her back as she opened her mouth for him, reaching a hand up to grasp the base of his cock to guide him to her mouth. She felt his warm tip against her lip, the smear of his precome and her slippery arousal wetting the edge of her mouth before she wrapped her lips around him.

The groan he let out was the sound of pure sex. She had barely done a thing but she was already smiling to herself at the way she made him whine.

Harry held onto the headboard with one hand and used his other to grasp the back of her head as he pushed himself down into her throat. He’d only dip in a few times. Make her swallow and gag around him once her twice because he wanted to fuck her. Wanted to feel her again.

She closed her eyes when Harry’s tip dragged against the back of her throat. He pumped himself into her a few times and she swallowed as she gagged around him. The whimper he let out made her brain swirl. She was thoroughly enjoying having her throat fucked. He wasn’t going in too hard but he was taking control of her and dipping in until she was coughing and drooling.

He pulled himself out and looked down at her, moving his hand up to her cheek with a grin, “My god, angel. Just so fucking perfect.”

She was still catching her breath. From her orgasm, from having his cock in her throat, from the intensity of the moment…

She could hear him ripping the condom wrapper open before he was back in view. He sat between her legs on his haunches as he softly moved his palms over her thighs and up to her hips, “Gonna give me another one? Come on cock this time?”

She planted her gaze on his and nodded, “Yes…” her words were a whisper.

The cheeky grin Harry returned to her had her heart fluttering. He was so painfully attractive she felt like this was all a dream.

“Good. Need you to keep your eyes on me this time, okay?” He paused as she nodded, “Want to watch your face when I make you come. Might have to cover your mouth if you get too loud like you just were. Is that okay?”

Another quick nod and a moan told him she was on board.

Harry moved his hands up her sides, pressing his fingers into her soft skin and up to her breasts, kneading at them for a moment before lining himself up to her hole, “Look at me.”

They kept their eyes locked as he slowly pressed in past her tight opening. Harry knew that if they went without a condom he might come inside of her and not want to pull out. If she felt as good as she did with a condom, he knew he’d be falling in love and down on one knee if he felt her without.

Her puffy, juicy pussy was taking him in just as he remembered. He had to work himself in and out a bit before he finally got himself into her balls deep. He would have loved to tuck himself in further but he was halted from his thick, full balls.

“Feel that, angel?” He groaned quietly as she nodded nodded in gasps. “Yeah? It’s so fucking deep, isn’t it? Love the way you spread open for me,” he rocked into her and pulled back, listening to the slick sounds it made.

He put his palms on the mattress with his body leaned over hers, using his strong back and thighs to fuck into her as deep as he could. He just wanted to be stuffed inside of her guts, fucking into her as far as humanly possible. And she felt that too. It was deep. The sharp ache made her keen but the drag of his pelvis against her clit felt otherworldly.

Her thighs were pushed back, bent at the knee as Harry laid himself into her over and over again. Thick, deep, languid strokes.

“Ahhhh!” She cried when he smacked into her, pushing her upward slightly.

Harry groaned and kept his eyes on hers, “Yeah? It’s that good, huh? Gonna have to cover your mouth now because I’m about to go a little harder.” She wanted harder. Liked soft too, but hard stuck around for days. Loved the feeling of having her pussy fucked so good she was reminded of it later on. Just like the first time they were together. She felt him every time she sat down or stood up for two days. Felt the leftover ache on her thighs and the burn on her bottom.

Harry angled himself down, pushing her thighs apart further with one hand and covering her mouth with his other. And his sudden punishing thrusts had her eyes going wide. It hadn’t been expected so quickly but he got right to it.

He could feel the vibrations of her moans against his palm as he buried himself in and pulled back to his tip before he hammered back into her repeatedly. Long, deep, fast strokes.

She was already rolling her eyes into the back of her head. He wanted her to watch him but he’d give her a small break and make her open them when she was coming. He wanted to watch her face and her eyes as she reached her peak.

Her bed creaked and the springs danced loudly. Muffled sounds of moans and the wet slap of skin filled her bedroom. Harry didn’t necessarily want her roommate to hear them but he did enjoy all the noises that came with sex. And in all honesty, they were both being as quiet as possible given how hard he was fucking her.

His thighs burned from the thrusts and his back muscles held himself steady over her, “Listen to that, angel. Our bodies connecting like that. How wet you are for me…” he moaned his words as he watched her face screw up in ecstasy. Her muted noises were stifled with his palm as he wrecked her insides.

She felt every inch of him taking her. Every slip and thrust, drag and pull, every deep nudge inside… She opened her eyes to see him already looking down at her and she nearly lost it. His hair was in his face, curls swaying, sweat building at his temples, his arms were flexing as he held himself up over her, his chest flushed and glistening from the intensity of his thrusts into her. He was so strong and so overpowering she felt like a rag doll under him flopping and grunting under his hand. She was just a hole to fuck as she clenched down on him when he pasted his hips to hers and rocked inward sharply.

“Keep those eyes open, angel. I can tell you’re about to come on my cock and I need you to look at me so you know who’s making you come,” he spoke his words through gasped breaths as he pushed into her deeply, slowing his thrusts so he could control his own orgasm. He was too close and he knew she was nearly there.

He rocked his hips into hers he ground himself down when he stuffed himself in fully, making sure her clit was being smushed against for friction. Repeatedly he fucked her little hole with slow plunges and smoothed against her clit. Every time he screwed into her to the hilt he felt his balls pressing into her bum, being wetted by her creamy arousal. He keened at the feel of her around him. Every little ridge of her insides taking him in like they were made for that very thing had him spinning.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth. He wanted to see her whole face as he fucked into her. Wanted to watch her mouth drop open as she creamed on his cock when she came, wanted to hear her cries, fuck anyone else that might hear. In that moment it was all about his angel and how good she was feeling. All he cared about was that she was being taken care of and that he was making her feel as good as she deserved.

“Harry, please… oh my god please…” she gasped as she clung tight to his back. His cock inside of her felt full and had her walls tingling and fluttering. She was reeling with pleasure and having him inside of her. Never wanted that feeling to go away. If she could bottle it up and take it with her she would. So she tried to stave off her orgasm for a moment longer.

“Begging me, baby? Want to come so bad don’t you? But it feels so good like this doesn’t it?” He used a hand to hold the side of her face as if he were being gentle with her. As if he wasn’t fucking into her deep with harsh ruts inward that had her gasping for air. His words and his soft touches and his hard cock were doing her in.

She tried. She really did. She wanted to have him fucking her like that for hours but she couldn’t hold on any longer. She began to moan, starting with a low, quiet sound, until she was crying out his name and shaking under him.

She kept her eyes open but found the task difficult as she started to come. And she realized that watching Harry while she came only intensified her orgasm. Her head swirled with his handsome face hovering over hers, looking directly at her as he made her come felt like she was being dominated in a way that she’d never experienced. He hadn’t tied her up or whipped her or anything like that, but it was the sensation of being watched while she was coming that made her feel like he was taking control. The experience of having the man who was making her come as he looked down at her at that moment felt like he’d claimed her as his. He was watching his own work come to fruition and it was a dominant act.

“Fuck, angel. Just like that. Come all over me. She me how good it feels.”

Y/n babbled an unintelligible response and moaned around her syllables and vowels. She didn’t know what she was saying as she forced her eyes to stay on his.

And it had been worth it to keep her eyes open when she saw Harry’s face pinch up and his mouth drop open. She could hear his groan and the harsh thuds into her cunt before he stilled and clenched his teeth as his cock throbbed inside of her. He was coming and she got to see it on the tail end of her own orgasm and it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

“Ahhh!” He panted as he sucked in a deep breath and choked out a loud moan. The release was heaven. He came so hard he wondered if it could be possible to leak out of his condom. He pumped and throbbed and worked himself to his end as he looked down at the pretty angel under him all fucked out and smiley on his cock.

His chest heaved as he twitched the last little bit and his features relaxed on the comedown. He kept himself over her as he began to smile, “You okay?”

She was melted below him, a soft smile on her lips as she nodded, “So fucking good. Oh my god…” she whispered.

Harry gently pulled himself off of her and checked to verify that he hadn’t in fact leaked out of his condom before pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. He’d deal with the cleanup later. In that moment he needed to hold her and kiss her for a while.

She felt her body pulled against his and then his lips caressing over hers. Soft and reassuring. Her orgasm had been intense. Maybe the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had. The eye contact was something she hadn’t expected. She thought it would feel silly. At first, it made her feel vulnerable but when she could tell how much he needed it, needed her eyes on his it felt like a rush. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she came so hard.

She kissed him back and put her hands up to his shoulders. Lazy and soft and sweet.

Harry pushed his nose into hers and spoke softly, “That was really, really good, Y/n. You don’t mind if I stay the night here, do you?”

Shaking her head she scraped her nails against the nape of his neck, “I want you to stay. Please.”

.           .           .

Waking up in her bed with Harry next to her felt like a wild fantasy. She considered pinching herself as she fluttered her eyes open and saw his sleeping face smushed into her pillow. The night before he’d been a sex god. A man so fine with a masculine and well-muscled body that he made her mouth water and her clit throb. He’d fucked her so good and it was so hot it gave her goosebumps just thinking about it. But there he was lying in her bed asleep, pink lips and glossy eyelids, small puffs of breath coming from his nose, and adorably messy hair. She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around how he went from the man who took control of her the night before to the soft, cute, sleeping beauty the very next morning.

He asked if he could stay. Said he wanted to be with her a little longer. And that was the part that really stuck with her. Sure he was handsome and then some. They got along so well and everything felt so compatible with him. And that was a problem. Because he wasn’t just some guy. This was Harry Styles. She couldn’t go getting her feeling too mixed up in everything. But he made it hard with the way he treated her and handled her. Like they’d known one another for an eternity.

On their first night together it was clear that what they were doing was just something fun and that was it. Which she was fine with. She happily accepted his terms then. Just as she happily said yes to him staying the night this time. Whatever he wanted she was fine with it. Well, she hoped she’d be fine. Because she was sure he’d never get his feelings mixed up with sex when it came to her.

Gently putting her fingers into his hair she saw his eyelids move and then slowly he graced her with his gorgeous eyes and then a soft smile.

He didn’t say anything before he dragged her the short distance to rest her head on the pillow his head was on and kissed her.

And it went from a quiet soft morning make out to Harry’s erection poking into her hip and then scrambling for a condom with messy hair and soft sighs to a slow break of day fuck.

The springs in her bed bounced gently with every thrust of his hips. Harry kept his mouth glued to hers as he drove into her soft, wet pussy. All of her blankets had been kicked to the floor in a rush for the condom and switching positions on the bed and now it was just two bodies at the center finding relief and catching an early orgasm before their day began.

Harry rocked into her, his cock so hard and thick she felt every single inch of him moving into her and slipping back before he languidly pushed in until his hips met hers. She had her ankles crossed over his back and Harry had one hand cradling the back of her head, his mouth covering hers while his other forearm kept himself held up slightly, his chest against hers.

She gasped under him, reaching for breath every time he thrust into her. His own panting grew more desperate and soon the first sound of his voice was heard for the day, a whimpered moan falling from his throat as he felt her walls taking him in with a decadent squeeze and wet squelch.

Morning sex was always Y/n’s favorite, but it turned out it was Harry’s too. It was less fussy really. Just two tired bodies wanting to connect and feel pleasure in the golden morning light. No preamble or big to-do. Just soft morning sex and a delicious orgasm to get the day started off right.

The moment Y/n’s moan grew loud and Harry felt her cunt spasming and pulling him in deeply he let go, spurting into his condom and licking into her mouth as he throbbed in ecstasy.

And just like the night before and the first night she’d spent with him, she was amazed. Maybe it was the shape of his cock or their natural chemistry. Or maybe it was just Harry, but somehow the sex with him was beyond just good sex. She was going to be haunted by this man.

When he pulled out he held her thighs apart and lapped at her gently, just for a taste. Just to enjoy one more little squeal from her throat, which she immediately gifted him.

“Harry stop! I’m too sensitive!” She pushed at his forehead and he smiled up at her before collapsing onto the bed next to her.

He hated navigating relationships because being famous already put his life under a microscope. Most of the time it wasn’t worth it to keep seeing someone for sex unless it was a person he knew feelings would never be a problem with, and they could both have the understanding that it was just sex. But that was rare for him. Harry was all or nothing with sex usually. It was either a one-time deal or he’d want a long-term committed relationship. And the latter was complicated for someone with his lifestyle. His last long-term relationship was something he’d take with him forever. He considered it a lesson learned. And for him that meant needing to be very picky and selective about whom he let into his heart.

No more mixing business with pleasure and then taking on the guilt of having a public break-up. No more women with super complicated lives that he could get mixed up into.

He felt like he was treading dangerously with Y/n. He didn’t want to hurt her and he didn’t want to get himself hurt either. But he could see himself being with someone like her. He liked her spice and her straightforward demeanor. She was confident and funny. She wasn’t the type that he’d be able to keep his feelings separated from the sex with. He was already getting attached.

“What?” He asked her. She was lying next to him, they were sharing a pillow and she had a small smirk on her face as she gazed over his features.

“Nothing. It’s stupid,” her grin didn’t fall off her face.

Harry brought a hand up to her jaw and he thumbed gently toward her temple, “Tell me. I like stupid sometimes,” he laughed.

She bit her lip and looked away from him for a few moments before putting her eyes back on his, “Your song, Watermelon Sugar. It’s about cunnilingus?” Her smile widened feeling ridiculous asking him such a question but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Ever since the night before when he made her come from eating her out (a rarity for her) and then that morning after they’d had sex when he went in for a quick lick.

Harry laughed and nodded, “I guess. Yeah. Why?”

“Cause you just seem to really like it.”

Harry took in a deep breath and moved his hand down her side, “I love it. Is that okay?”

She looked at him like he was crazy, “Of course it is. Very much so.”

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Harry had been fun and sweet. And to know that this famous man could have anyone he wanted yet he chose to spend the night with her felt like something quite special. Something she wouldn’t get the chance to do ever again. To have him in bed at all was a crazy notion. But to have it happen twice?

“I want to see you again. When I get back to LA in a couple of months. Is that okay?” He said as he pulled her in for a hug before they left her bedroom. His car was waiting for him.

His words shocked her. Again?

“Oh. Yeah… Sure. That would be fun.” She was surprised. Stunned. If he wanted to see her again what did that mean? Was he thinking of her as more than just someone to have sex with?

“Well, geez. You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it,” he laughed as he pulled back from the hug.

Shaking her head she grinned, “Just didn’t expect you to want to see me again. You’re gonna be gone for months. I mean… I’d love to. Of course. But you know… No pressure.”

“Of course, there’s no pressure. I’m just saying I’d like to see you again if you’re free when I return to LA. That’s all.”

Letting out the breath she’d held in she nodded, “Yes, Harry. I’d really like that.”

Harry smiled softly and put a hand up to her face to press his palm over her cheek as he looked her over, “Gonna miss you, angel. Wish I could take you with me.”

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#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #famous!harry #famous!harry x reader #harry styles fic #popstar!harry #firstpost #harry styles writing #commissioned work #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x yn #one direction #harry styles x y/n #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fiction

[souryoong]

good for you | myg (18+)

Pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x f!reader

Genre: smut!! (18+ readers only pls), established relationship

Word Count: 2,278

Summary: you've been teasing your boyfriend over text while he's been away in paris for business, and he comes home early to teach you a lesson.

Warnings: mentions of sexting, cunnilingus, fingering, making out, clitoral stimulation, tongue kissing, praise kink, edging, reader gets teary, orgasm denial, hitting it from the back, creampie (god I still hate that word!!). also showering together is henced because after all, they are a couple.

Authors Note: hi guys!!! welcome to my own version of march madness (some watch basketball, I write smut. jk I do like basketball too.) I said it before, but just in case you didn't hear, I am celebrating yoongi's bday as well as my own this month by posting my favorite pisces 2 (or 3? its the aries in me to be a menace) times this month. enjoy the smut and happy birthday to my twin flame, yoongi!!

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Yoongi’s patience with you seemed to always be never ending. Nothing that you did ever seemed to cross the line, and when it did, you knew.

Well, today was one of those days.

Yoongi had been in Paris for work for a few days, and with the time difference, you got bored at night and stayed up late, sending him pictures and videos of yourself. They started off with sending him cute outfits that you bought, and then lingerie. However, he stopped responding when you sent him a video of yourself in the bathtub, making you wonder if you might have taken things a little too far. You didn’t want to interrupt him if he was dealing with important business.

Feeling kind of panicky and unsure what Yoongi was thinking, you eventually went to bed, hoping he would somehow not see it, or completely forget about it.

In the morning, you woke up to a text from Yoongi.

Yoongi: You like teasing me like that don’t you, distracting me from work?

You knew he wasn’t actually mad, he probably did enjoy what you were sending him, but maybe it was a bad time.

You thought for a second, and sent a quick text back to him.

You: Just thinking about you, baby.

Hoping that smoothed things over, you went on with your day. Since the time difference, you weren’t expecting to hear from Yoongi until later on in the night.

Later on, when you were winding down for the night, changing into your pajamas, your boss at work called a zoom meeting, discussing some business endeavors.

Since you were very much not modest — your pajamas were a pair of underwear and a big t shirt, your camera was turned off so no one could see you.

The meeting felt like it was going on for forever, you had one of your AirPods in even though sometimes you felt like you probably weren’t even paying attention. The good thing was is that you probably didn’t have to talk.

You pulled your knees in towards your chest in your chair at your desk, taking a drink from your glass that was next to your computer mouse. Suddenly, you heard a knock, but brushed it off as one of your coworkers making noise. You didn’t look away from your computer screen.

A few seconds later, there was another knock that was slightly louder than before; making you realize it was in the room and not coming from the computer. You looked around the room and was almost in disbelief when you saw Yoongi leaning against the doorway, one of his hands in his pocket of his tan colored suit.

“Yoongi?” You questioned him quickly. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.”

Yoongi stepped towards you. “My manager told me there was an earlier flight, so I left right after my event; hence why I’m so dressed up.”

“Yeah, you look so sexy.” You complimented him as he walked behind you. “What made you decide to leave early?”

That was a stupid question.

“Oh did someone suddenly forget what she did to me?” Yoongi’s large hands were on your shoulders.

You were silent, looking at your computer.

“Hey sweetheart. That was a question.” Yoongi leaned down, his low voice in your ear.

“I forgot about it.” You responded, reaching to rest one of your hands onto his.

“I’m not mad. You can send me whatever you want; you know that.” Yoongi brushed a piece of hair away from his face. “But to send me a video of you in the bathtub, while I’m sitting at a meeting? I had to cover my lap like I’m a goddamn teenager.”

You smirked to yourself at his reaction, not realizing he wasn’t done talking.

“Now I’m in the mood to edge you until you cry. Make you learn your lesson.”

You bit down on your bottom lip. Fuck. You knew Yoongi meant it when he said things like that.

“Yoongi, I —" You started to speak, but you were cut off.

“Hey, looks like someone has a meeting to listen to, right?” You wondered how long he was standing there earlier as he planted a few kisses along your neck, making you close your eyes. He was for sure pushing your buttons as you hummed in response.

“How was Paris?” You tried to distract your mind, at this point you weren’t even paying attention to your meeting.

“It was nice. I think you’d like it. Next time you should go with me.” One of his hands was now on your inner thigh, and you knew for sure that you were probably soaking your panties.

“I think —“ Your words were cut off when Yoongi’s fingers brushed against your clothed clit, making you swallow hard.

He moved one of your legs to rest on top of the desk, giving himself full view of your panties that were in fact soaked.

“Already worked up for me?” It was a stupid question to ask; you always were.

“Yoongi.” You spoke, a neediness in your voice.

He moved your chair back, somewhat startling you. Then he was hovering over you; his face close to yours. He gave you a quick kiss, making your heart flutter.

He slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties. “Lift your hips.” Yoongi suddenly spoke, and you did.

Yoongi pulled down your panties, swearing to himself when he saw how wet you were. Stuffing them in his suit pocket, he turned your chair and got on his knees in front of you.

“Fuck.” Yoongi muttered to himself, putting his hands on your thighs. You felt like you were holding your breath. Trying to focus on your computer screen, but also trying to brace yourself for Yoongi’s tongue or fingers.

Yoongi barely touched your clit with his thumb; making you jump. He pressed harder, moving in slow circles.

You let out a sigh, practically feeling your arousal dripping out of you at this point. Yoongi paused for a second, pulling your hips towards himself so that you were sort of laying back in your chair; and more comfortable. Just as you looked away from Yoongi, you felt him push his middle and ring finger inside of you, pressing against your front wall hard.

You cried out his name, leaning your head back.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Yoongi grunted. “Fuck.” He was right, you could hear the squelching noises from his fingers going in and out of you.

Yoongi didn’t say anything before leaning down and sucking your clit into his mouth; forming a rhythm with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you.

Your body shuddered when his fingers brushed against your sweet spot; and you knew you weren’t going to last long if he kept going like this.

One of your hands was in his long, dark hair; trying to hold him there. You could feel yourself getting close, hanging on the edge of your orgasm.

Until suddenly, Yoongi stopped.

“Yoongi!” You were so frustrated, panting. “What the fuck?”

“Baby.” Yoongi spoke lowly, kissing your inner thigh. “Did I say that you could cum?”

“No.” You sighed, looking towards your computer screen.

“Be good for me.” Yoongi glanced up at you, giving you a look that gave you chills and reminded you that you were practically naked in your home office, while he was still fully clothed.

He suddenly stood up in front of you, removing his tan suit jacket; and then throwing it off to the floor. Yoongi leaned in close, grabbing your jaw and giving you a deep kiss; making you taste your own arousal.

“Can you do that for me?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You answered, even though it didn’t sound very promising. “But Yoongi, I think I might have to talk in this.”

“Then you can talk.” Yoongi pressed three of his fingers against your clit, then in a half of a second they were inside of you again.

Yoongi was going way harder than before; fucking you with his fingers. He stood up, trying to get better leverage. You felt his fingers bump your sweet spot, making you grab onto him; practically begging him not to stop.

“Yoongi, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Your voice was a whine as your walls were clenching his fingers.

On the brink of your second orgasm, you could hear the squelching noise coming from between your legs; realizing that you were probably gushing at this point.

“Yoongi.” You whined, pulling him in for a kiss.

You felt his fingers leave you again, making you let out a sob of a moan against his mouth. At this point you wanted to cry. You wished that your stupid meeting was over and Yoongi was pounding you into your mattress.

“Yoongi, I don’t know if I can take it anymore.” Your voice was shaky as you exhaled.

“I think you can handle more.” Yoongi answered you. He was right, you always liked to push yourself until you found your limit.

You let out a whine when you felt his fingers teasing your entrance again. “Yoongi, please.”

In what seemed like perfect timing; you heard everyone in your meeting saying their goodbyes and wrapping up.

“Alright have a good night everyone, see you Monday morning.”

You watched Yoongi in front of you undoing his belt, and throw it onto the floor with a thud. You quickly unmuted yourself in the meeting to say good bye, then left.

You took out the one AirPod you had in your right ear just in time for Yoongi to grab your chin with one of his hands, kissing you with such a force you thought he’d bruise you.

You grabbed onto his wrist when he simultaneously slipped his tongue into your mouth as his fingers started rubbing your now over sensitive clit.

Yoongi let out a moan into your mouth, making your core clench around nothing.

You broke away from the kiss, his face was still close to yours. Practically aching for him, you whined. “Yoongi, please.”

Swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, Yoongi stood back up, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Go to the couch. With your back towards me.”

As Yoongi’s shirt was discarded onto the floor, you got up out of your chair; your legs feeling like they didn’t belong to yourself at first. The couch was only a few steps away from your chair at your desk.

You put your knees onto the seat of the couch, then leaned your upper body onto the back rest. Never thinking you’d be having sex in your office; you were glad that this couch was surprisingly roomy.

Hearing movement and fabric rustling, you could only assume that Yoongi’s pants were now off. He moved his hand along the small of your back, pushing your t shirt up to expose more of your body to him.

“Fuck.” Yoongi swore as you arched your back, getting ready for him. “Look at you.”

You let out a moan when you felt his cock head against your entrance, and you moved, trying to fuck yourself onto him.

Yoongi grabbed a hold of your hips, keeping you still he pushed himself inside of you; bottoming out in one thrust.

“Fuck!” You let out a moan, your mouth falling open.

Yoongi sucked in a harsh breath. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

You put your knees further apart on the couch in attempts to feel him a little deeper.

“Yoongi, fuck.” You slightly turned, grabbing onto his wrist as he held onto you. “Don’t stop.”

You felt him nudge your g-spot, making your walls abruptly clench around him. You could tell that your orgasm was somewhat close.

Suddenly Yoongi pulled you up so your back was against his chest; the new angle making you feel him so deep it was like he was in your stomach.

Your eyes were watering as you still clutch onto him. “Fuck, Yoongi I’m so close.” Leaning back into him, he planted a few kisses along your shoulder and neck.

Yoongi reached between hour legs with one hand and started to rub your clit, and your legs started to shake underneath you.

Your eyes were getting teary as Yoongi’s pace never faltered. “Yoongi, please.” Your voice was a whine. “Let me cum.”

“Yeah, you wanna cum?” Yoongi’s voice was breathy against your neck.

“Please.” You leaned into him, one of your hands making its way to his dark hair as you craned your neck to kiss him. “Tell me I’m a good girl.”

Yoongi grunted, starting to fuck into you so hard that you fell forwards back onto the couch. “My good girl.” It was almost as if he was enunciating the words with his thrusts.

“Oh god.” The words left your mouth like a sob as your orgasm crashed into you; this time Yoongi doing nothing to stop it. Your body nearly trembling as Yoongi continued fucking into you. “Fuck.”

“Shit.” Yoongi swore under his breath, his hips stuttering before releasing himself inside of you.

“Yoongi.” You whined at the feeling before it was apparent it was running down your inner thigh. You laughed slightly. “My couch.”

“What?” He was panting, then laughed with you. “Sorry, baby.”

You turned to face him. “God, what time is it? I’m exhausted.”

“You’re telling me. I’m jetlagged as fuck right now.”

You looked up at him, both of you were sweaty, fucked out, and exhausted.

“I’m happy you’re home.”

Yoongi smiled at you, pulling you up off of the couch. “Me too, now let’s take a shower and go the fuck to bed.”

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Tags: @dearlyjoonie @thepurpleghost @che-er-ful @thoughtfullysassysublime @yoongiscta @polyparkj

#bts smut #min yoongi smut #suga bts #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #happy yoongi day!!! #souryoong march madness

[cup1dt3a]

Hi, hope this is ok to request, if not feel free to ignore it. Can I request a continuation of the story you recently wrote about reader and their sister watching welcome home and them talking with Wally?. I would love to see Wally and Reader starting to bond and if you’re comfortable writing it, the reader falling in love with Wally too. Thanks so much.

Your wish is my command! Also you’re too kind and your request is so wholesome I like it. Way more fluffy than my original idea but I like it better since my last post was kind of dark! Anyways hope you all enjoy!

“ Wally! Look it’s us! There’s me, big ___, and you!” Your sister happily exclaimed to the puppet wanting to show off their stick figure drawing.

“ Oh that’s very nice little one have you shown ___ yet?” He asked through the screen with a small tilt to his head as they shook theirs.

“ No it’s a surprise so don’t tell them!” They said putting a finger to their lips as a way to say it’s a secret.

It’s been a month since your “conversation” with Wally and true to his word he watched over her like a hawk. Taking care of them with their limited reach throughout the screen. You were just happy he kept his word but you still had an odd feeling about him. Throughout the passing month as you supervised their interactions each one was wholesome and sweeter than the last. Almost too cute in your opinion. Your sister tried to hug the Tv once and accidentally brought it down with her thinking it would be a good idea to pick it up. After having the biggest scare of both your lives her and Wally were ok. Thankfully the Tv didn’t shatter and the weight didn’t crush her. But she had sobbed her eyes out from the scare of the Tv coming down onto her.

Both you and Wally comforted her after the scare and for once she had calmed down very quickly. Completely fine just a little scratch on her cheek. She called it her battle scar it made her happy so whatever. But you were just amazed at how fast she calmed down. Still flabbergasted as you made your way back from work. You set out enough food to last her a few hours and she knew to get food she wanted from the pantry or fridge so she would be ok. But with Wally’s help you had a free babysitter so it was a win win.

You turned the key to your apartment yawning as you made your entrance. Right as your younger sibling excitedly hugged you in the darkness of your home startling you for a second.

“ Geez, you almost scared me!” You chuckled hugging them back before putting your bag down.

“ I made you something!” They said before could ask turning on a light switch to show the colorful stick figures.

They explained it was all of you. Each drawn out as stick figures she was at the side of you holding your left hand while a very tall Wally held your right.

“ Hmm…very lovely buuut.” You said as they looked up at you in confusion before snickering adding “ I think Wally would be a lot shorter.”

You saw the puppet huff out in the corner of your eye making you giggle. Your sister also huffed at you upset for making Wally upset. The puppet blushed upon seeing your gorgeous glow as you giggled out ever so graciously. If only you knew what you did to him with that beautiful smile.

You plopped down onto your comfy bed sighing in delight to finally be off your feet. You had just put your sister to bed and they compliantly agreed to go to bed right away if they got pancakes. Pancakes also had been sounding super good to you so why not? Besides you were too tired to argue with anything at the moment. You had worked 2 extra hours and went through three rush hours. They were all so much fun. Your feet were aching and your eyes formed bags getting heavier as you kept your irises open.

As you turned over to face your Tv about to put a horror movie or something on Wally all the sudden appeared with his big smiling face.

“ Tiring day huh my sweet dreamer?” He said with a tilt to his head as you nodded.

“ Poor thing always working so hard. You’re wilting more than a flower in the winter.” He cooed at you as you slowly dazed off.

“ Good night my sweet.” He told you.

“ Night love you.” You replied only half awake to have any conception of what you said as you snuggled your pillow closer to you

He froze. He couldn’t believe it. You just said that. You said you love him. Oh how the words just replayed in his head as if they were his favorite lyrics of a song. Repeatedly echoing through this head as he watched you ever so peacefully sleep going off into your own fantasies. He wondered if you ever fantasized about him. What would you think or see him as in your dreams. Oh he hoped they were as good as his. He yearned everyday for the feeling of your flesh on top of his. Oh how would you smell? How would you feel? What would you do if you were given the opportunity to have him in person? Oh he hoped you’d embrace him as tight as he hoped to. You’re such a delightful little sweet of his. His own forbidden fruit that was all his to savior and enjoy.

As you dreamed away in your fantasy land the puppet had longingly gazed at you the whole night admiring every bit of you he could take in. Even with his limited access to you you never failed to grace him with your generous looks. Oh great gods how you reduced him into nothing other than a mushy mess of putty for you. Just for you. After all everything he did was for you.

You woke up earlier than usual but still felt so well rested. Stretching out you noticed the the screen was blank for once. It was odd usually Wally was there to greet you. You oddly wanted him to greet you. Your morning just felt off if he wasn’t there to greet you with his big dark eyes and wide smile on your Tv screen. You got up to go check if he was busy with your little sister. You checked their room just to be sure they were awake and to your surprise they were sleeping. You looked at the time seeing it was only 6 in the morning. No wonder they’re still knocked out. You swiped your hair back pushing your bangs and loose strands of hair to go and find out where Wally was. You yawned again as you went to the living room still not seeing your little friend.

“ Wally?” You called out hearing no reply.

“ Wally you there?” You asked out again.

You didn’t know why but you felt your heart stop knowing he wasn’t here. You couldn’t help but no notice ho empty you were starting to feel without him as you continued on with your day. You made pancakes at 8:15am he still wasn’t there. You finished getting ready for your shift at 9 o’clock. You took your sister to work with you not sure if he’d even come back. It was a rainy day out so you made sure they brought their raincoat and umbrella. Your boss was fine with you bringing her even without asking before hand. He had expressed this multiple times, so you hadn’t bothered to ask this time.

It was again a very busy day at work. Your sister this time had to play with herself since Charley wasn’t there today due to him having to go on some diet because of stomach inflammation. Along with them not having any food suitable for his diet here. And yes, your sister had asked your boss all about that while you insisted she didn’t and left them alone. He once again said he didn’t mind but you felt so bad! As you dragged her to an area where she wouldn’t bother any customers you finally got back to your shift, after getting her some food. Sure you wasted your own lunch break but she needed to eat either way. She was still a growing girl she needed protein even as much as she protested against broccoli she ate it with a glare at you.

As you went back to your shift you couldn’t help but have your mind wonder to where Wally possibly could have went. You sighed out pulling back a strand of hair as you wiped down the messy table. Some people seriously can’t even try and have some decency as to not make a huge mess. You wondered if they poured their food all over the table at this point.

You chuckled at a thought lingering where you accidentally poured soup into your lap. Wally had made it a joke where-

“ Hey! Hello anyone home?” Your coworker clapped their hands in front of you getting your attention.

“ What is it?” You asked as they crossed their arms. “ Wha- What’s been up with you? Smiling and gazing off into the distance…Do you like some one?” They asked.

“ No!” You said “ Lies! Plus you suck at lying.” They exclaimed teasing you.

This is how your day continued being constantly teased by your co-worker and checking up on your little sister. Before you knew it was the end of your shift. Just as you were about to leave your boss pulled you to the side. First, thanking you for your hard work then requesting you to work another shift for tomorrow since they’re low on staff. You tiredly agreed wishing him a goodnight as you went to get your sister. Helping her zip up her raincoat and sort her stuff back together you both walked back home. Glancing at any Tv screen to see if Wally was there. Sadly none of them displayed the yellow puppet all just a blank screen or some show. But soon enough you didn’t have anytime to see if he was on them because the rain had started to get heavier. You both rushed back hand in hand trying to watch your step as the rain drops flooded the streets.

Panting as you made your way up the stairs you finally reached your apartment door. Just as you got out your key the door had ever so slowly opened nothing but darkness was seen in the room through the creek. Someone must have broken in while you were gone. Your heart raced on what to do. You just wanted to lay down and go to sleep but no the universe just loves to fuck you over everyday. You looked down at your sister while she looked up at you with nothing but confusion and worry. You softly smiled at her and dropped her over at your neighbors apartment across from yours. Even asking them if they heard anyone going into your apartment which they replied no.

Now this is even more concerning. Did they take anything? Oh no what if they took all the money you’ve been saving up? What if they stole every ounce of clothing, money, or food you had. Sure it wasn’t that much but still!! Before leaving your neighbors house you unzipped your bag grabbing out your trusty old bat you used to use. Slowly opening the door trying to make it not creak as lid you went inside. You held your breath as your heart raced protesting. Walking through the empty darkness slowly creeping towards where you leave any money in case they had left or you just forgot to lock the door. Just as you opened the drawer the lights suddenly flickered on. Blinding you as you squinted only to feel long thin arms wrapping around you while a head rested onto your shoulder.

“ Hello my sweet-“ the familiar voice said as you punched the poor soul behind you cutting them off. Wait a minute my sweet? That what…oh shit.

“ Wally? Is that you?” you stuttered turning around as the tall figures head lied low cupping his now bleeding nose.

“ In the flesh. Literally I have flesh now.” He said looking up as he dusted his rainbow trousers off ignoring his bleeding nose now.

“ How-“ you questioned as he answered quickly ” It’s a tricky process buut I managed.”

He then gazed into your eyes with his own. It was odd but he really did resemble his puppet form in this now human one. His hair still in his signature swirl with his large black eyes peering down onto yours with admiration.

“ Tired hmm?” He asked as you nodded before he scooped you up.

This was going to be getting some used to. Now with his lanky tall figure being able to scoop you up and embrace you any moment. You had made fun of him being short once any now this is what you get great. Your tired mind wasn’t comprehending many many questions that should have been asked but right now you didn’t really care.

Tysm for reading hope your day is going well or gets better

Sincerely - Cup1sT3a💌

#wally darling #welcome home wally #welcome home x reader #welcome home #yandere wally darling #gender neutral reader #gender neutral mc #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere welcome home

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Falling for you

Summary: When you decided to bring your daughter to Colombia to work for the CIA to take Pablo Escobar down, you never thought you would find someone to fall in love with....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 6.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: colleagues to friends to lovers, reader has a daughter, mentions of dead husband, death of best friend, angst, fluff, domestic Javi, kissing, smut (unprotected sex), feeeeeelings

A/N: This fic has been in the making for almost 2 years. I can't really explain why, but it took a long time and before I keep on editing it, I put it out in the world. I'm aware the last thing the CIA would do is send a single mother with her child to Columbia in the eighties but this is fiction and I don't want to hear complaints lol Also please let me know how you like the mood boards this year. I'm trying to change things up

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“He’s starring again.” You looked up from the file you were reading, looking at your partner Enrique before you let your eyes wander to the desk across the room. You had been here in Colombia for a good three months now. It might have been the worst idea you ever had to take your daughter with you to one of the most dangerous countries in the world, but it was not like something was holding you back in the states. 

You were used to the looks of all the men who thought they were more important than you. 

More intelligent than you.

The whispers behind your back. 

The catcalls. 

How they always tried to talk over you. But they didn’t know what you knew. They didn’t know the resources you had. Working as one of the few women at the CIA as an active agent took a lot from you. But you did it for the greater good. You did not talk to many of the men working in your department. Except for your partner Enrique and your supervisor. You and Enrique had been working together back in the states and him coming with you was one of the conditions you had before you agreed to go. You needed someone you could trust if you would work here to help to take down the biggest drug cartel in the world. You needed someone you could trust your daughter with, apart from the two nannies the CIA was providing all around the clock. 

Of course the safer and easier way would have been to stay back in the states. Where your daughter could play outside without being watched by at least one CIA Agent. But ever since your husband died almost four years ago on a mission, you had been searching for the change you needed in your life. And against all better judgement you found yourself agreeing to go and take your six year old daughter Eva with you to Colombia. Was it crazy? Obviously. Did it still feel like the right decision? Absolutely.

Javier Peña was looking at you, a cigarette between his lips. The first three buttons of his baby blue shirt were open and his finger kept rubbing over the side of his face. You nodded at him before you focused back on the files in front of you.

“Do you think he would still look at you like that if he knew about Eva?” Enrique whispered. You rolled your eyes. 

“He can look at me all he wants. I know how good I look today,” you chuckled and made him laugh. You were wearing a white silk blouse and dark red dress pants.

You did enjoy flirting with Javier Peña. 

He and his partner Steve were the only ones around here who actually talked to you. And in Javier’s case, try to get into your pants. And a part of you did enjoy the attention you got for him.

No one had looked at you like he did since your late husband. 

And even though you knew it was dangerous to entertain his flirtations, you found yourself doing it. You found yourself thinking about him more often, even though you knew that nothing would ever come out of it. He was, well, he was Javier Peña. Fucking everything that just looked his way and you were a widowed single mom. 

Of course you did enjoy it when he invited you for a drink after work at the bar around the corner. Who wouldn’t enjoy being invited for a drink by a handsome man? The problem you had was that he knew exactly how handsome he was and he knew how to use it. Because deep down, in the moments Javier Peña was just himself and not the guarded DEA Agent with commitment issues, you could see him as a man you could fall in love with.

“Why did we end up in this shithole again?” Enrique asked. You were about to answer when Carillo came back in, shouting in Spanish and everyone around got up and moved.

“What’s happening?” You asked, internally cursing yourself for not knowing more Spanish.

“Something about La Quico and a brothel?” 

There was something about La Quico and a brothel and you knew from the moment you heard about the intel and the plan that it would go to shit. Now, as you were standing outside, bulletproof vest still on, watching how body after body was carried out of the building, you kept shaking your head. 

If any of these fuckers would have just listened to you. 

Woman after woman was carried out. Dead. But your knees almost gave out when you saw your partner's lifeless body being carried out. Hugging yourself, you looked away from him and up to the sky to stop yourself from crying, They did not need to see you crying. You would wait to break down until you were home and after your daughter was tucked it.

You felt someone stand next to you.

“I’m sorry,” Javier said and you breathed in deeply, not looking away from the sky.

“It’s not your fault,” you answered quietly. Because it wasn’t. Javier actually had been more than vocal about what a shit idea this was in the first place.

“I’m still sorry,” you smelled the smoke he breathed out and you finally looked at him. He looked as tired as you felt. You reached for the cigarette between his lips inhaling the smoke yourself, before you handed it back to him. Steve came to stand beside him, the same tired expression on his face.

“I think we could all use a drink,” he said and you sighed.

“He’s been my partner for more than 8 years. And my friend for almost 20,” you shook your head, looking at Steve before your eyes fell back on Javier.

“I really wanna go home.” 

“We’ll take you.” Steve said.

You could still see the lights on in your daughters room and you sighed. You weren’t ready to tell her that her Uncle Ric wouldn’t be helping her with her Spanish skills anymore, that he wouldn’t help her paint her bedroom after he made the big plan for her to get her jungle book room.

“I’ll walk you in,” Javier said as the car stopped. You only nodded, saying your thanks to Steve as you stepped out and walked across the street. 

“Are you okay on your own tonight?” He asked, as you opened the door to the house, walking in. Javier kept following you.

“I’m not alone, and I am planning on getting drunk and then cry myself to sleep. It’s Saturday tomorrow right?” You asked and he nodded. 

“I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” Javier said quietly. You felt the tears in the corner of your eyes and you prayed he would just turn around and leave. You just nodded, your lips already trembling. The reality of how alone you felt hit you like a brick as you looked at the apartment door across from yours, where Enrique lived… used to live. 

“Please go Javier. I don’t need you to see me breaking down,” you pleaded and turned away from him, putting the key into the lock of your apartment.

He sighed before he said your name. You felt his hand on your shoulder and against your better judgement you turned around and let him pull you against him, as you sobbed into his shirt.

You blamed it on the loss of your best friend, the need to feel something, that you just leaned in, your ear on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his hands rubbed soothingly over your back.

“You are going to get through this,” he whispered. You enjoyed this moment. Standing outside of your apartment in his arms. He wasn’t being a flirt. He was just there to comfort you. You breathed in deeply, his scent in your nose and you had never noticed just how good he smelled.

“Thank you Javier,” you whispered and brought some distance in between you. Looking up into his tired eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you, you were more than grateful when you heard footsteps behind your door. Untangling yourself from him you brushed your tears away and put a smile on your lips just in time before the door opened. Eva jumped into your arms as you turned around.

“I missed you Mommy!” She giggled and you felt yourself smile as you picked her up and carried her in your arms.

“I missed you too, princess,” you whispered into her hair, before you set her down.

Looking up you saw Maria standing there with a tired smile on her lips. 

“I tried everything Miss, but she wanted to wait until you’re home.” 

“It’s okay. Thank you,” you nodded at her. She looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding Javier standing in your door as if he was out of place. Maria nodded at him as she said her goodbyes. He stepped out of her way as she left.

“Either in or out Pena,” you said. He looked at you, about to open his mouth when Eva came back with a painting she had made today.

“Who is that?” She asked looking at Javier.

“That is one of the Agents I’m working with,” you explained nodding at him. He still looked between you and Eva like a fish out of the water before he shook out of it.

“I’m Javi. And I should go before my partner drives off without me,” he said the last words looking at you. You nodded.

“Bye Javi. Thanks for bringing my mom home safe,” Eva smiled, and you sighed.

“Go brush your teeth, I’ll tuck you in in just a moment, okay?” You smiled down at her, your hands brushing over her cheek before you leaned down to kiss her forehead. She nodded, waving towards Javier and left the room to go to the bathroom.

“She’s a…” Javier began.

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking towards him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“You never asked,” you shrugged. He nodded. You could see the many questions he had in his eyes. 

“Will the two of you be okay here tonight? Alone?”

“We will. Thank you. And now go, before Steve actually drives off without you,“ you smiled forced.

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday?” He asked, sucking his bottom lip in. You nodded.

“Good night Javier,” He nodded too and turned around, slowly walking down the hallway.

“It’s Javi,” he called over his shoulder and you frowned.

“Friends get to call me Javi,” he looked at you. You had to smile at that before you finally closed the door behind you.

Within two weeks after this day, everything had changed. You moved into the same building as Javi and Steve, after a brief visit to the states for Enrique’s funeral. You actually found a close friend in Steve’s wife Connie. But most of all the absence of your best friend had been hard on you. 

You never actually told him how grateful you were for his help. And for coming to this country with you, just because you felt the need to change your life. You spend the nights crying yourself to sleep, feeling responsible for his death. If he hadn’t agreed to come down to Colombia with you, he would still be alive. 

And you wouldn’t have to look into your daughters sad eyes when she remembered that Uncle Ric wouldn’t come around to cook her favourite meal. You never learned the secret on what exactly Enrique did with the mac & cheese that made her go absolutely nuts, and now you wouldn’t have a chance to. 

Work had been one big mess ever since the fail at the brothel. And it took all willpower you had to not go around and tell everyone “I told you so”. You also had a new partner. Well, two. Steve and Javier insisted on you joining them. Not that you had a chance when you came back on Monday morning and your desk was standing a joined to theirs. You had spend the whole weekend crying when you weren’t around Eva and this had almost made you tear up again.

Javier had almost entirely stopped flirting with you, which was the biggest change. He had actually been nothing but nice and respectful and you were wondering what it was that made him like this. Not that you minded. 

He made the effort to get to know you, asking little question here and there. Asking about Eva and what her hobbies were. 

You were fascinated by this side of Javi you got to know now. 

But somehow you missed the way he used to look at you. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Steve asked, as you were sitting over another file of leads going nowhere.

“We wanted to paint Eva’s room. She chose green. And I absolutely hate it,” you chuckled.

“How come you never told anyone you had a kid?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“No one ever asked,” You shrugged. 

“People don’t really talk to me because I'm CIA and I'm a woman. And I don’t speak more than 10 words of Spanish.”

“Yikes, we really are assholes,” Steve shook his head and you laughed.

“Well… You’re not that bad. And you have a wife that bakes cake, so you’re on my good side,” you joked and Steve chuckled. 

“But what is going on with Javier lately?”

“So you noticed it too? I kept asking him but he just shrugged it off.” 

“Maybe he needs to get laid,” you shrugged and Steve grinned.

“You offering?” You heard Javier’s voice behind you and you glared at Steve who tried not to laugh. Turning in your seat you looked up at the man in question. He grinned down at you.

“What if I told you I'm a lesbian?”

“That would only make it hotter,” he winked. You turned in your seat looking at Steve. “Okay I think he’s back.” You chuckled.

“If you need any help, just say the word,” Steve said as you walked down the hallway. It was Friday and you had just come home. One of the perks of living together with Javi and Steve was that you could use one car to get to work. 

“Will do, thanks!” You smiled. 

“Help with what?” Javi asked, standing next to you. You were now occupying the apartment across from him.

“I want to paint Eva’s room tomorrow. And let’s just say it’s not my biggest talent. Enrique used to do things like that. He actually planned the whole thing,” you smiled sadly looking at the floor before you breathed in deeply and looked at Javi. He had a strange expression on his face.

“What about I’ll come help and you cook that thing you have been cooking last weekend?” he rubbed his moustache.

“You can come over for some food without working, Javi,” you said right away. 

“You tell me that now? What is it you cooked there last week?”

“I’m trying to figure out how Enrique made his mac & cheese cause Eva loved it so much.” You said quietly. You could hear her laughter behind the door.

“Sorry. I… Fuck. I keep reminding you of his death,” Javier shook his head.

“You’ve been a big help. I mean it. And if you want to spend your Saturday painting my daughter's room, you are welcome to do it,” you shrugged. He smiled a little.

“Okay. See you tomorrow then.” 

One thing you noticed since moving was that Javier was a night owl. Of course you knew about his reputation but you didn’t judge him. He was an attractive man. If you were him you would use that to your advantage too. When Eva was in bed, and you were sitting in yours, a glass of wine in hand as you continued to work on files it was more than once that you heard just how much of a night owl Javier was. Either his women were very good actors or he really knew what he was doing.  

“Mommy?” You heard the sleepy voice of your daughter and looked up from your book. She was standing in your door, her hair a wild mess. You looked at the clock. Nearly 1 am.

“Bad dream?” You asked. You saw her nod.

“Come here,” you smiled.

She climbed under your covers, snuggling to your side as you closed your book, setting it down on the bedside table. 

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, stroking away her hair so you could look at her. She shook her head. 

“Okay,” you kissed her head.

It was a couple minutes later, you thought she was already asleep when she mumbled. 

“You are not gonna leave me too mommy, right?” she whispered. 

You gulped, pulling her closer towards you. 

“I’m never gonna leave you baby,” you promised, your heart breaking. 

She nodded. 

“I miss Uncle Ric,” she said. You fought the tears. 

“I miss him too,” you whispered. 

You didn’t know how long you laid in bed, watching your daughter fall asleep. You had questioned coming to Colombia from the beginning. 

You had been looking to change jobs for a while, and the job in Colombia was the only job the CIA had offered to various agents who had all declined it. Now that you were living here, you knew why. 

It was beyond dangerous to take your daughter to this country. The CIA took your safety serious, which could have to do with how your late husbands death, which happened on a mission the CIA fucked up. 

You could have asked the CIA for everything and they probably would have given it to you, just to keep you quiet. And maybe you should just have taken the money they offered you, buy a house on the beach, settle down with your daughter somewhere safe. 

But there was always a little part of you brain that wanted to…. Avenge the death of your husband who had died because he found himself in the middle of a cartel deal gone wrong in Mexico. 

You looked at your daughter, hoping that your selfish decision would not cost her more of her family in the future, before you let yourself finally drift of to sleep. 

There was a knock on the door just as you finished washing the dishes from breakfast. Eva was wearing a bright blue kids overall you had bought while getting supplies to paint, running past you to the door before she stopped and turned around. 

„Can I open Mommy?“ She asked. 

„You gotta ask whose there first,“ you remind her and she nodded.

„WHO’S THERE?“ She yelled loudly through the door and you chuckled. 

„Uh…. Javi?“ The man behind the door said, sounding it like a question. Eva looked at you and you nodded at her and she unlocked the door and opened it. 

Javi looked at Eva then at you before he stepped into your apartment. 

„Next time we need the codeword from you Javi,“ Eva said and he nodded seriously. 

„What is the codeword?“

„Pancakes,“ she whispered loudly.

„Good morning,“ he said a little awkward. Eva threw the door closed behind him, before she ran back towards her room. 

You shook your head amused.

„Good Morning Javi. Ready to spend time with a six year old girl who is obsessed with the jungle book?“ You asked, drying your hands, before you turned around to him. 

He was wearing some older looking jeans and a white, very tight, T-Shirt. 

„I have you know I have a lot of younger cousins. I think I can handle one girl,“ he said over confident and you nodded. 

„We will see,“ you said, a smile playing around your lips before you nodded with your head towards your daughters bedroom.

You stopped counting after the tenth time Eva insisted on replaying The Bare Necessities. It was a surprisingly fun day. 

You had to admit that you had underestimated Javier Peña.

You knew he was good at his job, but you didn’t know he was good with children. He explained every step he made to paint the walls to Eva and praised her when she began to paint herself. And he listened to every story your daughter told him. Never annoyed with her, always asking follow up questions. 

And once she brought out her little recorder and played the jungle book tape you even noticed him humming along to the song, making you smile as you watched them both together. 

They had both threw you out of her room so you could make dinner, leaving Javi and Eva to rearrange her room now that it was finished painting. 

You could hear them laugh and you found yourself smiling to yourself. You missed the sound of her laughter ever since Enrique died. 

You had put the Mac & cheese into the oven when Javier walked into your kitchen. 

He had paint all over his arms, his shirt too. There was a smile on his lips and you found yourself smiling back. 

„Enough Jungle book?“ You asked and he huffed a laugh. 

„For now. She’s rearranging her stuffed animals on her bed,“ he said, leaning with his hip at the kitchen counter, watching you. 

„Oh good. This will take her at least an hour. She’s a little perfectionist,“ you said. 

„That’s… That’s good…“ Javi hummed and you frowned, turning towards him. He had a hand on his hip, his other hand pulling at his lip as he looked at you. 

„Why?“ You asked. 

He seemed… nervous. His eyes focused on you, seemingly fighting with himself about something. 

„Javi…“ you started but he stepped towards you, one of his hands coming up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. Your breath hitched and you looked at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted. 

You were nervous, but not in a bad way. It was more… anticipation of what would happen next. 

„Can I kiss you?“ He asked. Instead of answering you nodded slowly, seeing him smile before he leaned in and kissed you softly. Your eyes slipped close and his lips found yours. You felt his other hand come to rest on the back of your head, and he slowly guided you so your back was against the counter as he slowly deepened the kiss. His tongue brushing over your lips until you parted them for him, sighing against his mouth. You rested one of your hands on his chest, your other hand in his hair as he moved his lips over yours. 

He rested his forehead against yours as he parted form your lips, both of you panting for air. 

„Wow,“ you whispered, opening your eyes. He was smiling at you. 

„Yeah,“ he whispered, kissing you again. 

You both jumped apart when you heard Eva call for you. You felt like a teenager who got caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing when you looked at Javi. You both chuckled at each other and you took a deep breath. 

„I should check on her,“ you said. He nodded. 

„Go. I’ll keep an eye on dinner,“ he said. You ran a hand through your hair, before you turned around, seeing Javi adjust himself out of the corner of your eyes. 

Date Nights were not something you ever had before. Yes you went on dates when you were married, but there was never a big fuss about it. 

Javier on the other hand, had taken you out every Friday night since you kissed. And it didn’t matter that you couldn’t openly date, not just because of work, but because the cartels had eyes everywhere, you were just happy to bet able to spend time with him outside of work.

Steve and Connie were happy to watch Eva for the evening, happy to have someone to play with their recently adopted daughter Olivia. You had been there in the house when Olivia was found. The scene still haunting your dreams. 

Javier and you remained strictly professional at work. Of course there was talk about how Javier hadn’t been to a brothels in some time, but no one ever dared to ask, because he still got his intel from the girls. 

You weren’t officially dating, but the both of you spend almost all your free time together. Things had become so domestic that even Eva seemed to realise things were changing. Not that you were hiding it from her. Javier had started to hang out at your place some more. Dinner for the three of you becoming a almost daily fixture whenever Javi was around and not working. 

There were secret touches around Eva at the beginning until she caught Javier kissing you goodbye one night. She had a million questions for the both of you, and you had to give it to Javi, he answered every single one of them until Eva was satisfied, allowing him to date her mommy which you found beyond adorable. 

You could never even entertain the thought of dating someone your daughter didn’t like. 

That your daughter approved of this new man in your life made the change that was coming even harder. 

Things in Colombia were getting more and more dangerous, leaving you to make the difficult decision to go back to the states. You had put in a request to get relocated which had been approved the week before. 

You and Eva would be going back tomorrow leaving you to have to start over again. It had actually been Javier who had brought his concerns in the first place about you and your daughters safety up. You knew that coming to Colombia as a woman working for the CIA would put a target on your back. But the cruelty of the cartels and above all Pablo Escobar were at an all time high and to hard to ignore much longer. 

So this Friday night would be your last date night with Javier for a while. He had taken you out to your favourite restaurant and held your hand all night, proud to show you off now that the both of you did not have to hide anymore. 

It was the first time he kissed you in a crowded room, unafraid of who was watching. Because he knew you would be safe and out of the country in less than 15 hours. 

And while the two of you had kissed for the first time almost three months before, you did not have sex yet. 

Something you meant to change tonight. 

You unlocked the door to your apartment, inviting him in. He had helped you put your whole life in boxes, promising to oversee them being shipped off to your new home. 

„You gonna tell me where you going yet?“ He asked as you made the both of you a drink. You bit your bottom lip as you turned around, handing him the glass. 

He knew you were going to Texas, he just didn’t know where. 

Javier took a sip while you took one too before you set the glass down on the kitchen table. 

„Laredo,“ you said and his eyes widened. 

„I’m transferring to the DEA in Laredo, Texas,“ you added, waiting for his reaction. You never really talked about the future. But Javier was a man you could see yourself growing old with. You knew he had his own demons, thinking he did not deserve to be loved. 

He had told you that he wanted to work on himself once he was finished with Colombia. 

„Say that again,“ he asked you. He was looking at you with warm eyes, a smile forming on his lips. 

„Eva and me will be moving to Laredo, Texas,“ you said, smiling yourself. 

„Where?“ He asked.

„I found a house. But it needs some work. So I talked to your Dad the last time he called to ask for some help to find a contractor and he offered us his guest room,“ you said shyly. Javi laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

He sat the glass down and walked to you, his hands crossing on your lower back, his chest against yours. 

„You did this all behind my back?“ He asked. You nodded. 

„Surprise?“ You asked and he kissed you. 

„You gonna be on our farm?“

„Eva is already looking forward to learn how to ride a horse,“ you nodded. 

„Fuck, she’s gonna have my Dad wrapped around her little finger in no time,“ he chuckled.

„Just like she has you?“ You asked and cried out in laughter as he dinged his fingers into your side, making you giggle. 

„Rude,“ he said. 

„But true,“ you shrugged and he kissed you again. 

„I’m not complaining,“ he mumbled against your lips. You sighed as his lips slowly kissed down your jaw and then your neck. 

„Javi,“ you gasped and he hummed against your skin. 

„Please take me to bed,“ you whispered and he looked up at you. 

„Are you asking me…“

„Yeah…“ you nodded, both of your hands resting against his chest. He took a deep breath. 

„I need words,“ he clarified and you got on your tiptoes. 

„I wanna have sex with you Javier,“ you whispered against his ear.

He took his time undressing you, once you made it to your bedroom. His lips following a path of every inch of skin he revealed. When you were standing in just your underwear in front of him before he kissed you, mumbling against your lips how beautiful you were, before he helped you strip him off his clothes. 

You gulped when you saw his cock for the first time, not really surprised at the lack of underwear on his side. Biting your lip you looked up at him, seeing him wink at you before he kissed you again. 

He laid you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours. 

You moaned when you felt his weight on top of you, his arms resting next to your head to keep him hovering above you. You felt him rub against you, his cock rubbing against your stomach, making you both groan. 

He slowly kissed down your body. 

Your neck.

Your collarbone. 

Right between your breasts. He looked up at you then a question in his eyes. You arched your back and he smiled as he reached around and unhooked your bra, slowly pulling it down your shoulders until he could pull it off. 

„Beautiful,“ he hummed, his lips kissing the top of each breast before he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimpered, your back arching again, your hands playing with his hair to keep him close. 

He moaned against your skin, his tongue playing with your now hard nipple inside his mouth. 

„Javi,“ you moaned softly and  he released your nipple. 

„Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,“ he grinned and you felt yourself flush, giving him a shy smile. 

„I wanna taste you,“ he said, kissing your other breast. 

„Mhhh,“ you hummed.

His lips wandered down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button with a grin before he kissed right above your panty line. 

You released a shaky breath and he smiled at you. 

„Can I take this off?“ He asked. You nodded, biting your lip. His fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties and he kneeled between your legs pulling them down. Both of his hand ran up your thigh as he leaned back down, his face resting just above your pussy. 

„You’re so wet,“ he said in wonder and you smiled. 

„Just for you.“

He hummed before his face lowered and his lips kissed just above your clit. He inhaled deeply, releasing a groan. 

„Gonna miss this when you’re gone,“ he whispered and you sighed. 

„Guess you have to come home to me quickly then,“ you said and he smiled as he looked up at you. 

„I like the sound of that,“ he said.

„What?“ You asked. 

„Coming home to you,“ he whispered before he licked into you. You grabbed the bedsheet beneath you as he began to eat you out, parting your legs even further. His big hands kept you in place while he devoured you. His tongue playing with your clit before it dipped down and into you. 

„Javi please…“ you moaned.

„Please what?“ He asked.

„Make me cum?“ You begged and he chuckled. 

„Already begging for me….“ He teased and you lightly kicked him in his side, making him chuckle before he leaned back in, eating you out until you were moaning his name, your legs shaking in his hold. He kissed your pussy after you calmed down and have you a proud grin and he leaned back above you, his lips finding yours to give you a deep kiss where you could taste yourself. 

You angled one leg behind him, pushing him down against you. 

„Fuck me, Javi. I want you inside of me,“ you mumbled against his lips.

„Fuck,“ he cursed. He grabbed his cock, lining himself up against your pussy. 

You both moaned when he slowly sank into you. Inch by inch filling you smoothly until his whole cock was inside of you, filling you perfectly. His forehead came to rest against yours and you wiggled your hips, making him groan. 

„Fuck…. Please give me a moment…“ he groaned and you smiled, pecking his lips. He kissed you slow but deep. Licking into your mouth. 

You made out for a while before he slowly bottomed out and pushed back into you, keeping a slow pace. 

„Feels fucking perfect, baby,“ he moaned against your lips, fucking you deeply. 

You wrapped both of your legs around him, your hands on his back and in his hair. 

„Shit I’m not gonna last, feels so good, he groaned and you felt one of his hands slip between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. 

„I want you to cum with me,“ he said and began to circle your clit while he fucked faster into you. 

„Javi,“ you whimpered, arching your back. His head dipped down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulled your nipple between his teeth, pulling it playfully and your whole body shuddered as your orgasm washed over you, whimpering beneath him just as he twitched and came deep inside of you. 

You sighed, your fingers brushing through his hair as he kissed you, both of you smiling against each others lips. 

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each others embrace before he slowly pulled out of you, pecking your lips. He went to the bathroom to clean himself off, bringing a washcloth to clean you too. 

„I’m gonna get Eva from Steve and Connie’s,“ he mumbled against your lips and you nodded dreamily at him, watching him as he got dressed. 

You got into your bathrobe and walked out of your bedroom just as Javi walked back into your apartment, a sleeping Eva in his arms. 

Smiling at him you opened the door to her bedroom for him, watching him as he put her carefully into her bed. He had been doing this since the first date night, and it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect Javi fit into your life. 

He kissed her forehead before he walked towards you, taking your hand to lead you back into your bedroom. 

You knew you had to sleep but as you watched Javi strip out of his clothes and get into bed with you you were overcome with a sadness, knowing that his was the last time you would see him for a while. 

You laid in bed, facing each other. 

„I love you,“ you whispered, wanting him to hear the words before you leave. 

He gave you a soft smile before he slipped closer towards you, his nose brushing over yours. 

„I love you too,“ he whispered back and kissed you. 

Both of you finding close to no sleep until it was time to get ready to leave for the airport the next morning. 

„Bye Javi,“ Eva sobbed as Javi held her in his arms the next morning. She was clinging to him like a koala, clutching his shirt in her tiny fists. He was still holding your hand.

Javi had gotten breakfast while you got Eva ready before he drove you both to the airport.

You saw him take a shaky breath, kissing her hair. 

„I’m gonna miss you,“ she mumbled and you felt tears stinging in the corner of your eyes. 

„I’m gonna miss you and your mom too. So much,“ Javi whispered, pulling you closer. He let go of your hand to put his arm around you, pulling you into the hug. 

„You have to fight the bad guys. And then you can come live with us all the time,“ Eva mumbled and Javi looked at you. You gave him a watery smile.

„I’ll do my best. Be good for your mommy,“ he said and you saw her nod, before he slowly let her down. She hugged your side and you wrapped your arm around her. 

„Be safe,“ you whispered looking up at him. 

„I will,“ he promised before he kissed you softly. 

„I love you,“ you said and he smiled, a tear now running down his cheek. 

„I love you, too,“ he kissed you again.

#my fic #javier peña #Javier Peña x fem reader #Pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #narcos #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[taahko]

I just found your blog today can you please explain or point out a post that explains the MASH timeloop thing? I love the show but I've never heard anyone talk abt it that way before

oh yay hurray ive been waiting for an excuse to talk about this lmao sorry this is long

ok so basically maeve (my gf) and i started watching mash for the first time about a month ago and we started joking about it being like the characters were stuck in a time loop mostly because the same basic episode format is repeated over and over, because it's a sitcom from the 70s and the episodes arent meant to be watched en masse where you can start noticing all the little repetitions and plot holes and inconsistencies that naturally occur in longform tv

but then i started to pay attention to the dates being mentioned in the show - famously the korean war never technically ended, but american troops were involved in active on the ground fighting between 1950 and 1953, so the entire 11 seasons of mash have to be squeezed into that three year period. with 251 episodes occurring within 1,129 days, that gives every episode about 4.5 days of real time. so it works right? no time loop right? well wait a sec

for the first 5 seasons or so of mash they give very consistent dates about when things are happening. for example, bj arrives in korea in september of 1952, at the start of season 4. colonel potter arrives about a week after him, and talks about how he has 18 months left before his retirement. that gives us about 7 months for the shows final 7 seasons to take place in, meaning that by the episode 'point of view' in season 7 we should be around december of 1952. in that episode the pov character starts writing a letter home and in the corner he writes the date:

september of 1951. ok, could be that this episode isn't meant to take place in the regular timeline of the season - maybe for some reason its just like, a random flashback episode. but bj, charles, and potter are all present, even though none of them got to korea until 1952. now i KNOW that this is not like, the True Hidden Secret Lore of MASH, this is the writers realizing they were running out of road and turning back the clock a bit to accommodate for how long the show was running on. but play in my time loop space with me please

more talking points:

consistent jokes about time zones and how difficult it is to call the states because "our today is their yesterday but if you call them now it might not reach them until our tomorrow and by that point our yesterday will be their today"

hawkeye's increasing mania over the seasons and his conviction that the war will never end, comparing the camp to dante's inferno multiple times. maeve once pointed out that the closer hawkeye comes to realizing that he's trapped in a time loop the closer he gets to being institutionalized - and what does the series finale cold open onto ? hawkeye in a mental institution. the only way out is to lose yourself etc. sidenote frank also escaped the time loop by going insane and getting institutionalized

in a war for all seasons bj potter and charles are all present at the 1951 new years party as well as the 1952 new years party

there are three christmas episodes, two of which bj is present for even though he should only have spent one christmas in korea

details of people's families and lives shift around - sometimes potter's got multiple grandchildren, sometimes he only has one, sometimes its a girl, sometimes its a boy, sometimes she's 5, sometimes he's 2

we're not the first people to talk about this either, here's a good video compilation posted a couple yrs ago of time loop moments

overall ive been using the time loop thesis to add another layer to my mash viewing experience. it increases the already present sense of constant dread, anger, frustration, and disgust with their situation that the characters feel, plus it feels like a very poignant take on the united states' constant warmongering and violent existence. it really never ends, it just goes on an on. the future's been canceled by the war department- we're just gonna replay the past.

#shut up aggie #mash #might add more to this later

[hollytoshaw]

exploring europe | harry lewis

summary: y/n & harry travel around europe together face claim: dua lipa

word count (minus the instagram posts) : 2.5k

a/n: hi!!! this is a bit of a longer instagram au with short blurbs following each instragram post . hope you enjoy! also please send in any requests, i'll be more than happy to do them <3

more stuff by me : masterlist

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first stop: ireland

liked by vikkstagram and 398,093 others! y/n_username guinness and a couple of goats ☘️🇮🇪 tagged wroetoshaw

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freyanightingale cool girl 😘

wroetoshaw don't pretend you enjoyed the guinness

calfreezy harry necking pints, shocker

vikkstagram are they circulr sunglasses i spot in the first pic? ↳ y/n_username ofc, the only glasses i wear!!!

faithlouiseak can't believe you're gone for a month

ynw2slove harry and the goat !!!! 🥺

sidemanxixfan too many goats in one photo dump

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In the rolling green hills of the Irish countryside, where the air was crisp and the scent of flowers hung in the air, Harry and Y/N found themselves on a mission to find the perfect pint of Guinness. It was the third day into their stop-off in Ireland, and the pair had landed themselves in the middle of nowhere.

''Just get your phone out and look on maps; there's gotta be a pub around here somewhere,' Harry sighed. 'I mean, we're in Ireland of all places,''

Y/N rolled her eyes. They'd been walking for over twenty minutes with no luck—Harry mumbling about having a feeling he knew where he was despite the fact he had never been to this part of Ireland. It must have been his pro-Geoguesser skills talking, but right now those skills were useless and they were lost. 

''I've got no service, H. We're in the back end of nowhere.'' Y/N laughed, watching as the boy looked around the endless green fields, not a house or person other than the two of them in sight, just a few cows and sheep.

''Alright, well, trust me,'' he said clapping his hands together. ''I think 5 more minutes walking this way and we'll find something.''

5 minutes turned to 10, and 10 turned to 20, but eventually, they found themselves wandering into a quaint pub nestled at the edge of the smallest town either of them had ever seen. Harry was thrilled, gloating at the fact that he had managed to get them here with no directions, leaving out the point in which he had to thumb a random car down and ask the person driving where the closest town was. Y/N kept her mouth shut, letting him have his moment.

So their mission to find the perfect pint continued, Harry ordering them two pints of Guinness and two packets of Tayto (Irish crisps), eager to partake in this quintessential Irish tradition.

''You know, this pint is going to blow your mind.' Harry spoke, placing a glass and coaster in front of his lover.

''Oh, I bet'' she laughed in response, rolling her eyes when he wasn't looking. ''What'd you say we just neck it? Make it a competition?''

Harry narrowed his eyes, staring at her with a look that said, 'as if you think you could beat me necking a pint' without actually saying it.

''Come on, it'll be fun,'' Y/N said, opening her bag of crisps.

''Alright, doll, but don't be complaining when I annihilate you'' stopping to point at her ''and this pint of Guinness.'' Harry spoke and Y/N sent him a playful eyeroll back in return.

''3''

''2''

''1''

''Cheers,'' they both said, clinking their glasses together and then tapping the bottom of the glass on the table, a drinking tradition they always did whenever they necked their drinks. 

The creamy foam tickled their lips, dancing on their tongues as they tilted their heads back in hopes of downing the liquid. While drinking, they traded friendly banter and teasing glances, Harry kicking Y/N's leg under the table in hopes that she'd get distracted.

What felt like an eternity was probably only a few seconds for the pair. In the end, it was Y/N who emerged victorious, hitting her glass down on the table before Harry could finish his own.

''Ha!'' Y/N laughed as Harry placed his glass on the table not long after her. ''Better luck next time, babe.''

''I let you win that, by the way,'' he said, taking a crisp from the opened packet on the table.

''Oh, shut up, you're such a sore loser, H.'' Y/N replied, laughing as Harry failed to meet her eye. One thing Y/N loved but also hated about Harry was that he was a terrible loser when it came to accepting defeat, and as much as she knew best to not wind him up even further, she found it hard to conceal her triumph.

''How about another round then?' She grinned at the moody boy across from her and said, ''Maybe I'll let you win this time.''

...

second stop: france

liked by behzingagram and 398,093 others! y/n_username mickey and minnie in disneyland 🇫🇷 tagged wroetoshaw

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calfreezy this is actually quite cute

ksi bring me back a present from disney pls 😁

faithlouiseak aww enjoy

taliamar missing you already 🥺

theburntchip course harry's got the minnie ears on

behzingagram harry looking fire with that headband on

wroetoshaw ❤️

w2sfan2 as if y/n's managed to drag harry to disneyland

sidemanxixfan bet harry begged for the minnie ears

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The second stop on Harry and Y/N's travels was France, and the pair had found themselves in Disneyland Paris. Harry wasn't necessarily a massive Disney fan, nor was Y/N, but she had said she wanted to go at least once in her life, and Harry was not one to ever say no to his girl.

So the pair found themselves in the heart of Disneyland, surrounded by the charm of Main Street, stumbling upon a little photo booth adorned with twinkling lights and colourful decorations.

"Look, Harry. A photo booth!" Y/N exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ''Let's get some pictures!''

Harry grinned, following her, and she pulled his arm, his heart happy that she was happy.

They stepped inside the booth, greeted by an array of playful props—oversized sunglasses, feather boas, and, most importantly, Minnie and Mickey headbands adorned with sparkling sequins.

"Oh my god,'' Y/N said, reaching for a pair of Mickey ears and placing them on her head. ''Here, you take the Minnie ones.''

Harry laughed, taking the pair of Minnie ears for himself. "Hope these fit on my big head.''

With giggles of delight, they struck playful poses for the camera, their laughter echoing in the small booth as they captured memories that would last a lifetime.

As the flash illuminated the space, Y/N leaned in close to Harry, her eyes shining with happiness. "I love this, H. It's like we're teens again, just having fun together."

Harry smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Reminds me of that shitty little photo booth we did back in Guernsey the first time you came to visit.''

They soon emerged from the photo booth, their cheeks flushed with excitement and their smiles reaching from ear to ear as they collected their pictures.

Looking at the pictures, the pair laughed at one another's silly poses, both agreeing it would look perfect stuck on their fridge with a magnet back in their London flat.

'Definitely worth the 12 euros.''

...

third stop : the netherlands

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by ksi and 420,924 others! y/n_username a few days in dam 🇳🇱 tagged wroetoshaw

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chrismd10 hope he fell off his bike

behzingagram what's in those cookies lads 👀

ynw2slover amsterDAMN harry is so fit

sidemenfan1 gorgeous in the first pic

tobjizzle enjoy guys 💙💙💙

theburntchip hope harry wasn't as drunk as he was when he went dam with the fellas ↳ y/n_username he was even worse😭

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The third stop of their trip around Europe was the Netherlands. The pair had found themselves in the heart of Amsterdam, where the streets buzzed with energy and the scent of freshly baked stroopwafels wafted through the air.

Amsterdam was always quite nostalgic for Harry and Y/N. It was one of their favourite places to visit, not just with the two of them but also with their friends. They knew all the good spots to go, the best bars, restaurants and especially what cafes served the best weed brownies.

''First night in Amsterdam, what'd you say we start with a brownie?'' Harry questioned, knowing that this would trigger a long night ahead of them.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, knowing what the pair were like when they were high, but ultimately her curiosity was piqued by the suggestion. "Oh, I don't know, Harry. Isn't it a bit early?"

Harry shrugged, taking her hand in his. "Come on, Y/N. When has that ever stopped us? Plus, we're in Amsterdam; where else are we gonna get the chance to get stoned off a shitty little brownie?”

With a nervous laugh, Y/N relented, allowing Harry to lead her into a cosy cafe that the pair had visited a few years prior. They ordered two brownies and two cans of Diet Coke and found a quiet corner to sit and indulge.

As they took their first bites, the rich, chocolaty flavour melted on their tongues, leaving behind a lingering warmth that spread through their bodies.

Y/N looked at Harry, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Do you feel anything yet?"

Harry shook his head, his expression uncertain. "Not yet, silly. Takes a while to kick in. ."

As they waited, Y/N and Harry exchanged nervous glances, their hearts pounding with anticipation. The pair had gone on a booze boat earlier that day and were only just feeling like the alcohol was wearing off—perhaps the two mixed together wasn't a great combination.

More time passed and suddenly , a wave of laughter overcame Y/N, and her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Harry, I think it's starting to work."

Harry chuckled, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over him, his eyes looking larger and puffier than usual. "You're right, love. I can feel it too."

Their laughter filled the cafe, drawing amused glances from the other customers as Y/N and Harry lost themselves in the joy of the moment.

As they sat together, hand in hand, Harry and Y/N realized that sometimes the best adventures were the ones shared with the person you loved most, especially when they ended in fits of laughter and memories that would last a lifetime.

''There's no one else I'd rather get completely baked with.''

...

fourth stop: stockholm, sweden

liked by wroetoshaw and 410,293 others! y/n_username celebrating midsummer in 🇸🇪 tagged: wroetoshaw

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freyanightingale pretty girl

wroetoshaw i'm still sneezing from all the flowers

calfreezy bog suits the flower crown

chrismd10 bog looking cute? can't believe it

faithlouiseak come home i miss you 😭 ↳ y/n_username only a few more weeks xxx

ynw2slover omg harry in the last pic?????? 🤤

sidemanxixfan mum and dad being adorable as per usual

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The next stop for the pair was the picturesque countryside of Sweden, where the summer sun danced on the fields of flowers and the air was sweet with the scent of blooming blossoms. 

Unknown to Harry and Y/N when booking the trip, they found that the days of their stay aligned with the midsummer festivities that Sweden had to offer. Y/N, with her bright eyes and infectious laughter, eagerly anticipated the festival, whereas Harry was less enthused. 

As they joined the festivities in the village square, Y/N couldn't contain her excitement. "This is so good, H. It'll be such a laugh later, making flower crowns and dancing around the Maypole.'' 

Harry forced a smile, but inwardly, he cringed at the thought of wearing a flower crown. While Harry was a boy most definitely secure in himself, the thought of a few flowers stuck to his hair made him feel a bit daft. "Yeah, it's great, Y/N. But do we really have to wear those flower crowns?"

Y/N eyes widened in surprise. "Of course we do, H! I've seen you wear questionable things over the years; surely a flower crown isn't where you draw the line?'' 

Reluctantly, Harry followed Y'N to the flower crown-making station, ultimately knowing that she was right and he had just been silly. They were greeted by a table overflowing with colourful blooms and delicate ribbons.

As Y/N eagerly began crafting her crown, Harry hesitated once more, feeling out of place amidst the sea of flowers. "I don't know, doll. I feel silly wearing this."

She laughed, gently placing a crown of pink and red roses on his head. "Oh, stop it, you look lovely! Trust me, everyone wears them. It's part of the fun."

Harry grumbled under his breath. The thought of the boys slating him in the group chat once they got a hold of a picture of him wearing the flowers, was in the back of his mind. Pushing the thought away, he decided to go along with it for Y/N sake, knowing all the boys had probably done a lot worse to please their missus. As they joined the other villagers in dancing around the Maypole, Harry felt him ease into the festivities a bit more, feeling comfortable with Y/N's reassuring grip on his hand. 

The music played, and laughter filled the air and he found himself getting caught up in the joy of the moment. He twirled Y/N around the dance floor, the flower crown long forgotten as they lost themselves in the magic of Midsummer.

''Guess I don't look that daft after all.'' he shouted over the crowd. 

The music and dancing continued until the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky blazed with hues of orange and yellow, Harry realized that sometimes embracing tradition meant embracing the ones you loved—even if it meant wearing a what he had once described as a 'silly flower crown'. And as he looked at Y/N, her eyes shining with happiness, he knew that celebrating Midsummer with her was a memory he would cherish forever.

...

fifth stop : greece

liked by ksi and 420,924 others! y/n_username aye aye captain! 🇬🇷 tagged wroetoshaw

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behzingagram cute little sailor @wroetoshaw

ynw2slover you are so stunning!!!!

sidemenfan1 greece looks so pretty

theburntchip me and sabina were there the other week, unreal place ↳ y/n_username my favourite place i've been so far

wroetoshaw fit ↳ y/n_username me or you? ↳ wroetoshaw me obviously

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Greece was the next place that Harry and Y/N had found themselves on their travels. Swimming in the tranquil waters of the Aegean Sea, Harry and Y/N set off on a boating adventure, hearts light and bellies full from the fruit that they had devoured at breakfast. 

As they cruised along the shimmering surface of the water, Harry's playful antics grew more and more daring, fueled by the warmth of the sun and one too many shots of Ouzo. 

''Y/N, prepare to be amazed!'' he exclaimed, his voice slurred with intoxication as he stood on the edge of the boat, a grin on his face.

''What are you playing at now?'' Y/N rolled her eyes, accustomed to Harry's antics. 

With a flourish, Harry announced his intention to perform a daring flip off the side of the boat—a feat he was certain would impress Y/N. 

"Get your camera out, this’ll go viral!" Harry declared, his confidence buoyed by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

Reluctantly, she reached for her phone, trying to suppress a giggle as she aimed the camera at her swaying boyfriend.

But as Harry prepared to launch himself into the air, his balance faltered, and he stumbled awkwardly before falling unceremoniously into the water with a loud splash.

She burst into laughter, unable to contain her amusement, as she watched Harry emerge from the water, sputtering and coughing.

"You've had an absolute stinker," Y/N teased, her laughter echoing across the lake.

Harry sheepishly climbed back onto the boat, his pride wounded but his spirits still high. "A proper howler," he replied, trying to save face as he joined Y/N in laughter.

As they continued their boating adventure, Harry's failed flip became the stuff of a legend, a story they would retell for years to come, a moment that Y/N would be forever grateful she got on camera.

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last stop: iceland

liked by behzingagram and 398,093 others! y/n_username ice ice baby 🇮🇸 tagged wroetoshaw

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calfreezy sick pictures

faithlouiseak omg only a few more days and you're home 🥺 ↳ y/n_username can't wait to see your face!

taliamar very aesthetic

theburntchip got me wanting to book a trip to iceland asap

wroetoshaw ❤️

w2sfan2 kinda sad the europe travels are over

sidemanxixfan no more europe content i'm emotional

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The last stop on their travels was Iceland, where bubbling geysers and towering waterfalls painted the landscape in hues of wonder. It was their final day of their holiday, and Harry and Y/N found them immersed in the tranquilly of the Blue Lagoon. 

As they waded into the warm, mineral-rich waters, Y/N let out a contented sigh, her worries melting away with each gentle ripple.

"This has been amazing, Harry," Y/N said, her voice filled with awe as she gazed around at the ethereal beauty of their surroundings. ''The best few weeks of my life, I think.''

Harry smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection, as he reached for Y/N's hand, admiring the black swimsuit that clothed her body. "Glad we picked Iceland as our last spot, best way to end it I think.”

They floated together in blissful silence, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water against the rocky shore. And as the night sky darkened, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness that their holiday was coming to an end.

"I wish we could stay here forever," Y/N whispered, her voice tinged with longing. ''Gonna miss it being just us.''

Harry squeezed her hand, his gaze soft with understanding. "Me too, lovely.“ he paused moving his other hand to graze over her cheek. “But we'll do it again some time soon, I promise. Anytime I've got a few days free on the calendar, they're all for you.''

Y/N smiled, holding out her pinky finger and latching it on to his. "Promise.”

With a promise made, they watched the sun set over the horizon, holding each other close, talking about the precious moments they had shared over the last few weeks—moments filled with love, laughter, and obscene amounts of alcohol. Moments they would remember forever.

...

wroetoshaw posted an instagram story!

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hollytoshaw: thanks for reading!!! this is my favourite instagram au i've done so far so i hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as i did making it <3333 pls send requests to my inbox. thanks for all the love so far <333

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader