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mermaidgirl30 · 7 hours

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✨Javi’s Playground✨

A/N: Ahhh I’ve been wanting to write a Javi one shot for a while, and I finally got the inspiration after listening to “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me come up with a name and beta read so I didn’t chicken out and not post 😘 This is my first time writing Javi, so I’d like as much feedback as I can get 🥰 I tried my best with the Spanish translations.

Summary: Javi decides to blow off some steam at the strip club, but he doesn’t intend to attempt to take one of the dancers home with him.

Pairing: Javier Pena x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Tags: smut, flirting, Javi goes to a strip club, alcohol, smoking, unprotected p in v, oral, Narcos era, reader is a stripper, reader has long hair, some Spanish (translations at bottom of doc)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The glow of the amber lights swirl above his head as a crystal disco ball spins slowly, throwing its sparkly essence into the crowded strip club. This isn’t his normal place, Paradise Cove. It’s only a distraction, a secret alcove to let go of any thoughts of drug lords, innocent bloodshed, Pablo Escobar, or any traces of misery he’s been holding on to over the past treacherous year. This was a place for forgetting, relaxing the mind, indulging in mere fantasies he could only wish to grasp his torn hands around. So he’d drink, smoke, and indulge in beautiful women in peace on this lonely Friday evening.

The red walls are smeared with flecks of sparkles, and the atmosphere is bursting with energy and dim lighting. The cool glass of amber whiskey sits in his hand as he gulps down another swig, letting the burn coat his insides as he flicks the small lighter and lights up another Marlboro cigarette. He lets the smoke surround him, fogging his vision as he inhales the nicotine and lets it sit there dwindling around him in a blur. Just for a couple of seconds, just enough to take the edge off of his growing migraine.

He throws his head back and exhales, blowing the smoke out as the music changes over to a tune he knows. “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground starts to play from the blaring speakers, the song slowly slipping through his ears as he sits up just a little straighter in the black leather chair.

The crowd hollers when the next girl takes the stage, low whistles reverberating off the side mahogany tables as the volume of the music picks up. He doesn’t realize what they’re all making a fuss about until he looks up and sees you. The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Esplendida.

You’re so radiant, the way you strut across the stage in your crystal clear stiletto high heels as you spin in slow motion, running your fingers through your thick, long curls as you look over your shoulder and flirt with the crowd. Your legs are so long, the curve of your thighs begging to be touched as you sway your hips side to side and get lost in the song.

And then there she was, in platform double suede. Yeah, there she was. Like disco lemonade.

He can’t help but grip the damp glass in his hands a little too tight as he spreads his legs wide and relaxes into the plush leather, his eyes glued to you as you slide down the pole gracefully. He wets his lips as his tongue glides across his bottom lip, his cigarette burning his flared nostrils as he oogles the way you please the crowd with every single move you make across the reflective stage.

He watches the way you push the swell of your breasts up with your delicate hands, eyes the tiny black lingerie set that barely covers your porcelain skin, assesses the way the lacy thong skims across the curve of your hips, and nearly drowns on his sip of bubbling whiskey as you bend down and show off the thick globes of your ass.

Javi sets the half empty glass of alcohol down beside him on the little sturdy table and grabs his denim clad knee as he sinks his nails into the fabric, trying to hold himself together as he listens to the track play through the massive club, watching the way you keep turning and finding his searing gaze.

I smell sex and candy here. Who’s that lounging in my chair? Who’s that casting devious stares in my direction? Mama, this surely is a dream.

His brown eyes blow wide every time you turn and wink his way, casually flirting as you flip your hair and bite your lower lip, sending him spiraling as he feels the blood rush to his cock in his tight jeans, feeling just how hard he is now as his thick cock presses into the metal of the zipper. It’s like you know what you’re doing, sparkling eyes penetrating his gaze as you flirtatiously bat your long mascara coated eyelashes and eye fuck him from the glowing stage, making sure he’s getting exactly what he came her for. To feel good, to indulge in his fantasies, to make him think you want him. But customers don’t get to take strippers home. That’s not how this business works, not how it’s supposed to run, unless…

You slide slowly down the metal pole, ending up on the floor of the lit up stage as you spread your legs wide and tease him just a little as you play with the straps of your panties and press your heels into the floor, giving him a view that just about takes him out. He leans his elbows against his knees, rakes a hand through his thick mustache as he groans into the palm of his hand while sweat sticks to his tanned forehead.

He loves the view that’s on display, loves the outline of your pussy as he swears he can see wetness pooling there in between your legs while you sit there and tease him with the biggest smirk on your face he’s ever seen in his life. Those red, plump lips, those glistening thighs that deserve to be kissed, that pulsing core that begs to be lapped up. He can see it now, you splayed out on his bed while he fucks you deep, bottoming out as you scream his name, claw at his tanned skin as you beg for more. He’d take care of you. God he would. And fuck does he want to. Gravemente.

He can feel the precum sliding against his thick length, can feel just how badly he wants to palm himself through his tight denim as he watches you fall apart on the stage before him. At this point he has no restraint, can barely sit here and watch as you start to crawl on your hands and knees toward him, hypnotizing eyes that lock on his as he leans forward and unfastens the black tie that clings to his button-up white collared shirt.

His eyebrows furrow, lips parting unbelievably as you curl your finger and beckon him to come to the side of the stage, your gaze flicking over his figure as he prays you don’t see the erection that’s begging for some kind of release that’d involve hands, or maybe a mouth, a warm tongue…

He takes another drag of the sweet nicotine and pushes himself out of the leather chair, slowly trudging up to you as he lets his eyes trail generously over your perfect body. When he finally makes it over to the end of the glossy stage, he sees just how beautiful your eyes really are, eyes that were just eye fucking him seconds ago, eyes he’d love to gaze into while he cants his hips against yours roughly. Eyes he could lost in, swim in.

You smirk his way, letting your hands run through your tousled curls as you flutter thick eyelashes up at him. He digs into the pit of his denim pocket and pulls out a crisp twenty dollar bill as he cautiously slides it inside the lace of your push-up bra, his fingertips grazing the edge of one of your perky breasts as he groans in response. Your skin is so soft, he thinks what you have underneath the lace will be even softer, divine, delicious.

You bite your bottom lip flirtatiously and play with the end of his loose tie, letting the silk slip through your fingertips as he watches in a blissed out daze. You could’ve chosen anyone to target, could’ve had attention from any of the sleazy men in this nightclub, but you chose him. The one with the flecks of honey eyes, the one that couldn’t keep his eyes off you for one second, the handsome stranger who must’ve been new to this place.

“You new here?” you ask curiously as you eye his stance, watching the way his eyes seem to light with burning fire every time he even dares to look your way.

“Been here once or twice before, but this is the first time I’m seeing you, hermosa.” He lets his dark eyes slide down your body, a smirk curling across his plush lips as he leans in closer, until you can smell the tinge of nicotine lacing through his taste buds. “You sure look good up on that stage, amar. Prettiest thing I’ve seen in a city like San Francisco.”

“Oh? You like what you see?” you blush as you hang your legs off the end of the stage, just enough to brush his thighs as you feel how strong they are.

“Oh, I like what I see alright. Follando perfecta.”

You feel your cheeks burn bright red, feel your thighs clench up as you see how thick his fingers are, how dark and ravenous his eyes look, how hard he is underneath the fabric of his tight jeans. You don’t ever get this wound up about customers, but something about well dressed, smoldering men makes you want to lose all dignity and throw yourself at him. He must be so good in bed. With the way he’s staring at you, all hot and bothered, he may as well just carry you out of this club. Even if it’s technically against the rules.

“What’s your name, handsome?” you ask as you brush your heels against the side of his ankles and watch him tense up under your touch.

“Javier. Just call me Javi for short, though. And yours, hermosa?” You tell him your name, your real name, not your stripper name, even if that’s against the rules, too. You clearly don’t care about any fucking rules at this point.

“Ahh, that’s a gorgeous name. Telling me your real name, yeah? Aren’t you a little rule breaker,” he teases as he cocks up a thick eyebrow and slides his thumb over his lips as he brushes against his thick mustache. You wonder what it’d feel like with his mouth covering your core, his mustache brushing over your swollen clit as he licks and licks until you come apart on his large tongue.

You pull yourself out of ridiculous wet fantasies and watch the smoke fall off his tongue. “I live to break rules,” you tease as you pull him closer, catching the end of his black tie as he’s so close now that you can see the embers of brown flecks scatter across his dark eyes. He’s so handsome, you think you want to go home with him.

“That right, hermosa?” he asks as he takes another long drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke away from your face as that smug smirk still encases his playful teasing.

“That’s right,” you giggle as you gently curl your fingers over the wrist that holds the burning cigarette.

He watches you carefully, eyes full of trouble as he puffs out a breath and fills your nostrils with the stench of whiskey and nicotine. “What do you say, hermosa? Wanna take a tour of my bedroom tonight?”

You carefully snag his lit cigarette from his outstretched hand and slide it in between your crimson lips, taking a slow drag of the cigarette as he watches you with dark, wide eyes and parted lips that shine with the gleam of amber colored whiskey. You gently blow out the smoke in his face and lean forward as you wrap your manicured fingers around his loosened tie. “You can give me money, yes, but what else? I have plenty of money. What is it that you want, handsome?”

He grabs the cigarette from your open hand and takes a whiff of the nicotine, letting it blow right back into your face as you smell whiskey, smoke, and trouble fill your lungs.

“Te deseo…” He says it slowly, meticulously like it’s the most sensual thing he’s ever said to a woman before. You don’t know what it means, but it damn sure sounds like you need to say yes.

Your eyebrows raise as you smile wide his way. “I don’t speak Spanish, handsome. But I think I want to say yes. Wanna indulge me in what exactly it is you want?”

He takes another slow drag of his cigarette as he smirks your way. “I want you, hermosa. In my bed, underneath my body, so I can fuck you fast and hard. Wanna rip off that lace and devour your sweet pussy until I have you coming apart on my tongue. Wanna make love to the beauty that stole my heart away tonight.”

Your breath hitches as you gasp out of breath, not realizing you clutched onto his leather belt and clenched your sticky thighs together as slick pools warmly in your lace. You should’ve known he was a handsome menace the first moment you saw him sitting there with his glass of cold whiskey and lit up cigarette. You should’ve fucking guessed.

His body is now too close to yours, chest pressed against yours as you stand shakily off the stage and feel just how bad he wants you through the fabric of his tight jeans. You can see that way his dark eyes flick over yours, feel the heavy breaths coming from his broad chest, smell the stench of trouble and nicotine lacing around your wrists as he slowly grabs a strand of hair and whispers your name into the shell of your ear.

It’s almost too much, almost enough to get you fired right on the spot until the music suddenly changes to a Rhianna song, signaling it was time for the next dancer to come out. You abruptly pull away from him as you feel the tension sit thick in the air, almost like a fog takes over and you can’t see anything clearly anymore.

It’s your time to go, to mingle with other clients, and he knows that, you can see it in the understanding of those big chocolate eyes that stare adamantly at you. You give him a flirtatious wave and brush up against his large arm as you whisper up to him, “I get off in an hour. Meet me in the back.”

He watches you saunter off, half smiling as he realizes he got the girl. He never misses, almost never gets turned down, but this one he might want to see again. He can already tell he’ll want you to stick around, maybe even make you his. Maybe he won’t have to walk this lonely, overbearing life alone anymore. Maybe…. just maybe you’ll stay. Maybe he’ll let you stay. Maybe for a night, a month, a year, forever.

The smell of sweat covered bodies, vanilla scents of sensual movements and whiskey clad tongues fill the room as you move at a slow, passionate pace. His meaty hands and smooth tongue are everywhere, sliding down your neck, pulling your pebbled nipples into his warm mouth, and lapping thoroughly at the slick between your sticky thighs.

Your moans come in sync. Elated, deafening, ravenous every time he licks a thick stripe over your dripping core. He groans each time you rake your fingers through his mess of dark locks, your pleasurable moans filling the room every time he pulls your puffy clit into his mouth as his thick fingers curl up into the spongy walls that make you see blinding stars in your vision. He doesn’t stop even after the first time you come for him, spilling all your pent up slick as he laps up every single drop between your thighs.

He pulls out another mind blowing orgasm with his experienced tongue alone, and he doesn’t even give you a minute to breathe before he’s splitting you in two with the slick cock that fills you to the brim, bottoming out in you time and time again until you feel him everywhere in your system, like the nicotine and whiskey that fill his lungs night after lonely night. He licks into your mouth, his smooth tongue dancing along with yours until you can’t taste anything but the tang of neat whiskey and toxic nicotine that bleed into your bloodstream, tasting like sweet addiction and danger, a lover in disguise.

You’re already close again, almost spilling yourself around his thick cock as he bends your knees back and folds you like an acrobatic so you can feel him deep, rough every single time he snaps his hips against yours and buries his face into your neck with furrowed eyebrows as he sucks and bites against the base of your neck.

“Come for me again, hermosa. There you go, such a good fucking girl. Let me feel you again. Squeezing so tight around my fucking cock,” he growls as he guides his thumb down to your clit and starts to circle nice and slow, the pressure building in your spine as you start to let go.

“Javi,” you moan as you scratch your long nails down his bare back, clawing at his tanned skin every time he guides his slick cocks inside you, reaching that spongy spot that makes you plead and moan with every thrust of his hips.

“Attagirl, hermosa. Tan encantadora,” he pants as sweat covers his glistening forehead. Once, twice, three more tight circles on your bundle of nerves and you’re squeezing his cock, spilling yourself all over him as you moan loudly into his ear as he comes seconds after, throwing his head back as he groans with pleasure as thick ropes of white come paint your insides.

He topples over next to you in the damp, twisted sheets and pulls you against his broad chest while his free hand lights a cigarette up while he gets lost in the thick cloud of nicotine and musty sex. While he sucks on the addictive stick of nicotine, his dark eyes wade over you as his lips graze warmly over your sweat covered forehead.

“Did so good for me, hermosa. You wanna stay the night? I can get you all cleaned up in the morning, and we can go for breakfast. Maybe eat you out on the kitchen counter while I make you coffee. What do you say, hermosa?”

You shift closer against his side, sliding your fingers over his glistening chest as his deep breaths fill the void in the spacious room. You flick your eyes up to him and study him, watching the way he inhales smoke and stares warmly down your way, like he’s in a lucid dream just watching the girl of his dreams. “You mean like… you want to keep seeing me? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

His jaw goes slack as his lips parts open, putting the burning cigarette out on the pale blue ash tray on the edge of his mahogany nightstand. “That’s right, hermosa. A sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girl like you deserves more, and I want to give you that. If you’ll let me.”

You take in his offer, your fingers threading through his as you crawl over him and graze your swollen red lips against his. “Okay then, Javi. Show me your world.”

He cups the back of your neck and brings you down to his lips as he slots his tongue between your lipstick smeared lips, pulling you deep into him as you taste every shade of red he can paint you, coating you in desire you’ve only ever dreamed of.

He tasted like sex and candy, and you were just getting started.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging or commenting or leaving me asks 🩷

Spanish Translations:

Hermosa - beautiful

Esplendida - gorgeous

Gravemente - badly

Follando perfecta - fucking perfect

Tan Encantadora - so lovely

Tags: @keylimebeag @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@vivian-pascal @msjarvis @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @burntheedges

@akah565 @princesatracionera @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @pedrostories

@syd-djarin @tuquoquebrute @r3dheadedwitch

#Javier Pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena one shot #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #Javier Pena Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #javier peña #javier pena fic

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chibrary · 1 day

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ARTICLE: "The plane journey that convinced Ferrari on Leclerc" (Autosport Plus, 2018)

While Ferrari is doing all it can to help minimise the pressure - with boss Maurizio Arrivabene saying this week that the only goal for next year is for Leclerc to gain experience and 'absorb' the tricks of the trade - there is a feeling that in reality it secretly expects much more.

To realise why that is, you have to wind back the clock a little and understand that the decision to sign Leclerc was not some spur-of-the-moment call forced upon Ferrari because it was in a rush to sign somebody.

Ferrari made its decision on the eve of the Italian Grand Prix to pick Leclerc over Kimi Raikkonen not because it had to, but because it wanted to.

Leclerc's speed was obvious. The need to potentially shake up the internal dynamic at Ferrari was real.

And those fears about it being too early for Leclerc, of a young man not able to cope with intense pressure and at risk of being burned out and thrown onto the scrap heap before he hit his peak? The team management's minds had already been put at ease on that front.

It is often said that the qualities of an individual are found not when they are celebrating success, but when they have to pick themselves up from the bad moments.

And in Leclerc's case, it was the way he was able to cope with the death of his father in 2017 that proved a defining moment in convincing Ferrari that he had all it takes to deal with the pressure of racing for the Prancing Horse.

For someone who was as close to his father as Leclerc was, that loss last year was deeply painful. And, coming in the middle of an intense battle for the Formula 2 crown, it could have been enough to trigger a loss of concentration and a drop in form.

But amid all the personal heartache Leclerc was suffering, Arrivabene recalls meeting him on the Ferrari charter flight to Baku that week, and how the youngster's attitude there left him in no doubts about his star qualities.

"I asked him how he was after losing his father a few days before," explains Arrivabene. "He replied that he wanted to win the race, and then go home for the funeral. That is exactly what he did.

"If a guy can handle these moments, I do not think that he will have problems adjusting to the pressure of F1."

Leclerc has spoken openly about how the emotional rollercoaster of that weekend - the crying in the helmet after he took pole position and then the wins - meant those were days where he grew up a lot.

It is important to remember though that Baku was not the first time in his career Leclerc has faced supreme challenges. He knows full well how to keep his head under control when things are not going the way he may have hoped.

There was the risk as he started out his career of being unable to continue karting because the funds were drying up. Only a bit of help from his brother Lorenzo's best friend, Jules Bianchi, in convincing Nicolas Todt to try to help, made the difference.

Even today Todt remembers a very nervous Leclerc being dressed in a super smart black suit for their first meeting... and impressing throughout.

Then there was the difficult time in the middle of his 2015 European Formula 3 campaign. Taking a seat in the Van Amersfoort team that Max Verstappen had shone so strongly for in '14, Leclerc began the season in fine form with a series of wins in the first half of the year.

But something - most likely related to a senior engineer departing mid-season for personal reasons - changed within the team and Leclerc found himself suddenly on the back foot over the second half of the year. Where once he was battling in the top three week in and week out, suddenly he was fighting to be in the top 10.

Leclerc had to dig deep to try to recover; find answers about what had gone wrong, as he came home fourth overall in the standings.

But a super strong showing in Macau, where he finished second right behind winner Felix Rosenqvist, suggested he had kept his focus and unlocked the answers that were needed.

That time also marked Leclerc's arrival in the Ferrari Driver Academy, which helped him both progress as a driver and also show more evidence that when the intensity and pressure increase, he just gets better.

As manager Todt recalls: "Ferrari has helped him in many ways. Physical, mental preparation and also the contribution of the simulator played an important role. Of course, even more pressure has come, as is normal when you are part of the Ferrari world.

"But we have found that the greater the pressure that Charles is subject to, the greater his performance on track. That is a fundamental aspect, because today in the paddock I think that all the drivers have excellent sporting skills. But what makes the difference is the head, and on this front Charles I think is very solid."

Vettel will not be unaware of how fast and how mentally strong Leclerc is. Even if he hadn't seen it for himself, he has probably been told well in advance by Arrivabene why Ferrari is convinced it has the right man.

Did that prompt Vettel's recent suggestions that it will be important that the pair of them work together - rather than against each other - for the good of the team? Is he seeing a shift in the sands at Maranello as things will be different to how they were with Raikkonen? Only Vettel knows the answer to that.

#series:f1 #year:2018 #format:article

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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months

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so! you mentioned in the 'p0rn preferences' post that Gaz is not the one who jerks off the most in the 141, and I humbly ask you, who would that be?

I don't mean this as a request, just a little discussion, cause I feel like Soap would just be going at it at any chance possible, like a bunny. he probably doesn't care much if someone hears it, but that's just me thinking too much into it.

Who Jerks off the Most in the 141 + König

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of Masturbation, Male Masturbation, Implied Reader in Individual Headcanons, Accidental and Implied Voyeurism, Edging, Brief Mention of Injury, Men Who Moan <3, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

A/N: As per Anon's question (which I just had to turn into a post of its own) I present to you the list of the 141 members (and König) who jerk off from the most to least <3

Soap

I have to agree with you here, Anon - Johnny is most definitely the king of self love when it comes to the 141.

He doesn't much care where he is or who he's with; when he has to satisfy his needs, he'll do so.

Though, he'll spare whoever's with him the sight of watching him throwing his head back, trying to stifle his moans behind gritted teeth whilst the wet sound of his hand slipping up and down the length of his shaft fill the room.

Unless they want to.

For one reason or another, he's nigh-insatiable when it comes to his libido, and the fact that his stamina affords him the luxury of beating himself off until his cum is practically translucent doesn't help.

The slightest thing can set him off.

Someone brushing past him ? Hard.

Someone stroking his ego a little too enthusiastically ? Bricked up.

He sees something that's shaped to be a little too curvy or phallic ? Stiff as a pole.

He remembers something mildly suggestive you did three years ago in that restaurant ? He's going to the Horny Realm.

Yes, his teammates have complained about his incessant moaning-come-grunting-come-whimpering through all hours of the night, his voice contorting through a spectrum of desperation and Johnny always ending up spent and overstimulated by the time the sun comes up.

And then he's ready to do it all again the second night touches the horizon line, giving his teammates a knowing smile when he walks into the room sporting nothing else save for a pair of boxers and a monster that looks to be trying to tear itself free from them.

Gaz

Dude's young. Of course he's throttling that rooster on a nigh-daily basis.

The only reason he's not at it as much as Soap is because he likes to believe he still has a few threads of his self-restraint intact.

He doesn't.

Especially when it comes to you (regardless of whether you're dating yet or not).

But he doesn't need to know that.

Honestly, the only thing that separates him from Johnny's unmatched libido is the fact that it takes a little more than the slightest provocation to get Gaz going.

Albeit, that line is a thin one.

If he so much as accidentally sees something explicit for upwards of three seconds, he's hard.

The only advantage of his need for satisfaction is the speed with which he can achieve it.

He and Johnny actually timed each other once to see who could get off the fastest.

Gaz won. Though, only by a slim margin.

Needless to say, that made for a rather interesting conversation with the Captain when he walked in on two of his best soldiers sat panting on the edge of their cots, an almost-translucent spray spattered across their stomachs, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

Ghost

The third-in-line for the Throttle Throne is none other than our beloved Ghost.

Unlike Johnny and Gaz, Ghost is more likely to leave himself alone at the first sign of trouble, toughing it out until he can will his mind to less lustful pastimes.

He won't make his jacking off known to anyone, either, often doing it in the shower where the water beats down so harshly that no sound can be heard for the water's fall.

That, and he's a master at keeping his voice low, no matter the circumstances.

More often than not, Simon makes quick work of jerking off purely because it’s a means to an end. However, if it’s you he’s thinking of, he’s much more likely to take his time — to immerse himself in the fantasy of your body around his, taking him so well in one capacity or another. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock.

During these times, he’s thorough — much more likely to edge himself, to throw his head back and growl between gritted teeth, to savour the sensation coiling in his stomach, his balls growing tight.

Otherwise, he’ll stroke one out as quickly as he can, getting back to business as usual.

And to look at him, on the surface, you'd never know that he just spent the last three minutes rubbing one out in the bathroom (yes, he is also a contender for first place in the 'Who Can Jack Off The Quickest Competition', but he'll never allow Johnny or Gaz the luxury of witnessing his unprecedented skill; that's for your eyes only).

Until he corners you, breathing down your neck, scolding you for tempting him - a man whose restraint lies only in his ability to hold off from reducing you to an exponential reflection of his prior state, breathless and covered in fluids.

König

Have you seen the size of that thing ? Man should be in the olympics for being able to throw that weight around.

Similarly to Ghost, König only gets himself off when it's absolutely necessary.

Only if he doesn't have you lying around to help him, of course.

Though, he lets himself have a bit of fun with it. Especially if it's been a tough day.

He's vocal, too. Though he tries not to be.

He just can't help it. Days' - maybe even weeks' - worth of unspent adrenaline and semen is hardly any way for a soldier like König to go about his life. So, he expels it in the privacy of quite literally any isolated space he can find.

König is not an adventurous spirit by any means when it comes to self pleasure, but when needs must, he's willing to shoulder the weight of the prospect that someone on his team could walk in at any second and catch him spraying his stomach or the wall white with, let's face it, thick ropes of cum.

Hong-Jin's actually caught him doing that before now.

That's actually how the two became friends: Horangi heard König grunting in the store cupboard and, knowing how stubborn his Colonel was with letting others know when he was injured, sought him out. Wanted to offer his help.

Catching Colonel König in the act of throwing his head back whilst growling the name '(Y/N)' into the darkest corner of the room was, suffice it to say, not what Horangi had been expecting.

Price

You just know he's cool with it. And by 'cool', I mean incredibly intentional, controlled, and not ravenous in the ways our other favourite military princesses are.

Sure, Price has gotten hard on the job a few times.

Who hasn't ?

But thanks to his level head, unwavering devotion to his work, and absolute refusal to acknowledge that he did, in fact, get a little bit of a chub during a shoot-out, he's managed to gain control over every facet of his body.

Until he comes home to you, of course.

Until he's able to loom over you like an omen and run his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and pressing kisses that become more open-mouthed the further down the side of your neck he dips.

Pressing his hips into yours. Something demands your attention.

There have been very few occasions where a cold shower wasn't a quick enough fix for him.

When the days of having you milk him are too far out of sight, he's had to suffice with his own hands before now. Had to imagine - remember - what yours felt like in his place, your lips curled up as he gripped the chair arms, breathless as he moaned into the warm tones of your shared apartment.

But don't worry ! He'll be sure to catch you up on everything you've missed while he's been away once he returns.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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shmalk · 1 month

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Could you write the second half of what happens after price shoots immortal!reader? I love this idea, it makes me think of the Old Guard on netflix :D

you're dead.

that's the only thing any of them think, all of them shocked as they watch price holster his weapon and lean back against the post. he checks his watch, one that was practically glued to the inside of his wrist, and takes a puff of his cigar.

its almost a minute before any of them move - and gaz is first, throwing himself onto the ground beside you, pulling you into his arms and trying to pick you up off the ground.

there's too much blood, and he can't seem to lift you - were you always that heavy?

soap is slow, stuttering his feet until he reaches gaz, glancing down at the scene. your hair is mattered and tangled, covered in dust and now your own blood. your eyes are wide open and holding contact with the sky, no sneaking glances towards him or even a slight wink - you're dead.

simon is the only one who focuses on price - storming his way up to him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground. he's confused, scared, for once, he doesn't know anything. did you betray them? did price?

despite knowing the inner turmoil inside his task force's head, price can't help but bark out a laugh, patting on ghost's hands to get the man to drop him.

soap retreats at that, joining ghost as the two of them demand answers - all but promising to take him into the interrogation room and demand he tell the truth.

gaz has to step away to vomit, your blood is warm and it's dripping - but he can feel it moving, he knows its not real and he's imagining it, hoping you'll turn to face him and scream about it being a prank. but you wont - you're dead.

only, you're not dead, and you can't help but groan as your eyes come back into focus, your arms feel like led - but you're able to lift one to cover your eyes from staring up at the sun.

you cough a few times, and push yourself up onto your elbow. you hate getting shot, it was a horrible feeling and you never liked loosing that much blood - but price had done it once (after you'd all but demanded he do it) and now he liked the shock factor.

glancing around, you take note of ghost, holding price by his shirt against a pole, and soap holding a large metal pole, threating to beat him over the head. all of three of them have turned to stare at you as you rise from the dead.

gaz is beside you, frozen in place in the middle of wiping his face free from bile.

"sorry for getting shot in the head, you guys."

a few people asked for a continuation !! sorry if this isn't the best, had a long day at work today and the weather in aus is c r az y !!

#john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #141 monster au #reader monster 141 #141 x reader #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #shmalk ! ᧔♡᧓

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norrisleclercf1 · 27 days

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I’m sorry but a pity blowjob is actually hilarious like I can imagine Lando asking for one after every race he doesn’t make pole or the podium. Boy could win fastest lap and make p4 and in his driver room be like ‘plz baby I need a blowie to feel less like a failure’

A/N: Should be studying but it's the final stages of my period and I get a little.....yeah

"Will you blow me?" Your head snaps up looking at your best friend whose was splashed out on the couch and for a second you did picture yourself between his legs.

"Lando? Why are you suddenly asking?" You weren't saying no, honestly you wouldn't say no to him. Lando was hot in the way that he was a total nerd but still hot. You couldn't quiet explain, just something about him had you picturing that damn cartier necklace dangling over you, curls between your legs, and his thick cock in your mouth.

Lando hums and rubs the back of his head, race suit dangling from his waist and you felt your mouth water. "I don't know, maybe a pity blowjob. When I don't do good you could blow me." He shrugs and you think it over. Lando from what you have heard, was good in bed, so why wouldn't you take him up on the offer.

"Okay," You toss your phone to the side and you see the surprise but then the dark look that crosses over his face. "Now?" He asks, and you giggle seeing the way his suit got a tiny bit tighter. "Well yeah, unless you don't want to?" But Lando shakes his head no and reaches out for you, pulling you in by the back of your thighs you admire the way his fireproof hugs his chest and arms.

Neither of you say anything as you slowly sink to your knees, both of you never breaking eye contact. Lando's breathing gets faster as you reach your hands down, hooking in the waistband. He lifts his hips up and watches as you pull them down. Revealing the slopes of his thighs you lean in, placing small kisses and running your nails up and down making him shiver.

You move your fingers up and rub your thumbs into his waist which has him groan. You know after a long race his hips are the sorest, you've seen Jon rub out his hips more than once to know what to do. Lando closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling but you move one hand and grab the half hard on and squeeze which has his knee bouncing from the sudden sensation.

Smiling and finally stop and pull down the special fireproof briefs they were and lick your lips when Lando's cock stands up. "Damn," You mummer, running your eyes over him appreciatively. "Like what you see?" You slap his thigh which has him giggling. Lando wasn't crazy big, maybe 5 to 6 inches, but the girth on him was impressive, you could practically feel the weight of him on your tongue.

He had veins sticking out, slowly you take your tongue and trace them which has Lando letting out a low groan. "Fuck, babe." Lando's finger trace your face before digging into your hair. You smile and move up to his tip and sucking it in. Lando arches his back pushing a little bit more of him into your mouth.

You breath through your nose you take him deeper into your mouth and start to bop your head. Lando let's out little grunts and moans letting you go at your own pace. You were taking it slow, but you also knew that building him up was hot. Looking up you go deeper which has Lando's eyes flying open his breathing picking up.

"M...fuck, y/n. Going to," You move and suck harder which has his thighs shaking as your mouth is filled with Lando, you didn't even care, it was a little salty but you take it and swallow as Lando shakes and comes down from his high. You pull off and give soft feather kisses to his now deflating cock and see Lando blessed out.

"Yeah, we're defiantly doing that again." You giggle and lean up giving him a soft peck. "Next time, I repay the favor." He gasps head still spinning. And fuck you could've come right then and there picturing him between your legs.

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 6 months

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What about with lando every night reader goes to bed with freezing feet and always puts them on lando to warm them up

Ice Blocks - LN

This is so cute and as a low iron queen, my circulation is pathetic and my feet and hands are always freezing. So this is right up my alley.

Gonna base this directly after the Brazil qualifying that we all just saw. Also kind of short but sweet.

Usually y/n wouldn't try to push Lando's mood when he's so annoyed after a qualifying and debrief. But the rain added to the cold. Brazil is warm but that storm was something else and it wasn't warm to be pelted with the rain while trying to get around the paddock.

"You went from p17 to P4 last week baby. I don't think you really need to worry about your race outcome." Y/n tries knowing that if she injects confidence and reassurance into her tone it might see his mood pick up. Even if it's only for her benefit to use him as a human radiator.

Lando flops back onto the bed with a groan. He knows she's right, the car comes alive with race pace and Lando has the ability to climb back through the grid. The problem is, he shouldn't have to. The car can perform well enough to be on the front row, possibly taking pole.

But instead neither of the McLaren's even made the top 5.

"I just want to chill, watch some tv, eat and cuddle with my girlfriend." Lando sighs making her grin at him, moving to straddle him and grin as she leans down kissing him.

"You are amazing. You are one of the best drivers on the grid and you know, when you finally get that race win. It's probably going to be the year that you destroy the rest of the grid and take the championship."

"Now you're just playing dangerous games." Lando laughs before rolling them over and kissing her with a lingering kiss that ends abruptly when he stands up. "I'll order room service."

So he orders them some food, they eat, and then change, get the tv on and before they know it. They're climbing into bed. But it takes all of 0.1 of a second for Lando to gasp feeling the chill of his girlfriend's limbs.

"Y/n!" Lando gasps in horror, but it's too late. She's latched on like a snake, coiling around him and tightening whenever he tries to move to make a potential escape. "You are freezing! Did you stick your hands and feet in the ice bath before we left? Why are you always this cold?"

"I don't know. But you're warm. Just let me warm up for a bit." Y/n pouts while he takes a few deep breaths trying to force his body to climatise to the cool temperature of her feet as she rubs them on him trying to use friction to speed up the process.

"You are so lucky I love you, or you be sleeping on the floor for this." Lando states earning a small giggle that does melt his faux upset about her sharing her coldness. Eventually she's warmed up a little, though only enough for him to feel like it's not fresh ice touching him and more just a slightly cold feeling.

He finally wraps around her too, returning the tight grip she has on him with his own hold on her.

"You do give the best cuddles. I don't want to ever finish a day without them."

"You end so many days without my cuddles when I'm not here."

"Yeah...but I don't want to end my days like that." Lando smiles then kissing the top of her head. "My little block of ice who likes to freeze me half to death right before we go to sleep."

"So dramatic." Y/n scoffs jokingly while he just squeezes her again.

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liyawritesss · 9 months

Text

ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.9k

Synopsis: Miles tells his Uncle Aaron the real reason why he’ll always answer his phone for you.

Warnings: Cursing, no usage of [y/n] or second person perspective, brief mention of potential gun usage, old school gang terms (Aaron refers to a gun as a 'pole') I envisioned a late teen 42!Miles so he’s around 17-18 here, but still keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!

A/N: I know I said that the previous fic would more than likely be my only attempt at 42!Miles but the ugly ass nigga is growing on me so…here yall go i guess

Song Suggestions: “So Into You” (Remix) by Sydney Renae; “LORD FORGIVE ME” by Tobe Nwigwe ft. Fat Nwigwe & Pharrell; “Run Tha Streetz” by Tupac, Storm, Mutah, Michel’le

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed @pnkweb

It went without saying that if it didn’t pertain to family or business, Aaron wasn’t quite fond of the use of phones.

He had a real old school view on them; didn’t like how kids these days were always stuck nose deep into the devices. Of course, he came from a generation where a phone’s only use was to contact another person. He never got into the hype of the latest iPhones, nor did he understand the need for five different cameras attached to the device. The only benefit he saw with the rectangular device was that it made communication more prompt and precise (though he’d never admit that he appreciated being able to play any games he wanted, at his disposal, at any time he wished).

So, naturally, when Miles became old enough to engage in his ‘business’, the one rule Aaron posed that didn’t pertain to the ‘game’ was that him being on his phone was an absolute no-go.

“I ain’t got time for you to be distracted by that thing,” he’d said the very first night Aaron trusted the younger to bring him along, “if you gon’ be in, I need you to be all the way in. No half-assin’ this shit, you hear?”

And of course, Miles agreed, no matter how insufferable the first few weeks of patrol were when Aaron literally locked his cellular device in a safe back at the workshop. While it served to pry the connection the fifteen year old had with the device at the time, it was also his way of teaching Miles to not rely on the device for communication, prompting Miles to fortify new avenues of such. Aaron had a genius nephew, after all, and expected nothing less from the person who would soon take up his mantle as The Prowler.

Though, Aaron started to notice a shift in the practice behavior a few months ago, and it made him wonder had his teachings begun to fall short, even after a few years of the settled routine.

He’d notice the flexing of the younger’s arm whenever the faint buzz from the vibration of Miles’ phone sounded, no doubt squeezing the device in his pocket with his hand.

Aaron also was not ignorant to Miles’ dipping off to the side to answer a quick call in hushed tones, and the words used to address the other person on the line made it clear to the older man that it wasn’t Rio calling him, and it piqued Aaron’s curiosity even more.

Though, Aaron could never say anything, since Miles was sure to put his phone on do not disturb before heading out into the night, and the calls always remained under a minute or two, not taking too much time away from their very serious business. He found himself frustrated because Aaron couldn’t be mad at him for being responsible for his phone usage, despite his own feelings towards the usage of such devices. Yet, it irked him all the same when Miles would take a peek at his phone during a moment of down time, or when he’d caught the boy staring at his messages a couple of times during a debriefing session.

“Aye, c’mon man,” Aaron finally grumbles out one night, sucking his teeth at the sight of Miles tapping away on the brightly lit screen close to his face, illuminating his melanated features, “I need you outta that shit, we got work to do.”

“A’ight, a’ight,” says the younger as he finishes off a text, pocketing his phone and brushing past Aaron briskly, “just had to answer my girl real quick. I’m off it.”

“You better be,” Aaron scolds, “we need you at a’hunnid tonight, Miles. No excuses.”

Though Aaron wasn’t about to let Miles’ admission slip under the radar, the current task at hand was much more pressing than the revelation that his nephew was seeing someone. He’d have to play the father figure role after tonight's mission was complete.

It’s when the deepest shade of midnight blue begins to fade into faint purple hues that Aaron is able to bring up the conversation once again. He tries to make it light, but over the years, his smooth talk has become just as rustic as his Prowler skills. “I’m gon’ have to bring the safe out again if I keep seein’ that phone, Miles.”

The echo of the younger sucking his teeth in annoyance doesn’t fly past Aaron’s head. It’s the response he expected from his nephew. He turns around from his work desk to face the younger, leaning against one of the many concrete pillars that keep the building intact.

“I’m serious, boy,” Aaron asserts, “you been on that phone a lil’ too much lately, man. I’on like it.”

Miles scratches the side of his face; he knows he doesn’t have much of a good excuse to use as to why his eyes have been more on his phone as of late. Well, not an excuse Aaron would find plausible anyway.

“A’ight, Unc. I’ll chill.”

It’s not the exact response that Aaron expects, but if Miles says that he’ll watch his phone activity, the older believes him. The younger has no reason to lie to him, anyway.

A beat passes before Aaron starts again, crossing to the middle of the room where the large, red punching bag.

“So, is she a good distraction,” he muses with a knowing look, “or do I gotta be worried that she gon’ take your head out the game?”

The younger pauses for a second, braids dancing along his shoulder. Then, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips as his head tilts to the side, his eyes wandering. Aaron knows that kind of look. It’s the look of a boy high on love, and from the way Miles fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, Aaron can deduct that it’s that good loving, too. The kind of loving that Rio gave Jefferson, and it stole the late brother’s heart. It warms his heart to see his nephew sport a look that someone his age should.

“She’s good.” Miles says. “She’s…real good, Tio. Too good, probably.”

Aaron hums in response, the sound coming from the depths of his throat as he pauses, taking in a breath. “Do she know?”

It’s a hard question to ask; Aaron doesn’t want to blow his nephew’s high, but it’s a necessary one to ask. For the safety of all parties involved.

Miles’ smile falters in the slightest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes cast downward.

“She know I do shit on the low. Not…all this, though.” And from the tone in Miles’ voice, he, too, knows that it’s better this way.

The older begins to walk towards the stairs to exit the workshop building, gesturing to Miles to follow, “Good.”

Aaron thinks back to when he first remembers the diversion of behavior started. Although it wasn’t and never became aggressive, it started with Miles casually peeking at his phone every now and then, maybe once or twice throughout the whole night the two were set together. He puts two and two together, his head nodding to the conclusion he’d drawn.

“So it’s her you be textin’?” Aaron asks, descending the stairs.

The younger nods, following in tow, “Just lettin’ her know that I’ma be out and can’t answer the phone, shit like that.”

“And when she do call?”

A light, dry chuckle escapes Miles’ lips at the question. “She just be askin’ me shit.”

“Shit like what?” Aaron muses, twisting the knob to the door leading outside, opening it to reveal purple hues slowly fading into peach in the sky. “What color nails for her to get? Password to the Netflix?”

They get to the car, but the silence that takes place during the short time it takes to approach the older’s vehicle answers his own question before Miles does.

“Yeah, actually,” the younger voice, arms folding atop the car roof, leaning against the sleek black metal as he looks at his uncle, “and the color for her peek-a-boo braids; and if it’s okay if she eats my leftover takeout; and if I can hang up her wall art thingy when I come by-”

“-so what you’re saying is, she’s clingy?” The older’s eyebrows furrow in amusement and slight confusion - the way Miles speaks about the isolated experiences has him questioning what kind of girl his nephew was actually dating.

“You know what’s crazy, though, Tio?” The younger poses, pulling the handle to the passenger car door when he hears the click, signifying Aaron unlocking the vehicle finally. “She’s not clingy like that; it’s somethin’ else.”

“You’re losin’ me, kid.” The older chuckles, closing his door once he’s settled inside the driver's seat.

Miles sucks his teeth, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in thought, and Aaron can tell that the younger is trying to find the right words to distinguish what he means.

“I hear guys say that shit like that is annoying,” Miles begins, tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it down from riding up his toned stomach, “but it ain’t like that to me. She asks me all these things; think maybe it’s because she feels safe enough to ask them of me. And if she feel like I got the answers for her, then-”

The younger stops mid-sentence, contemplating how to proceed with his explanation. Yet, Aaron is all ears, listening intently. Quite frankly, it’s the most he’s heard Miles talk about anything in a long time - his rambling reminds him of the old Miles that once was, before the unfortunate.

Then, the younger takes a deep breath, reclines back into his seat, legs spread in the slightest for comfortability, his hands running the length of his thighs, “Ionno, Unc. Makes me feel good, I guess.”

And in that moment, Aaron’s vision blurs for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Miles sitting in the passenger seat, or if it’s his late brother. Perhaps it's the glare of the sun in his eyes…perhaps it’s Aaron actually seeing the soul of Jefferson shine through his son in the early morning sunlight that dances across his melanated skin.

A hum passes through the older’s throat as he starts the car up, the sound of the engine revving through the silence that settled within the car. Aaron clears his throat before speaking again, “I’ma tell you what I told your pops about your moms, kid.”

Miles turns his head from the window to face his uncle, who shifts the car from parked to drive, hand sitting at the top of the steering wheel.

“If she make you feel good, the kinda good you know you can’t get anywhere else, and if she make you feel like a man; you keep her close.” Aaron hums. His lips tug upwards when the younger gives a subtle nod in return.

“I’m serious now, Miles. Don’t be like yo’ daddy.” Aaron reiterates as he pulls his foot off the brakes, turning the steering wheel and pressing down on the gas to drive out of the parking lot. “Dumbass almost lost ya moms cuz he ain’t wanna listen-”

“A’ight, a’ight, I got you,” the younger replies, “I’on think she goin’ anywhere no way, though.”

“Good.” Aaron affirms. “If she know of the kinda game you in, then she need to know how to work somethin’, too. Make sure she can hold you down properly.”

“I’on know about that, Unc,” Miles replies, “she too much of a good girl for that.”

“Shit, good girls work the best poles, boy. Don’t get the game twisted.”

“Unc, no one says ‘poles’ in reference to guns anymore.” The younger says through a chuckle as the two drive off down the street, the purples in the sky now fading into a pretty golden hue that casts over the city that never sleeps.

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 13 days

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Hello I love your non con writings. Specially your rape smuts are top of the line. I througly enjoyed your Wony and SinB smut dump. Lily one was good too. Can you make Karina the next toy for your Smut Dump? Karina getting brutally raped in all of her holes for dating someone other than her fans or something similar would be amazing.

Smut Dump 4: Karina

A/N: Hello! I have nothing to say other than thank you! I couldn't be happier and truly glad that there's someone out there who enjoys my absurd work. Also, I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this. I hope you (and the others) have fun reading.

T/W: Gang Rape, Nasty Stuff, a little blood, Anal, Mentioned Prolapse

Karina's hardcore fanboys discover she's been dating someone outside of her dedicated follower group.

Enraged at her perceived betrayal, they ambush her as she leaves a recording studio late one night.

They knock her unconscious and drag her into a dingy back alley reeking of garbage and stale piss.

When she comes to, Karina finds herself stripped naked, her wrists bound tightly behind her back in a kneeling position.

Three of her biggest fans surround her, leering maliciously as their rock-hard cocks jut out from unzipped pants.

"You've been a very bad girl, Yu Jimin," one of them snarls. "Time to punish that stupid body of yours for stepping out on us."

The first fan, a tall skinny guy forces her mouth open and shoves his thick shaft deep into her throat, making her gag.

Another bulky man spreads her legs wide as he slips underneath between her legs before positioning his swollen cockhead at the entrance to her slick unprepared slit.

He then slams into her roughly, her muffled screams vibrating along the cock violating her mouth as he starts pounding her cunt mercilessly.

As the first guy keeps savagely face-fucking Karina, she gags and drools excessively, tears streaming down her cheeks from the rough throat penetration.

"Fuck yeah, take that cock, you stupid cow slut," he growls.

Meanwhile, the second man hammers her pussy relentlessly. "Your cunt belongs to us, bitch. We're going to use every one of your fuck holes tonight to teach you a lesson."

A third man moves behind her, rubbing the thick head of his veiny cock against her puckered asshole.

"Get ready for this monster cock to wreck this tight little asshole," he says with a sadistic grin.

He forces the bulbous tip into her resisting sphincter, making Karina wail in pain around the dick gagging her.

Inch by inch he works his way inside her bowels, stretching her anal ring wide.

Soon all three men are slamming in and out of her abused holes in a brutal rhythm, grunting like feral animals.

Karina's holes are savagely used by her vengeful fans as their assault intensifies.

The one face-fucking her throat grips her hair in a fistful and hammers his thick slab of meat back and forth between her slobbering lips.

"Choke on that fucking cock!" His balls slap loudly against her chin with each vicious thrust.

The other two men show no mercy either. Her pussy is drenched as the second guy's rigid pole batters it at a punishing pace, his heavy nuts swinging back and forth under her bruised thighs, spreading them even wider.

The ass penetrator has buried half his considerable size into her vice-like sphincter, feeling it desperately contract around his violating shaft.

"That's it, whore...loosen up that ass! You're gonna take every inch whether you like it or not!"

The collective sounds of excessive wet flesh on flesh, gagging, sobbing, and fierce male grunting fill the filthy alley as Karina's perfect body is annihilated in a bone-jarring triple penetration.

Her fans are vicious, degrading animals, releasing weeks of built-up frustration through violently using all her holes.

Karina arches her back sharply, gagging loudly as the cock slides deeper down her constricted throat.

The man face-fucking her grasps her head firmly with both hands, using it like a human fuck toy while snarling nasty insults.

Behind her, the fan pounding her sopping pussy from below slams upward with harsh, piston-like strokes.

Stringy ropes of her unwilling arousal cling to his lapidated length, coating his groin and upper thighs. Her knees are forced up and out.

The third savage penetrating her asshole laughs loudly as Karina squeals around the mouth-invader.

His hands grip her fleshy asscheeks like a steering wheel, spreading them apart to grant deeper access to her clenched rectum.

Already over half his thick cock has been forced into her bowels.

Her big, saggy breasts sway and jiggle furiously from the intense triple-pronged onslaught.

One man lashes out, taking turns slapping them viciously with his open palm, leaving reddening handprints on her pale, sweat-slicked flesh.

"Look at these fucking udders flop around! Bet your new boyfriend doesn't get to abuse these titties like we do, you ungrateful bitch!"

The vicious pummeling and demeaning words rip more muffled wails from the human fucking doll.

"Oh fuck, here it comes, slut!" the fan throttling Karina's face grunts out a warning.

His cock swells thicker in her crammed mouth as potent seed explodes down her convulsing gullet.

She's forced to swallow spurt after molten spurt, choking and gagging around the still-thrusting meat pole.

When he finally pulls free, his shrinking prick leaving a sloppy trail of saliva and jism across her cheek, the furious man winds up and slaps her hard across the face.

“Swallow it all, you worthless whore!!

Karina coughs and splutters, wailing in despair, "P...please, I'm so-sorry!” Another smack on her face. “Argh!! No more, PLEASE!"

But the other two ravaging her lower holes are far from satisfied. The one jackhammering her cunt grunts through clenched teeth.

"You hear that, bitch? We're NOWHERE near done with you yet!" Just then his swollen tip swells further as his own pent-up explosion hits.

A high-pitched squeal rips from Karina as her insides are bloated with thick ropes of scalding seed, painting her womb white.

"OH FUCK OH GOD PLEASE!" she babbles, tears and mascara streaking black down her reddened cheeks.

Her pleas fall on deaf ears as the anal ravager continues rearranging her guts savagely.

A deep, satisfied groan escapes the man who just pumped Karina's formerly pristine womb full of his thick seed.

Instead of withdrawing, he stays hilted inside her aching, puffy pussy, savoring the hot velvet sensation as her violated channel quivers around his still-rigid cock.

"C'mere, you traitor slut," yanking her upper body down to lay atop his heaving chest.

Large calloused hands grasp and squeeze both doughy tit-udders, mashing them against his grinning face.

Karina's sobs renew as his mouth latches harshly onto one dark nipple. He sucks obscenely while biting down, clamping the tender nub between his teeth.

A high-pitched shriek rings out as he draws blood, crimson spotting his lips and chin.

"ARGH! P-PLEASE, NOOOO!" she bawls piteously. But none show mercy.

The burly man double-stuffed in her tight asshole stiffens, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he erupts.

Karina's scream mingles with his guttural roar as his nasty cum floods her ruined anal hole, splattering up into her guts.

When he finally wrenches free, her abused sphincter is left gaping. She can't control it as her bowels unleash a wet gurgle.

A thick, sticky thread of cum and yellowish fluid oozes from the prolapsing rosebud, drooling down her thighs.

With sinister grins, the depraved gang haul Karina's floppy form over to the nearby dumpster. They bend her over it roughly, not caring about the foul stench of rotting garbage surrounding them.

One grabs her by the throat, forcing her upper body down against the filthy metal lid as another moves in behind.

"Make sure this fucking bitch screams for us," he barks, lining his puffed cockhead up with her gaping, slimy asshole.

Gripping her hips in a vice, he slams forward, impaling her ravaged rectum on his entire length in one deep thrust.

"AAAAAAGGGHHHH!!!" Karina screams, mouth gaping in a rictus of utter agony.

Jagged shards of pain lash up her spine as the thick cock stretches her destroyed sphincter wide yet again.

The other two men take turns using her flayed arms as leashes, pulling her battered body back onto their friend’s awaiting cock.

Sobs and pleas tumble from her drooling lips as they take turns piercing her creampied cunt with no respite.

"P-Please... Slow down— M-Mercy!! " she garbles out amidst hysterical bawling. "I...I c-can't... AAAAGGGHHH!!"

But her tormentors are deaf to her abject begging. All they care about is achieving twisted pleasure through demolishing her idealized form into a broken wreaking of bodily fluids and humiliation.

The merciless assault intensifies, if such a thing is possible.

Karina is yanked off the dumpster lid entirely by the two deviants raping her cunt and asshole in rapid succession.

Her shapely legs are lifted high, calves draped over shoulders as the two maniac fans impale her holes with frenzied, upward slam.

"AAAAHHHH!!! P...PUH-LEEEEZE!!" she wails, voice already growing HOARSE from the relentless screaming.

Spits and smeared mascara streak her blank face as Karina is rag-dolled between two punishing cocks.

Each time her raw pussy is vacated, it gapes horrifyingly, exposing her insides before the next thick cock buries itself to the root.

One impatient fan shoves forward, mauling her pendulous, sweat-soaked breasts as he waits his turn.

Fingers claw and squeeze the supple flesh without mercy, leaving crimson weals from his vicious grip. The metallic taste of her torn fills his tongue.

"Look at these fucking udders!" he bellows with sadistic glee. "These fat tits are MINE next, you hear?!"

He spits a thick loogie directly onto one upturned tit-curve before burying his face into the bountiful sweaty valley, rutting like a bull.

Karina's once pristine, porcelain features are now a puffy, streaked, ruined mess. A lifetime's worth of hardcore porn couldn't prepare her for this level of violation.

The onslaught continues until every last one of the vengeful fans has emptied their swollen balls into Karina's formerly tight holes.

Over and over they take turns demolishing her gaping cunt and prolapsed asshole with ruthless poundings, leaving her continuously oozing thick ropes of cum.

By the end, the starlet is barely conscious, her naked, ruined body covered in dried and fresh streaks of cum, sweat, and tears.

Mascara-stained eyes are half-lidded, vacant expressions of utter shock upon her once radiant face. Throaty cries and whimpers occasionally escape her purpled lips.

"That'll teach this slut to start respecting her real fans again," one of the men says, zipping up his soiled jeans.

The others snicker and spit on Karina's quivering form in disdain.

With a hard kick to her side that forces out a wet belch of their combined expenditures, the guys slink off into the night.

The disgraced idol is left a cum-drenched and nearly-unrecognizable heap amid the reeking alleyway filth.

#kpop smut #karina aespa #karina smut #smut dump #aespa smut

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daisynik7 · 15 days

Text

I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society.

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit.

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn’t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more.

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more.

This theory is soon debunked.

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood.

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious.

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later.

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone.

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you.

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy.

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t.

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special.

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him.

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him.

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay.

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence.

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life.

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won.

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody.

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright.

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night.

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more.

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore.

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front.

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful.

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you.

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

Text

heartless | luke castellan

MDNI!!!!!!

fuckboy! luke (kinda) but also kind of loser!luke a little bit. enemies to lovers (more of sexual tension really); not canon, no betrayal, and pokes fun of aphrodite girls but yk i love them, this is just for the plot. ares!reader x luke castellan.

i. never need a bitch, i'm what a bitch need, tryna find the one that can fix me; i've been dodging death in the six-speed.

there were many things about being a half-blood that luke hated. having a deadbeat father ranks highly on the list, obviously, and the lack of exposure to the real world was up there, too. he ran away from camp once during the year when there weren’t many kids around. it was right after his eighteenth birthday when he thought that his life would magically change for the better now that he beat the odds (sue him for being hopeful), but when the clock hit midnight and he was still stuck on his cramped, cot in the corner of the hermes cabin, he decided enough was enough.

he did his final cabin checks and left camp after, wandering aimlessly until he found the train station to take him straight to the city. he hopped over the turnstile and squeezed himself into the crowded subway car. the first thing that struck luke was how different each group of people was from each other. in one corner, there were businessmen in itchy suits, trying to check out the group of girls across from them, clearly dressed for a night out. luke scoffed at them, smirking to himself when one of the men flushed in embarrassment at the fact that luke caught him.

what a fucking loser, luke thought.

there was a girl around luke’s age, sneaking glances at him. she was pretty; blonde, pouty-lipped, and definitely interested. at this point, luke hadn’t been experienced. other than the aphrodite girls flirting with him and the occasional hazed and rushed makeout sessions during the campfires, luke hadn’t done anything with anyone. but if he can make the daughters of the goddess of love blush, surely it couldn’t be that difficult to make a mortal fall under his charm too.

he was right.

he shot her one of his signature smirks, feeling a sense of pride bloom in his chest when she had to grab onto the pole in front of her to keep steady. luke adjusted the navy sweater he had on, tugging on the collar a bit to show off a little skin. his silver necklace sat nicely on his neck and he watched subway girl’s eyes rake over his body. luke bit his bottom lip, motioning for the girl to take the empty seat beside him. her eyes widened, but she did what she was told.

unfortunately, reality caught up with him quickly when a hellhound found him as he was exiting the subway car with the pretty girl (jessie? jane? janet? he doesn’t remember.) around his arm. luke castellan was a lot of things, but a killer wasn’t one of them, so he made some stupid excuse to the girl about why he had to leave just so he could keep her safe. (it killed him to do it. he’s a teenage boy. he has needs.) the girl walked away, upset, huffing to her friends about how he wasted her time and got her hopes up. luke just rolled his eyes and dislodged his small knife from his pocket sitting beside his half-smoked cigarette box, ready to take on the hellhound.

“you couldn’t wait ‘til i at least got to second base?” luke cringed, partly at himself for talking to the hellhound like it could talk back to him. “had to show up right now, huh, buddy?”

he received a growl in return.

the fight wasn’t too terrible, but after the hellhound whimpered, walking away in defeat, luke was too tired to continue his exploration of the real world. he hopped on the train back to camp, clutching the scratch the hellhound left on him. his (only nice piece of clothing) navy sweater was ruined. the thread was falling apart where the hellhound dug its claws in and it was stained with his blood. he would’ve fought better and avoided the injury if his balls weren’t fucking blue.

luke closed his eyes, breathing heavily. even though it was only for a few minutes, the idea of being a regular teenager, flirting with girls, going to clubs, drinking cheap tequila from a plastic bottle, was something luke yearned for. he only got to experience a fraction of it. he wanted to experience it more, preferably without testing death each time.

the older kids heard of luke’s adventure when they saw the counselor walking into the apollo cabin the following morning to get his wounds treated. he made a note to never tell chris anything again because the boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. by lunch, the entire camp, including chiron and mr. d, heard about luke’s unplanned visit to the city and his interaction with one of hades’ guards.

“luke.”

he turned around, eyebrows furrowed, then raised in surprise. in front of him were three aphrodite girls, pouting at him. he crossed his arms across his chest, smirking, “what’s up, gorgeous?”

“heard you went looking for some fun last night.”

“are we not good enough for you, luke?”

“why would you go looking for better when you have the best right here in camp?”

luke wanted to laugh. the aphrodite girls were always so bold with their words, but when it came down to the wire, they would never want to disappoint their mom by being with the golden boy-turned-teenage dirtbag. he respected it, though. their allegiance to their mom was admirable. if aphrodite was his godly parent and she gave him the power to always be attractive, he didn’t think he’d do anything to piss her off either.

“why do you think i came back?” luke flirted, running a hand through his curls, “realized there was nobody like you.”

the three girls blushed and giggled, even if none of them knew who his comment was actually directed toward. they waved goodbye to him, and he watched them walk away, admiring the view.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

luke couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upwards at the sound of your voice, “what now, y/n?”

you and luke had been at each other’s throats since you first got to camp half-blood. you, as the daughter of ares, one of his favorites coming only second to clarisse, pushed luke’s buttons like no other. you walked into camp and immediately saw through his boy-next-door facade and saw him for who he truly was. usually, luke would hate you for it, but now, it was hard for him not to think about shutting you up in other ways. less friendly ways, but if he had his ways, just as harsh.

the rivalry began when you were fourteen. the title of best swordsman bounced between the two of you over the years. luke currently has the title, but it was only because he cheated; he swears he’s just better, but there’s no universe where you’d actually admit luke castellan was better than you at something. the five seconds between you being chosen to be head counselor for the ares cabin and him being chosen as the head counselor for the hermes cabin were the best five seconds of your life. it was the only time you held a higher position than him.

luke quite enjoyed your little banter (when you weren’t around to ruin his game). it only got better when he had his huge growth spurt and you could no longer reach things when he held it up over his head. when you didn’t talk and run your mouth (usually cursing at him or cursing him), luke thought you might even be cute. he loved making you turn red, even if it was out of pure anger over his antics, but his favorite is when he gets you tongue-tied because his dirty, teenage brain makes him say something before he thinks.

“there’s no way that actually worked on them.”

“take a look for yourself,” luke motioned to the group of girls who were now whispering and shooting heart eyes at him. “it always works.”

“oh, get your head out your ass, castellan,” you spat.

“spitting is not going to get you the reaction you might think,” luke smirked, eyeing you up and down. your eyes widened and you looked away from him to hide the redness of your cheeks. like that. luke licked his lips, “might actually have the opposite effect on me.”

“you’re disgusting.”

luke let out a full belly laugh as you walked away from him. sure, there were some pretty shitty things about camp half-blood, but there were some pretty great things there too, and messing with you is on the top of his list.

ii. hundred models gettin' faded in the compound, tryna love me but they never get a pulse down.

“do you guys always fight like this?”

you and luke peeled your eyes away from each other at the sound of percy’s voice. the poor boy was looking between his two mentors, torn because he had no idea who to listen to. you sighed, walking over to him.

you placed a hand on his shoulder, “sorry, percy. luke is just… forget it, let’s just try it one more time, yeah?”

“luke is just what?” luke asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “finish your sentence, y/n. c’mon.”

“the words i’d like to use wouldn’t be appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.”

“‘m from new york, i probably heard it already,” percy shrugged, pausing. “come to think of it, i probably used it before.”

luke let out a chuckle, patting percy on the back. “my man.”

“can you not encourage cussing, head counselor?”

“fine, i guess you’re just gonna have to tell me what you were going to say later. in private.”

“castellan,” you smacked his chest. hard. you were furious with luke, but you couldn’t help but flush at his suggestive words, “don’t start.”

percy frowned, “i don’t get it.”

luke took mercy on you and wrapped an arm around the boy. he led percy away, promising to continue working on his sword skills later after capture the flag. before they disappeared from your view, luke made sure to turn around to shoot you a wink. you flipped him off in return.

it wasn’t always like this between you and luke. once upon a time, your banters were innocent, like kids fighting over the last piece of candy in the jar. luke literally used to pull your hair when he was behind you in the line for food and you used to stick your foot out to trip him when he was playing tag with his siblings.

but then, he returned from his quest. at first, you felt bad for him. he came back unable to complete it, and he was permanently scarred from it. it must’ve been difficult to have that constant reminder. after a few months, though, when his scar was almost fully healed, the whispers about how attractive luke castellan was started. luke closed himself off after his quest and spent his time doing extra training. you could lie and say that all the extra workouts didn’t do wonders for him, but nobody would believe you anyway.

in short, luke castellan got hot. he was no longer the pesky little boy you bantered with. he got taller, broader, and dirtier. you weren’t dumb, you knew the innuendos that he would throw at you. you were in the same sex ed class as he was in. (side note: mr. d teaching teenagers about sex ed was your own personal version of hell. tartarus be damned.) somehow, luke turned into a teenage heartthrob at camp and all of a sudden, all the girls were throwing themselves at him. it made you sick, but what made you more sick, was that you understood why.

ever since luke’s confidence skyrocketed and he leaned into his bad boy persona, there was a different charge in your banter; as if instead of trying to push your buttons, now, he was trying to get you under him. from blowing his cigarette smoke directly into your direction to all his dirty comments, luke castellan was acting like he wanted you. and surprisingly, you didn’t stop him.

“can y’all just fuck already?” you spun around to find clarisse leaning against a tree, her spear mounted on the floor. she had a teasing smile on her lips, “maybe once you hate-fuck, you guys will get it out your systems.”

“ew, castellan?” you sneered. your nose scrunched up in disgust, though your stomach churned at the thought of it. “never in a million years.”

“dude, the sexual tension between you guys is insane,” she shrugged, walking over to you. “come on, sis, you can’t pretend like you don’t feel it.”

“i feel a lot of things for luke castellan, but wanting to fuck him is not one of them.”

you’re a liar. you knew that. clarisse knew that. but you’re thankful that your sister didn’t call you out on your bullshit.

she laughed, “whatever you say. now, ready to train me?”

you spun your sword around expertly, “always.”

this week’s game of capture the flag was eventful. you lost, much to your dismay, but the results of the game were overshadowed by poseidon claiming percy as his kid. the subject of forbidden kids were a touchy subject, for obvious reasons, but you knew that it was especially hard for luke. you didn’t know thalia well, but with how often annabeth talked about her, you felt like you knew her.

luke never talked about thalia, though. you figured it was because it was too painful for him to think about. he knew her longer than annabeth did and his memories of her were much more vivid than the young girl’s. with percy being poseidon’s kid, you knew that it was bound to bring up some unwanted memories for the hermes counselor. but what shocked you was seeing luke sitting with his siblings at the campfire instead of being surrounded by fawning girls like he usually was. whenever his team won, he would bask in the glory of the win, shotgunning smoke into the mouth of whoever was closest to him before disappearing for a bit only to come back with marks all over his neck.

but tonight, he was sitting next to chris, a beer can in his hand, staring directly at you. the red cup in your hand filled with mysterious liquor was cold to the touch. clarisse was trying to hide the smile on her face as she watched you and luke lock eyes. she mumbled a fake excuse, running away to leave you alone while she tried to find silena. luke chugged the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and walking over to you.

you stood your ground, feet planted on the floor, with your arms folded across your chest. “no celebration tonight castellan?”

“not unless you want to celebrate with me,” he replied.

“shut the fuck up,” you sighed.

luke watched as your arms pushed your tits up your chest. he couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, watching your chest rise and fall as you took your breaths. he was almost tempted to burn his toast tomorrow morning just to thank the gods that you decided to wear a low-cut shirt tonight. your camp necklace was resting on top of your tits and he wanted to reach over and count the beads on your necklace. four, just one less than he has.

“i love that you’re a sore loser,” he said, pulling out the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. “makes it so easy to mess with you.”

“‘m not a sore loser,” you argued, absentmindedly pulling out the lighter in your pocket.

he was surprised by your actions. he knew you smoked, but you’d never smoked with him before. he pulled out a cigarette for you which you gladly took. you lit yours first then leaned over for him to light his own. luke shook his head, bringing up his index finger for you to come closer. he lit his cigarette with the burning end of yours, humming in appreciation when the nicotine hit his senses.

“you are,” he blew out the smoke, “but it’s adorable.”

“flirting with me isn’t gonna get you very far, castellan. you should know this by now.”

“what, you want me to be mean to you?” luke said it teasingly, but then he saw your shoulders freeze for a millisecond. he chuckled, darkly, voice dropping an octave when he spoke again. “holy shit, you’re into that.”

“none of your fucking business,” you shook your head, thankful that you had at least one substance already in your system to keep you from turning red.

“it’s hot, y/n, own it,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning a bit to face the rest of the campers. all of the younger kids were off in their own world. they knew better than to hang out with the older kids at these things. he had a cocky smile on his face when he turned to you again, “i can be mean, if you want, y’know. just say the word.”

you downed the drink, needing some sort of liquid courage if you were going to keep this conversation going. clarisse and silena were watching you and luke a few feet away and you can tell by their faces that they weren’t going to come save you from the conversation even if you begged them to. “that kind defeats the purpose, no?”

“what do you mean?”

you wiped the drop of liquor away from the corner of your lips, “having to ask you to be mean. you should just be mean without me asking.”

luke’s eyes darkened. sure, he flirted with you, but you never kept up with him before. you usually tell him to fuck off and walk away, leaving him with a head full of images of your red, embarrassed face, to keep him occupied at night. “noted.”

you shoved the empty cup into his chest, taking a puff out of your cigarette before walking away, “no need to take notes, castellan. i know you’re all talk anyway.”

iii. 'cause i'm heartless and i'm back to my ways 'cause i'm heartless.

luke was pissed. you can tell by the way his shoulders were tense. you just disarmed him during practice, the tip of your sword resting comfortably under his jaw. the title was yours again.

“say you surrender,” you taunted, pushing the sword just a little deeper on his skin, but not enough to cause any damage, “say you surrender and i’ll let you leave with some dignity.”

“this doesn’t count,” he replied, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i was distracted.”

and he was. you took your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, at around the third sparring session. the sun was beating down harshly on the both of you and the lack of a breeze in the air didn’t help. your chest was glistening with sweat and you were breathing heavily. luke took his eyes away from your moves for a second to look at your figure and you took advantage of it.

“no excuses, castellan,” you lifted his face up with your sword, “surrender.”

“fine,” he relented. he got up from his knees when you removed the sword from his jaw, “i surrender.”

“good.” you twirled your sword in your hand, walking away from him to grab a sip of water. your back was turned and luke couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the curve of your spine. your muscles were defined, no doubt due to the hours of sparring you just did, and your hair cascaded perfectly down when you pulled it out of the ponytail you had it in. he wanted to wrap it around his fist and pull it.

“fuck,” he groaned, trying to push down his hardening cock in his cargo pants. the action didn’t do anything to help. it was no use.

“what was that?” you tossed the bottle of water on the ground as you turned to face him. your eyes widened as you took in the image in front of you. luke was staring at you, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray as if he just ran his hand through it, and his pants were tight around his dick. “luke…”

fuck it, he thought.

“shut up.”

luke marched over to you, grabbing your face with a force that knocked you off balance. it was disorienting feeling his lips hungrily over yours because it felt so damn good. his hands migrated from your face down to your ass, gripping it and massaging the flesh so he could push you closer to him. you could feel his hard cock poking against your skin and you moaned at the feeling. luke wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to.

he pushed you against a tree, grinding his aching hips against yours. he could feel your wetness growing against his pants. he pulled away from your lips, turning your face to the side to give himself access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your jugular, mixing his saliva with the sweat on your skin. he started his attack on your neck, nipping, sucking, licking, everywhere he could. you couldn’t help but whimper at his actions.

against your better judgment, you pulled him away by threading your fingers through his curls. his eyes were closed, mouth agape when he knocked his forehead against yours. you tugged on the hair by the nape of his neck, “you’re not fucking me, luke.”

“fuck, okay,” he breathed out. he was horny, but he respected your wishes.

“not today,” you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. his lips followed yours, but you tutted, “but you can watch me if you let me watch you.”

“yes,” his eyes snapped open, moving away from you to give you space.

“come here,” you walked away from him, motioning him to come to the patch of grass secluded from the training area. he followed you, hissing as he tried to adjust himself in his pants. you lay on the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows. your hand slowly trailed down to your pants before you dipped your finger inside your underwear. your back arched as you felt how wet you were from the earlier interaction with luke.

luke sat at your feet, undoing his pants. he pulled out his cock; red, dripping, and angry. he felt his confidence rise when you moaned at the sight of it. his veiny hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, slowly pumping. his voice was broken as he spoke, “let me see you.”

for a moment, you were vulnerable, hesitating to expose everything to him. but luke’s face showed nothing but desire and you melted under his gaze. you shimmied out of your pants, tossing them somewhere near, before opening your legs for him to see you. your fingers pulled apart your folds, showing him your slick-covered pussy.

“prettiest fucking pussy in the world,” he groaned, watching as you circled your clit. “fucking perfect, y/n.”

his words spurred you on. you dipped two fingers inside, mewling at the stretch. luke flicked the tip of his dick, moaning at how your fingers disappeared as you pumped them inside you. he can hear your wetness loud and clear and he wanted nothing more than to slurp it up with his tongue, but he can be patient. this can be enough for now.

his hand moved faster on his dick, the muscles on his arm tensing with each stroke. he watched as you threw your head back in pleasure, admiring the marks he left on your skin. a feeling of possessiveness bloomed in his chest knowing that he marked you.

“want a taste?”

luke nodded, crawling over to your outstretched fingers while still pumping his cock. his lips hollowed to suck off your juices from your fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste. his tongue danced between your fingers, licking them clean. you watched in awe as he hungrily sucked off your fingers. there were beads of sweat trickling down the edge of his face, his curls were sticky on his forehead, and there was a look of pure bliss on his features.

“so sweet,” he whispered, letting your fingers go with a pop. “fuck, y/n.”

“luke,” you panted, continuing to get yourself off. “i’m close.”

“give it to me,” he said. his voice was nearly gone. “need it.”

there was something about luke castellan begging you to cum for him that made your head spin. you came, hard, all over your fingers while he watched you come undone. the image of you cumming, the whisper of his name leaving your lips, was going to be burned into his memory forever.

“i’m coming,” luke groaned, the veins in his neck popping out as he gritted his teeth. “open up.”

you moved closer to him, leaning down with your tongue out for him. he pumped his cock until white spurts covered your pink, patient tongue. he wanted to take a picture of you right now for later. eyes closed, makeup on your face ruined, hickeys on your neck on full display while his cum coated your tongue. you were a wet dream come to life.

luke gripped blades of grass with his other hand, trying to steady himself as he watched you swallow his load. when you opened your eyes, you opened your mouth to show him you didn’t waste a drop, and luke couldn’t do anything else but kiss you to show his appreciation.

you had avoided luke after your training session. you didn’t know what got into you doing that with him, but one thing was for sure, the tension didn’t disappear after it. it just got worse.

everywhere you went, you felt his eyes following your every move. he would stare at you, eyes narrowed, during classes or during meals. but he never did anything.

until he lost at capture the flag. you skipped the celebration, opting to stay alone in the ares cabin to avoid running into luke. the whole situation left you with so many questions that you were afraid to get the answer to. you fucked yourself in front of luke. and you liked it. there hasn’t been a day since when you didn’t think about his cock and how it would feel inside of you. it was getting pitiful how often you got off thinking about him. his sounds, his face when he came, his taste. everything.

you were getting ready for bed when you heard the door of the ares cabin slam open. you turned your head, eyes widening, when you saw luke walking towards you, kicking the door shut. he didn’t break eye contact with you as he reached the foot of your bed.

he licked his lips, “you’re avoiding me.”

“i’m not,” you lied, tugging your blanket up to cover yourself. “was just too tired to celebrate.”

“bullshit,” he ripped the blanket away from your body, “you want mean, right? i can give you mean.”

you pushed your thighs together, making him smirk.

luke got on your bed, his knees on either side of you. he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, leaving rough kisses on your skin. your hands flew up to his hair, pulling softly, “my pretty girl won’t betray me.”

it took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t talking about you. his fingers rubbed on your clit over your pajama shorts, making you arch into him. you whimpered, “luke, please.”

“nuh uh,” he pulled away from your neck, “you don’t get to say please, anymore. you’re gonna take my dick until i’m done.”

luke connected your lips. his lips were relentless against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he groaned at the feeling of your hand reaching down to palm him. he grinded his hips into your hand, lips sloppily crashing against yours. luke put all his weight on one arm, using the other one to lightly wrap his fingers around your throat. he did an experimental squeeze, growing harder when you moaned in pleasure at the pressure.

clothes were flying off both of your bodies after that. your pants drowned out the faint hum of the campers away at the campfire. luke pulled away from your lips, marking your neck again. the hickeys he left you were already fading and he hated not seeing the remnants of his time with you on your skin. he trailed the hickeys down your body, spending extra time on your plush thighs. he pried your legs open, sighing in content when your pussy welcomed his thick fingers.

he pressed his tongue against your folds, closing his eyes at the sounds of pleasure that left your lips. his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking, until you were lifting your hips up. he placed an arm across your stomach, pressing down on you to keep you still. from where you were lying, you could only see his eyes. his eyes were boring into yours, watching your reaction to learn what you liked. when his tongue darted inside of you, touching that spongy part, your face contorted in unparalleled pressure and luke knew that he needed to keep hitting that spot.

you were a mess under him. you’ve never came before unless it was your own doing, but you were dangerously close to the edge with how luke was eating your pussy. he was determined to have your wetness coat his tongue. he’d been dreaming of tasting you since you last let him. he’d been craving it.

when your thighs pressed against the side of his head, he knew it was coming. he used his thumb to draw figure eights on your clit. you came with a cry, his name repeating off your lips like a mantra, like a prayer.

luke pulled away from your pussy, wiping the wetness on his chin away with his forearm. he pumped his cock in his hand a few times, hissing at the pain of it being forgotten.

“luke,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. you clung onto him like a lifeline. “give me a second.”

he took in your state. all fucked out just from his tongue. his jaw ticked, “been givin’ you space for days, don’t think you deserve any more.”

“fuck!” you cried as his dick entered you. luke had to shut his eyes to keep himself from cumming. your pussy was so tight and so wet and so greedy for his cock. he pushed all the way in, stopping for a moment to catch his breath.

“perfect fucking pussy, like i said,” luke’s voice was hoarse as he thrusted into you. his hand grabbed one of your tits, flicking the hardened bud with his fingers. he continued to snap his hips into you as he leaned down to your ear, “been thinking about fucking you dumb with my cock.”

“been-ah- thinking about it too,” you admitted, cheeks growing red at his words. you were clawing at his back, no doubt leaving marks, “been touching myself thinking about you.”

“looks like you’re the one who’s all talk, y/n,” he was going faster now, reveling in the sounds that your connected bodies were making with each push of his cock. reminders of your first orgasm were all over his base. “made me watch you fuck your perfect pussy, then-fuck- avoiding me.”

“didn’t think you were serious with your words.”

luke pulled out of you completely. you got a good look at him for the first time. his nostrils were flared, chest heaving as he pumped his cock in his hand. he made a noise, “seems like i’m not doing my job right.”

you reached out for him, pussy tightening around nothing, “huh?”

“you’re still being smart,” luke grabbed your hips then and turned you around. you arched your back for him, giving him a view of your ass. he rubbed his hands over the flesh, slapping it. he pushed your head down on your pillow, wrapping your messy hair around his fist. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “told you, i wanted to fuck you dumb on my cock.”

he thrusted into you with fervor, skin slapping as he took you from behind. luke watched as your ass bounced sinfully against him as he pushed his cock deeper into you. with this angle, he can can push into you more easily. he was on his knees, holding your hips flush against his body. the sounds you were making as his cock found your pussy were delicious.

you were incoherent then, mumbling into your pillow, begging for him to keep going. luke wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. when your second orgasm of the night came crashing down, you screamed luke’s name loudly.

he came inside you, ropes of milky cum coating your gummy walls. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he moved your hair away to place kisses on your back.

when you both got dressed, luke left a lingering kiss on your raw lips. he left one last hickey on the side of your jaw, “training. tomorrow. don’t be late.”

#frances writes #frances song fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #i need water

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chrollohearttags · 3 months

Note

I heard you wanted some muscian Eren thirst so I'll do my best:

What if Ms. YN (back before she & Eren got matching/couple tattoos) got a custom temporary tattoo of her man's name & placed it like a tramp stamp? What if that night when she's performing with her crew she posts some spicy pics flashing the fake tattoo waiting for Eren to notice.

What if he noticed & when she gets home home & starts to undress she feels his hand travel up her body, bending her over the counter as he lifts her shirt to see his name just above her ass? Now YN's gone & awaken his need to mark her. Poor thing, she didn't expect him to damn near break her but she plans to surprise him with a cute lil permanent "E" on her ankle if this is the reaction a fake tattoo got. She ends up walking funny the next day for sure.

OMG BABES!! you’re an absolute genius 😭 I love this so bad chdkhdkd

because imagine…you’re on tour, traveling the country or it’s your first time performing internationally. Either way, you’ve been apart from Eren for quite some time. Although dancing on stage and living the dream with your girls is amazing, you miss your husband! Neither of you are strangers to extended periods of separation due to work. Long nights on the road, weeks at a time in different locations that wasn’t the home you shared together. It admittedly took its toll, in many forms…

“Yes, baby..I miss you too. I miss you so much..”

“So come home already. Please, (y/n)..I need you.”

the shrill cries and whiny pleas spilling from your beloved, EJ. The sound of the mega star rapper’s moans pouring from your phone’s speakers as he stroked himself on the end. That tight fist enclosed around his cock as he played the very vivid imagery of your previous nights together in his mind. It was quite apparent that he wasn’t taking too kindly to his wife being thousands of miles away from him. Watching you vicariously through a phone screen as he surveyed that beautiful body. Once twirling on the pole half nude and shrouded in glitter and now, completely naked and on full display for him. So egregiously horny with no shame for his blatant submission. Drooling and bucking his hips up into his enclosed fingers..

“Baby..I can’t..soon as I get home though. You know imma take care of you, daddy. Imma give you what you need..”

a statement he intended for you to follow through on. Because in the days since that very salacious phone call, he’d hand nothing but time and unbridled obsession on his hands..carefully surveying and watching your Instagram account like that of a hawk. Breaking his very own conditions on social media just to get a peak of his princess..his gorgeous wife who was fresh off of a performance with one of his respected ‘colleagues’, who’d joined the tour as well. Spinning around that metal pole with six inch Pleasers twirling in the air. A sight that he loved to witness. But alas, Eren would be met with another one. One far more savory and the catalyst for his greed and lust. The same greed and lust he’d undoubtedly take out on you the second you touched down back at the shared Miami estate!..

“You gonna give me what I need, right? That’s what you said?..so do it, give me that fucking pussy!”

tearing and ripping you out of your clothes before you could even so much as reach the staircase! Folding you over the kitchen counter with a rough hand scaling the curvature of your back. His open palm smacking roughly against your plump ass with heavy slaps…he was relentless! However, the reason for his sudden aggression wasn’t just the fact that he missed you. No!..but rather, the aforementioned sight had awoken something serious in him. The need to make love..the need to mark and claim you like that of a primal animal!

“..Rennn! Okaaay, fuck! Take it, please..”

because what he saw was a rather interesting piece of ink riddling your skin. A tattoo…and one of his name to be more specific! Something he was blissfully unaware that you had obtained. The fact alone that you had did so and behind his back nonetheless had Eren ready to pound that that tight pussy and fill it with every spilling drop of his cum until you couldn’t even walk straight. “You’re so sneaky, baby. I like that shit..didn’t think I’d see it, did you?” taunting mercilessly as he begins to rut his hips into your backside. The thunderous claps of your asscheeks against his pelvis with fluid yet deep strokes, one sharper than the next. All you could do was maintain that perfect arch and grasp for the marble countertop with all your strength to bear the sharp thrusts. But it wasn’t a reaction of misery. You loved it! You loved seeing him become so riled up at the thought of having you stamped with his seal. Clawing his fingernails into your waist and tugging you back with sharp gasps hissing in your ear.

“Tell me it’s mine, baby. Let daddy know who that shit belongs to..” the pure sex appeal dripping from his voice like that of honey. But he didn’t have to take your word for it. Because after countless rounds of rough and filthy lovemaking in every inch of the house. Taking you from the kitchen, the staircase and even the upstairs balcony for all the nights of pent up sexual frustration, you’d find yourself stumbling lopsidedly to the tattoo parlor. The shop where he’d gotten countless pieces on his own body done. Sitting upright in a chair as the artist engraved a single capital ‘E’ on your skin; right next to the diamond tennis anklet with his initials on it. Simply smirking at the thought of his reaction…and you didn’t have to wait long. Because nightfall would come around and you’d find yourselves engaging in another bout of steamy sex. This time in the comfort of your bedroom with R&B faintly thumping from the TV..pale red lighting illuminating the room and his chiseled body hovering over you. Placing tender kisses along your calf as he hoisted your leg up to his shoulder. Those movements getting lower as his rings grazed your skin. He’d whisper sweet nothings to compliment those pecks, telling you how beautiful you were but his reaction would turn from merely elated to all but ecstatic when he spotted it…

“You like it?..”

being met with a toothy smirk and the faint glint of his silver slugs on the bottom row of his teeth staring back at you. That was most certainly an understatement because he’d prove to you just how much he loved seeing you rock his name. Both physically and metaphorically..

“..that’s my girl..”

and soon, everyone else would too!

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fanficimagery · 1 year

Text

No Bone Zone

Dustin Henderson has a sister who thinks it's unfair his older friends are so attractive.

Words: 4.8K Author's Note: Stranger Things AU - Lets just pretend that Steve and Carol are still in school, only Steve is the Steve we all know and love, and Carol is still a harpy.

When your father met Claudia Henderson, you had only been two years old.

The story goes that your birth mother had thought she snagged herself the perfect man, but your father had a wandering eye, and she was a very jealous woman. So, when you were born, she left you in his capable hands and took off without a word. Enter Claudia Henderson who then fell for the struggling, single father schtick. She hadn't known what she was getting into when dating your father, but she quickly found out after she fell pregnant. This time it was your father who left, leaving Claudia to fend for herself.

It took a few years to realize you had a little brother, and when you did it took a lot of crying and tantrums to get your father to contact Claudia. He reluctantly told her you wanted to meet your brother, but since the two of you had school, it would have to wait until summer. So, one week out of the summer, Claudia Henderson would keep you in Hawkins so you could get to know your only sibling.

Over the years, you and Dustin kept in contact over the phone when he was old enough to know how to use a phone. You shared your interests with one another, telling each other all about your school experiences. You were more on the popular side of the spectrum, whereas your little brother was a total nerd and very unpopular. He admitted it hurt when other kids picked on him and you apologized for calling him a nerd, but he assured you he didn't mind it when you said it because you said it with affection.

The older you got, the more your father pulled away. Since you were old enough to take care of yourself, he treated you more like a houseguest and less like a daughter. And after one too many arguments with his late-night visitors, you called up Claudia to ask if you could finish your last year of school in Hawkins. She listened to what had been going on and immediately told you to pack your belongings. She and Dustin would make sure the room you normally used for one week out of the year would be ready for you to move into.

Dustin was more than happy to have you go to school with him but was wary of introducing you to his friends since you were on completely different sides of the popular spectrum. You promised he didn't have to do that, and he could go about his days as if you weren't there. You wouldn't hold it against him, but you would still keep an eye on him from afar because that's what big sisters did.

For the first week at Hawkins High, you pasted on a smile and took in your surroundings. You kept your word to Dustin and stayed far, but not too far away. Then when you were comfortable knowing who was who in school, you tried out for the cheer team. It was a no-brainer that the girls voted you onto the team after seeing how quickly you could pick up routines and perform the perfect tumbles, and in no time, you found yourself at the top of the totem pole where you belonged.

Over the weeks you noticed Dustin had two separate groups of friends- one who called themselves the Hellfire Club and another who consisted of a band geek, an ex-king, a creep photographer, an ex-princess and two freshmen females. The Hellfire Club made sense, but the second group was all over the place. You, however, didn't question it and were just glad Dustin had friends who looked out for him.

Unfortunately, your brother's friends consisted mostly of males. There were four females in his social circle, but none of them were as confrontational as you hoped they would be.

So, when you see Carol Perkins purposely bump into your brother and knock his tray from his hand one day, and then cruelly make remarks towards him that have his shoulders raising in embarrassment, you're up and out of your seat. Half the cafeteria had quieted when Dustin's tray clattered to the floor and then the other half quieted when you practically skipped towards the duo, your cheerleader skirt swishing from side to side.

"Hi." You beam at Carol, letting your smile lure her into a false sense of security as you come to a stop next to Dustin. From the corner of your eye, you see his shoulders droop in relief. "We haven't met yet. I'm YN LN," you tell the girl.

"Okay. And..?" Her nose wrinkles as if in distaste and your gaze goes steely.

"And I'm gonna need to apologize to Henderson here," you say. She barks out a laugh, head thrown back in amusement. A few others start to laugh along with her, but a majority smartly remain quiet as you continue to stare her down. Your smile falls and you take a step closer to her, lowering your voice and clasping your hands behind your back. It would do no one any good if you were to strike out at the female bully. "Listen, Carol, I couldn't care less about who you pick on, but you just pulled this stunt on my little brother. Now apologize, publicly, or I will make your life a living hell." The girl's smile slowly vanishes and you see her glance at Dustin a little fearfully. You slowly smirk then. "You see, I pick locks for fun. It'd probably take me a week, give or take a day or two, before I open up that closet of yours and air out all your dirty laundry. You wouldn't want that, would you, Carol?"

"You- you wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. And I'd do it with a smile on my face," you tell her a little too sweetly. When she still makes no move to apologize, you ask, "Who do you think the school's gonna rally behind? The cheerleader that everyone adores or the girl that everyone makes fun of because your middle school sweetheart is railing other girls behind your back?" She gasps and you chuckle darkly. "I might be the new girl but figuring out everyone's dirty little secrets was way too easy in your podunk little town."

Her eyes widen and she takes a few steps back. Glancing at Dustin, she says, "Sorry," before rushing away.

You smile as you watch her go, turning on your heel to follow her and then laugh when she smacks away her boyfriend's hands when he tries to check if she's okay. Then when you realize the cafeteria is still too quiet, you huff. "What?" You feign innocence. "The girl had tummy issues. It's not my fault she had to race to the bathroom."

As some of your peers laugh and the rest go back to what they were doing before Carol interrupted their lunch hour, you look back at Dustin. He's grinning at you, and you roll your eyes while reaching out to ruffle his curls. But before either of you can say anything, someone is clearing their throat.

"New friend, Henderson?" Eddie Munson is grinning behind Dustin, though his guarded gaze tells you he's trying to figure out whether your appearance is with good intentions or you were about to pick on his little sheep as well since he couldn't hear the whole conversation between you and Carol. "I didn't know Hawkins had a decent cheerleader."

"Decent?" You mock gasp, clasping your hands over your heart as if swooning. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Munson." You wink, Eddie gapes, and Dustin groans as he turns so he can see both of you.

"Please don't flirt with my friend."

You chuckle softly. "Then tell you friend to stop being so cute." Eddie's expression flickers from shocked to surprised to smug in about two seconds flat while the rest of the Hellfire table go dead silent in shock. "Now if you boys will excuse me, I got three tires to slash. Carol does not get to pick on my little brother and get away with it."

Eddie hops back a step, smirking and bending slightly at the waist as he sweeps his arm out for you to go.

"Brother?!"

"Since when does Henderson have a goddamn sister?!"

You smirk at the chaos you've just created and Dustin groans yet again. Laughing, you pinch his cheek, but before you can get too far away, Eddie asks, "Wait. Three tires? Why not all four?"

"Because insurance will cover four tires, but not three for some reason." You shrug. "I slash only three and Carol will have to pay out of pocket."

"You're diabolical," Eddie then realizes, smiling wide. "Marry me."

"No. Nope. Not happening." Dustin starts pushing you away and you wiggle your fingers in departure. As you're passing the other table with his second group of friends, you laugh at their surprised expressions. Dustin sighs, stops, and quickly introduces you. "Guys, this is YN. She's my sister." He then shoves you aside. "Now off you go. If you need an alibi, let me know."

"Will do, baby bro." Then raising your voice so those around you can hear, you say, "And if anyone gives you any trouble, come to me. I'll set them straight."

You leave the cafeteria with your fellow peers whispering about the new information you just dropped on them, happy with the chaos you no doubt just created. You expect some to not take a liking to the fact that you're related to someone in the Hellfire Club, but you're more than ready for the backlash.

You're a little surprised that it doesn't take long to be cornered by Jason Carver and his basketball goons, but you surprise them right back by not cowering to his intensity. He calls you a freak lover and a cult member and that you don't deserve to wear the school colors. You laugh in his face, press back into his personal space and tell him the same thing you'd told Carol. You match his intensity and promise all sorts of problems for anyone messing with your brother and his friends.

"You're psycho," he realizes as he watches you go from sweet to angry and back to sweet.

"And don't you forget it," you tell him. "Your final year at Hawkins High can be easy peasy, Carver, so long as you stop being a dick. If I see or even hear about you bullying the Hellfire club, we're gonna have problems." He scoffs and you chuckle. "Don't believe me? Just keep an eye on Carol Perkins. You'll learn."

You go about your day as if it were any other day, answering questions here and there to those curious about your relationship to Dustin. The cheerleaders don't really have a problem about who you associate with and you're majorly shocked when Jason's own girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham, explains how relieved she is that someone finally stuck up for the Hellfire Club. She's heard numerous rumors about the club and a connection to satanic worship, so she's greatly relieved when you explain to her exactly what Dungeons and Dragons actually is.

Then at the end of the day, you skip to your car without a care in the world and mentally cackle when you see Carol being consoled by her bully of a boyfriend as a tow truck loads up her car with three flat tires. You catch Jason's eye then, winking as he gapes between the scene of the crime and your seemingly innocent self.

Over the next couple of weeks, you slowly let your authentic self bleed in with your cheerleader persona. Gone are the pastels, your girl next door vibe is edgier than anyone had anticipated, and you take great pleasure in the jocks not knowing what to think of you. Jason and his little band of bullies still openly sneer at you and the others they deem different, but they never make Carol's mistake of getting physical.

Then again, Jason's open hostility could be because Chrissy becomes your best friend and publicly smiles at or greets those in Hellfire Club that her boyfriend once tormented.

During Christmas break, Claudia's sister has an accident and needs help around her house. She doesn't like the idea of leaving Dustin during the holiday break, but you persuade her to go- much to Dustin's excitement- while you keep an eye on things in Hawkins. She's unsure of leaving the both of you, but you assure her everything will be okay. And then once she's gone, you and Dustin start making plans since you have the house to yourselves.

"I'm gonna see if Hellfire wants to continue our current campaign here since mom's gone."

"That's fine. I'll probably have Chrissy over for a sleepover. Poor girl needs to get out more."

"Cool."

So that's how you find yourself in your room later that evening, cleaning up and piling pillows and blankets on an air mattress on the floor so your friend has a comfortable place to sleep. Dustin and his friends have been downstairs for hours, the rambunctious bunch being louder than you anticipated, but it brought a smile to your face knowing your little brother found a place to belong.

After a while, you turn off your radio and realize it's a little too quiet.

Heading downstairs and peeking into the den, you're surprised to see Dustin collecting empty bowls and glasses, and Eddie stowing away items from the game they just played. "Hey, losers." Both look up, causing you to grin as you lean against the den archway. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Gone. Campaign ended early," your brother says. "Why? What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm about to go pick up Chrissy, some food, and a movie. I was going to see if anyone wanted to stick around, but I guess I'm too late." Dustin looks surprised that you'd include his friends and then your gaze darts to Eddie. Arching an eyebrow at him, you ask, "You in?"

"Depends. What's the movie?" He wonders.

"Goonies."

"And food?" Dustin then asks.

"Pizza."

"What about dessert?" Eddie muses.

You chuckle, making it obvious that you're looking him up and down as you bite the bottom corner of your lip. "Me hopefully."

Eddie's jaw drops open in surprise as Dustin groans. "You're disgusting!" Then out of nowhere, he produces a water bottle and spritzes it at you. "Stop hitting on my friends."

You flinch, looking at your brother in shock before both you and Eddie erupt with laughter. As Dustin continues to try and spritz you, you dodge the stream of water. "It's not my fault! You're supposed to have friends who look like gangly Wheeler and bashful Byers!" You hide behind Eddie, using him as a shield. "You're not supposed to have friends who look like Eddie or Steve or hell, even Robin. It's not fair to my hormones!"

"Your hormones need to be locked up tight!"

Laughing, you run out from behind Eddie and out of reach from Dustin and the spray bottle. "Okay. Fine. No hooking up with your friends."

"Damn," Eddie mumbles, which earns him a quick spritz of water as well. He yelps and you continue to giggle.

"Okay, okay. Serious time here," you say while calming down. "Are you boys good with pepperoni or do you have any special requests?"

"Get a meat lovers," Dustin says.

Eddie shrugs. "I'm good with whatever."

"Alright. You boys wash the dishes from your game night, and I'll be back with Chrissy and food."

Eddie watches you go with a smile, still not moving even after the front door closes at your departure. It isn't until Dustin spritzes him with water yet again does he startle from his mental musing. "What?"

"Don't even think about it. That's my sister, man."

He rolls his eyes, but smirks nonetheless. "Can you blame me? Your sister's hot, Henderson." Dustin raises the water bottle again and Eddie's hands fly up in surrender. "Chill out. Besides, it's all just fun and games. I'd be a lucky guy if your sister meant everything she said. But even if she did, I doubt she'd do that to you. Hell, I wouldn't even do that to you. You were my friend first. I get she's off limits. Whatever's going on between us is just for laughs."

"Yeah, yeah." Dustin stows the bottle away, sighing. "Help me clean up and make the living room cozy. The Goonies is her favorite movie so don't be surprised if she recites her favorite parts."

. . . .

One right after the other, you and Chrissy walk into Family Video still giggling. You had told her about Dustin spritzing you and Eddie like you were cats in heat, and she found it absolutely hilarious. Her laughter set off your laughter and you just couldn't stop.

"You girls are cutting it awfully close," Steve calls out. "We're closing in twenty minutes."

As you glance up, you see him wiping down the counter while Robin restocks the candy shelves. "Heya, Harrington. I already know what I'm looking for, so it'll only take a sec."

Chrissy is still giggling as you grab her by the wrist, tugging her towards where you know various copies of the Goonies reside. Grabbing one, you then tug her back towards the front counter.

When Steve sees what you're renting, he huffs a laugh. "Again?"

"Yep." You hand him the movie. "Chris has never seen it. I don't think Eddie has either."

"Munson?" Steve's brow furrows as he enters the movie information into your account. "Are you having a movie night or something?"

"Yeah. You and Robin should come if you're up to it," you tell him. You then glance at Robin when her head whips in your direction. "It's just gonna be me, Chris, Eddie and Dustin. After we leave here, we're gonna go pick up some pizzas."

"Dustin's mom is letting everyone hang so late at night?"

"Claudia's gone for the next few days," you tell her, grinning. When you hear the cash register make a noise, you quickly glance at Steve to see that Chrissy's paid for the movie. You roll your eyes but let her have this win. "So, are you guys in or not?"

"Uh yeah. I don't have any plans," Steve says. "Robin?"

"I'm in too. I like the Goonies."

"Excellent." You grin. "I'm picking up two pizzas- a meat lovers and pepperoni. Are you guys good with that or do you want something else?"

"I, uh, I actually like supreme," Steve says.

"Same," Robin sheepishly admits.

"That's fine. I can pick up a third," you tell them.

"And don't worry about drinks. Steve's got it," Robin says.

You laugh as Steve grumbles but assures you he's got the drinks as you and Chrissy take your leave.

. . . .

When you get back to your house, Chrissy keeps hold of the movie while grabbing her overnight bag. You grab all three pizza boxes from the back seat and then head inside with your friend following you.

"And we're back," you shout as soon as the door is closed behind you. You smile at Chrissy as she stands next to you, looking around and keeping quiet. You see Dustin round the corner and he reaches for the pizza that you pull back just out of his reach. "Nope. We have to wait for Steve and Robin. They should be here in a little bit."

Dustin smiles, happy to have Steve over, but then his eyes narrow at you. "I see what you're doing, inviting the people you think are attractive."

Chrissy giggles as you smile at him. "It's a wet dream come true. Right, Munson?" You then direct the question at him, winking when he rounds the corner.

"Oh my god!" Dustin groans, grossed out. Chrissy squeaks next to you and you glance at her to see the apples of her cheeks tinting red. "Look! You're even grossing out your friend," Dustin then says.

Laughing, you hold all three pizza boxes in one hand and use your free arm to sling around her shoulders. "Relax, Chris. Eddie knows I'm only messing with him. And besides, Dustin already strictly forbade me from hooking up with his older friends."

Dustin grabs the boxes from you, marching off towards the kitchen. As soon as he's out of earshot, Chrissy asks, "So what's going to happen when your brother no longer cares about you hooking up with them?"

"Yeah, YN, what then?" Eddie asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Your ass is mine, Munson. That's what's gonna happen."

Chrissy barks out a laugh, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle the following giggles. Eddie laughs as well and then gestures for Chrissy to follow him. "Come on, Cunningham, let's get the movie all set up."

As Chrissy follows Eddie, you walk into the kitchen to find your brother pulling down plates. His expression is schooled so you don't know how he's currently feeling and it makes your heart ache just a little to know that you possibly hurt him by insinuating you'd hook up with his friends when he didn't approve of it.

"Hey," you call out softly. Dustin glances at you, his answering smile forced. Sighing softly, you step further into the kitchen until you're side by side with him and gather napkins. "You know I'd never actually hook-up with any of your friends, right? I wouldn't do that to you."

"You wouldn't?" His skepticism does you in and you smile sadly at him before turning to pull him into a hug.

"No, kid, I wouldn't. You come first. Always. And if you say Eddie is off limits, then he's off limits. Promise."

"M'kay." He pulls back then, smirking. "Steve and Robin are too. Don't think I didn't hear you mention them earlier."

Laughing, you tug on one of his curls. "Fine. Steve and Robin too."

"Steve and Robin too what?" The voice startles both you and Dustin, and you turn to see the two in question standing in the kitchen archway.

You shrug. "That you, Robin, and Eddie are officially in the no bone zone." Steve and Robin's eyes widen, and Dustin giggles at them while you grin unabashedly at them. "I'm a teenage girl, Harrington. Of course I noticed how hot my little brother's friends are. He was just setting down some ground rules." The two continue to gape at you and you roll your eyes. "Calm down. I'm sure it's not the first time a girl admitted to finding you attractive."

"No, but it is a first for me," Robin mutters.

"Yeah," you sigh. "People suck. But if you wanna hear it again, you're hot, Buckley. Own it."

As Robin perks up, Steve chuckles at her. "Now that our attractiveness is settled, we were promised pizza and a movie."

"Yeah. Of course." Then raising your voice, you say, "Chrissy, Eddie, come and grab a plate!"

Everyone crams into the kitchen, grabbing a plate to load up pizza slices and then grabbing a can of Cola from the bag that Steve had brought. You all take your food and drink into the living room, everyone settling down in whatever space they can find. Dustin ends up on the floor with Robin, using the coffee table to their advantage. Steve takes the armchair and you end up between Eddie and Chrissy on the sofa.

Though you've seen the Goonies numerous times, it never fails to make you laugh. And then when Sloth's introduction comes up, you can't help blurting, "That's the character that reminds me of Dustin." Your friends all chuckle and you end up with a throw pillow to the face in retaliation from your little brother.

You end up silently reciting Chunk's confession to the Fratelli's, earning a chuckle from Eddie who'd been watching you. There are a few other scenes that you mumble along to, but for the most part you remain quiet so the others can enjoy the movie. And then by the time it's over, you're happy to hear that everyone enjoyed it- Eddie included since he was the most skeptical of liking it.

You offer for Robin to spend the night with you and Chrissy, but unfortunately, she has family obligations she has to deal with the following day.

By the time school is back in session, you've toned down the obvious flirty comments to Eddie and distanced yourself a bit from those Dustin had befriended first. He completely understands your reasoning and there's no hard feelings.

Instead, you spend most of your time with Chrissy who has decided to take a break from Jason. The school's top athlete didn't take too kindly to his girlfriend wanting some space from him, so he took out his frustrations on you.

Well, on those close to you since he knew it wouldn't be good for his image to be seen harassing a girl.

You and Chrissy, along with a few other friends, are eating lunch a few tables down from the Hellfire table when you hear a commotion. Glancing towards it, you're not surprised to find Jason and his closest friends standing at the end of the Hellfire table being the ones responsible.

Whatever's going on, you can't hear but can see the frustration on the faces of your friends. The jocks, however, are smug as can be and laughing among themselves.

Then all of a sudden, Jason speaks loud for all to hear. "I got fifty bucks," he reaches into his back pocket, pulling free his wallet, "that not one girl in this cafeteria would willingly kiss any of you freaks."

The bet laid out before the students of Hawkins High is meant to embarrass those in Hellfire, but the boys are not known for backing down. Immediately they look to Mike and Lucas- two boys who are known to have girlfriends- but when they glance at Jane and Max, Max scowls at Lucas and flips them off.

The jocks laugh and just as they're about to embarrass Hellfire even more, Dustin stands up. The cafeteria quietens and the jocks grin. "YN!" Your brother calls out to you.

"What?" You call back, smirking as everyone's gaze darts between the two of you.

"You remember that thing I forbid you from doing?"

"Maybe!" Next to you, Chrissy giggles. She knows very well what Dustin forbid you from doing because she was the unfortunate soul that you whined to frequently about it.

"Well, I'm lifting the rule for thirty seconds. Make them count!"

The jocks frown as your leering gaze slides to Eddie. He arches an eyebrow at you, and you laugh before standing up. Immediately, Eddie pushes back from the table, still seated in his chair, and the rest of those in Hellfire are just as confused as the jocks.

"What the hell is going on?" Jason asks as you near.

"I just became fifty bucks richer," you tell him, snatching the crisp bill from his fingers. Then continuing on towards Eddie, you plop yourself sideways on his lap while loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. "Told you your ass was gonna be mine."

You end up smothering Eddie's laughter when you kiss him, ignoring the sudden wolf whistles and loud ruckus the Hellfire club members are making by pounding their fists on the table. You groan when his hand squeezes your thigh and then whimper when he licks into your mouth.

You're not sure how much time has passed when you feel a hand on your shoulder, pushing you away from Eddie's mouth. "Okay, okay. Break it up. You officially grossed out Jason and myself."

You laugh at your brother's words, but you can't tear your gaze away from Eddie's kiss swollen lips. With one hand still cradling his jaw, you let your thumb swipe just beneath his bottom lip. "Knew you'd be a good kisser, Munson."

"Right back at 'ya, sweetheart."

"Gross." You glance at Dustin, watching as his nose wrinkles. "You can get off his lap now."

"Or.." you trail off, holding up the fifty dollar bill, "you can take this money and let me make out with your friend for the rest of the day."

Eddie snorts, but your brother actually takes a moment to think about it. Knowing he's going to cave, you hold the money out further to him. "Only making out?"

"Only making out," you assure him.

"Fine. Whatever." He snatches the money from you. "But not in the cafeteria. I'm still trying to eat."

"Right. Got it!" You stand up, holding out a hand for Eddie. "Let's go, Munson! I'm pretty sure the back of your van is private enough."

Laughing, Eddie takes your hand and shrugs at his gaping friends. "What? Who am I to deny a pretty girl?"

#stranger things gen fic x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #dustin henderson #eddie munson #jason carver #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #stranger things

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

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Chapter 1- I D.A.R.E. You

Summary: After starting your new job as a 3rd grade teacher at Alma Pierce Elementary School, you meet a handsome Javier Peña who has been forced to come give a presentation to your grade. Although you've never met him, you're shocked to find out you may have more in common than you'd think.

Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past work for the DEA, mentions of death and grief, language, financial compensation if you were subjected to the D.A.R.E program as a child, Javi's family friends giving him sass

Word count: 6.2K

A/N: Post Season 3 Javi lives forever in my brain, as the first chapter of this story takes place in Laredo, May of 1997. This man deserves love, and boy is he going to get it.

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“It’s your lucky day, Peña!”

Javier glanced up from the pile of paperwork scattered across his desk to acknowledge the voice coming from the doorway to his office.

“What do you want, Carter?”

Javier's voice half grunted in response, his eyes shifting back down to the pile of papers on his desk. In his doorway stood his office mate, Detective Eric Carter. When Javier began his new position with the Laredo County Sheriff's Department 4 months ago, it took everything in him to keep from calling his new co-worker Steve. At a glance, he looked just like his old DEA partner. Tall, lanky, with a wiry head of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. 30 seconds into meeting Carter, it didn’t take long to realize looks were about the only thing he and Steve Murphy had in common. Eric Carter was a human ray of fucking sunshine, and his chipper demeanor was blinding Javier this early in the morning.

“It’s your turn!” Carter replied in a sing-songy voice, slapping a red file folder onto Javier’s desk, covering the papers he had been sorting through. Javier picked up the folder and crinkled his brows in confusion. He turned the cover towards him, holding it just far enough away so that his squint trying to read its contents wasn’t too obvious. God, he just needed to give up and buy reading glasses already.

As he got the folder just the right distance away from his face, he gave Carter a look that said absolutely fucking not. The folder read D.A.R.E school assembly lessons, with a picture of the Lion mascot giving a big thumbs up in his black D.A.R.E shirt. The office had recently been recruited by Laredo Public School District to start giving presentations to the Elementary schools, using the program aptly abbreviated for Drug Abuse Resistance Education.

“Just take away the “R” and rearrange some letters and it spells DEA!” Carter laughed to himself. “It’s like it was made for you!”

“No.”

“Sorry Peña, you’re bottom of the totem pole this week. We’ve all done our time, and you’re the last one left in the office who has yet to go present. It’s not even that bad, you just basically go talk to these kids for an hour and tell them drugs are bad, don’t do them, yadda, yadda, yadda, you get the gist, and then it’s done. Piece of cake!”

“I’m not fucking going.” Javier scoffed. “I have shit I have to get done.” Gesturing in annoyance to the piles of papers on his desk, now in disarray from the folder being thrown on his desk.

“Not a choice, Mr. Peña.”

A new voice passed by the doorway, and a much broader frame stood behind Carter’s. Chief Deputy Dean Morris, had joined the conversation, knowing that it wouldn’t end easily for Detective Carter if he kept harassing Javier about it. Morris was head of the department, and what he said, went. Coming from a background in the Air Force, Morris knew how “civilian” a position at a sheriff’s department must have felt for Javier after his time in the DEA. 5 years ago, it seemed fair to think that neither of them would have assumed paperwork, mundane training programs, and now, arguing over talking to 10 year olds about the dangers of doing drugs would have played any importance in their jobs.

“Right of passage. Ever since the school board dropped this on us last year, we’ve all done our time. Believe me, no one wants to do it, but like Carter said, today is your lucky day!” Morris’s voice oozed with sarcasm, knowing that Javier would absolutely hate every second of what he was about to have to do.

“You lucked out on your day to go too, Peña. It looks like you get to go to the school with the hot teach-OW! Hey! What was that for?!” Morris had slapped Carter’s shoulder before he could get out the rest of his sentence.

“Keep it in your pants, okay Carter?”

Carter let out a huff of defeat. “I’m just saying, he could have gotten worse days to go…”

“Just read from the notes, let the kids ask a couple of questions at the end and then you’re on your way. Easy peasy. When you get to the school office they’ll let you know where to go.”

Javier opened his mouth to rebuttal, but before he could even get out a word, Morris held up his hand to stop him.

“Not a choice. I’ll have Carter help you finish sorting paperwork, so don’t try to bullshit me and tell me that you have too much work to get done.”

Javier let out a sigh of frustration that was a little louder than he intended it to be. His hands rested on his forehead as he rubbed the bridge of his nose before replying.

“Fine. But this is one and done.”

“Good man.” Morris reached over Javier’s desk and gave him a pat on the shoulder. He and Carter started to make their way out of Javier’s office when Morris turned his head over the back of his shoulder.

“Carter’s right about the teacher, too. She’s a catch.” He winked and shut the door behind him.

Javier gathered his things and made his way through the office, passing by Detective Carter’s desk.

“Have funnnnnnn! Say ‘hi’ to the hot teacher for me!” Carter mocked, twinkling his fingers, waving at Javier.

Without saying a word, Javier flipped him off, and kept walking.

Settling into his truck, Javier set down his belongings in his passenger seat, and opened up the red file folder to see where his unexpected journey was taking him.

This is fucking ridiculous He mouthed to himself as he cranked up the AC in the truck with one hand, and rummaged the other through the items on the seat. Reaching next to him, he grabbed and opened the folder, and grazed his index finger down the inside cover, where a schedule of schools, dates, and times were printed. At the bottom, he found

5/27/97- Alma Pierce Elementary School, 12:00-12:30 pm, school cafeteria

Javier’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. He read the line several times, re-checking the location and date to make sure what he read was true.

Fuck.

To any of his other co-workers who had been tasked with giving one of these D.A.R.E. presentations, the elementary school they were assigned to that day most likely held little to no significance. Of course, out of the 16 elementary schools in the Laredo Public School District, Javier was assigned to the one that held the most significance to him.

The school that his mother taught at for her entire teaching career before she passed away.

Since returning home from Colombia, Javier had been avoiding human contact like the plague. He had returned as somewhat of a “hometown hero” after his accomplishments with the DEA but couldn’t have felt further from it. He had become Laredo’s hottest topic.

“What was it like to help catch Escobar?! The Cali Cartel?!”

“We’re so proud of you, the DEA couldn’t have done it without you!”

“When are you going to come over and tell us all about Colombia? We want to know everything!”

Each question, compliment and conversation about his time in South America was like a knife to his heart, slowly twisting with each word that came out of someone’s mouth. He could feel the guilt and burden of his time away growing heavier and heavier as he politely smiled through these conversations.

But worse than the strangers who felt entitled to berate Javier about his time in Colombia, were his friends and family who he had been actively avoiding since returning home. Besides his father, Javier hadn’t seen anyone close to him since his mother’s funeral 8 years ago. It hurt Javier knowing that he had returned to Laredo a changed man, haunted by the things he had seen and done. His mother’s closest friends, those that she worked with at Alma Pierce Elementary School, had promised to fulfill Lucia Peña’s dying wish that they would look out for Javi and made sure that he came home okay.

Well, Javier was home. He wasn’t quite sure how to break it to them that he wasn’t really okay.

As he drove and parked in front of the school building, Javier’s heart began to beat heavier in his chest. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he started at the entrance to the school. He couldn’t decide if the feeling swirling around in his stomach was comfort or terror, knowing that Alma Pierce Elementary looked exactly the same as it did the last time he was here 9 years ago with his mother.

He did know that part of that feeling definitely had to be terror, as he began to think about the fact he was about to be interrogated relentlessly by his late mother’s closest friends. Might as well sign these women up to work for the DEA- they were probably more terrifying than anyone Javier had encountered in his time working there.

After a few more deep breaths, Javier gathered his things out of his truck and headed towards the main doors. Each footstep felt like he was walking through wet cement, questioning if it was too late to turn around.

Practically tip toeing in to the office, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible, Javier let out a soft “Hi, I’m from the sheriff's department, I’m here for-“

Before he could even finish his sentence, the office secretary, a tiny and graying Señora Gutierez was thrusting her arms across the threshold of the office desk to wrap Javier in an impressively strong hug.

“JAVIER PEÑA. I cannot believe it’s you! oh my sweet mijo, look at you! The older you get, the more like Chucho you look, dios mio! Why haven’t you stopped by?! We have all missed you so much, what have you been doing? It is so good to see you!”

Here we go.

“Hola, Señora.” Javier half grunted from how tight he was being squeezed. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“I have lots to ask but I know you need to go, or they will know that this old woman has been running her mouth, making you late.” Señora Gutiérrez began shooing her hand, as to send Javier on his way.

Javier chuckled. He felt his body begin to ease slightly, letting the familiarity of friendly faces bring him a small sense of comfort.

“I would hope after this VERY LONG time that you have not been to see your mamà’s dearest friends, you still remember where the cafeteria is?” She gave Javier a playful grin.

“Sí, Señora.”

“Everyone will be so happy to see you, mi amor. Now go, or everyone will be after me for keeping you!”

Grabbing his things, Javier made his way down the bustling hallway. Tiny faces stared up at his, as he shuffled his way towards the cafeteria doors. There, he was greeted by a sea of children chatting amongst themselves and 3 smiling faces, patiently waiting for his arrival.

“JAVI!”

Out of any of the faces he was bound to see today, these were the 3 he would recognize anywhere. The ladies who stood before him were the fellow 3rd grade teachers who had taught alongside his mother for almost 20 years.

The ladies surrounded him in a bear hug, Javier quietly noting to himself that he had definitely reached his hug quota for the next several weeks.

“It’s so good to see you, Javi.” The first of the 3 women spoke, her words sweet like honey. Linda Garcia was short and stout, her gray bangs brushing over the brim of her glasses as she looked up at Javier. Linda had always had a soft spot for Javi, and reminded him the most of his mother.

“It’s good to see you t-“

“PENDEJO. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! WHY HAVE YOU NOT CALLED?! WE SWORE TO YOUR LATE MOTHER THAT WE WOULD TAKE CARE OF YOU, AND IF IT WASN’T FOR CHUCHO KEEPING US UPDATED TH-”

“Maria, let the boy breathe, this is the first time you’re seeing him in years, and this is the route you’re going to take? Dios Mio.”

Standing next to Linda were her 2 partners in crime, Maria Rogers and Estelle Lopez.

If you didn’t know Maria Rogers, you would be shocked to see the ferocity that came out of such a tiny woman. Javier’s mother used to refer to her “el vòlcan”- a matching nickname for her fiery personality.

Estelle, on the other hand, was one of the most soft spoken people that Javier had ever meant. If she had something to say, he knew it was time to listen.

“Hi everyone, it’s really great to see all of you.” Javier meant it. As overwhelmed and flustered as he was, it brought him peace to know after the hell that these last 8 years had been, some things never change.

“MRS. ROGERSSSSSSS. WHEN IS THIS GONNA START?! I’M HUNGRY AND I KNOW LUNCH IS AFTER THIS.”

“BE QUIET, MICHAEL. YOU KNOW WE’RE STILL WAITING FOR ONE MORE CLASS. YOU’RE SO ANNOYING.”

“AM NOT!”

“AM TOO!”

Chatter and fidgeting amongst the 3rd graders instantaneously increased, the crowd of children now growing restless.

“Oi, these niños will be the death of me, thank goodness this school is almost done.” Maria mumbled under her breath, the other 2 teachers rolling their eyes and laughing in agreement. “We’re just waiting on one more class, but they should be here any minute.”

Overhearing the conversations shouted across the cafeteria, Agent Carter’s voice wandered through Javier’s thoughts.

“You get the school with the hot teacher!”

Obviously, Carter was not referring to the 3 women who stood before him. Although he wasn’t one for crude office banter, Javier couldn’t help but wonder if Carter’s statement really held true. With a genuine curiosity and a slight smirk on his face, he leaned back, arms crossed and asked, “Yeah wait, there’s still four 3rd grade teachers right?”

The women all shot him a look that took him aback, their eyes burning a hole though Javier.

“Jesus, you men really have a one track mind don’t you. Yes, I’m sure all of your friends from the department have been more than happy to tell you about our new teacher who just joined us. She is a sweet girl, and I am sure she is sick of getting harassed by all of you.”

“Maria, I was just asking a quest-“

“Javier Jesus Peña, I have known you since before you were born. Wipe that smug look off your face, I know exactly why you asked the question”.

Yup, things haven’t changed a bit.

Before he could retort, the cafeteria doors began to swing open, followed by a long line of children, and you.

“1, 2, 3, eyes on me!”

“1, 2, eyes on you!

God, the amount of times you’d had to repeat that phrase as the end of the school year approached, you might as well have gotten it tattooed on your forehead.

“Okay 3rd graders, we’re already 5 minutes late for our assembly, and I’m sure the other classes are not going to be happy that we’re holding them up, and probably making us late for lunch after”

The chatter stopped. With only a few days left in the school year, you were running out of ammunition to keep your class’s attention. At least the threat of being late to unch would work for now.

A little hand shot up from the middle of the line you were about to trail down the hallway, like a mother duck with her babies following in line. “What’s your question, Jaun?”

“Do you know if it’s gonna be the same guy as last time? He was kind of scary.” Mumbles of agreement came from the voices surrounding him. The Laredo Sheriff's Department had sent in a slew of their employees each week for these presentations, and you had been convinced none of them had ever even attempted to talk to a child. Last week’s presenter, Martin, Michales, something like that, had spent the large time of his presentation talking about getting murdered by the Cartel, leading to tears from many of your students, and a prompt request to not have him back.

“I don’t know sweetie, it seems like there’s someone new who comes every week, but I sure hope it’s not him.” The class let out a small giggle. These were the moments you loved about your job as a teacher, especially now that you had moved to an older grade where your kids finally picked up on your subtle jokes with them.

You had been with your class since after Christmas break, filling in as a long term sub for a 3rd grade teacher on maternity leave. The job followed an impromptu move from Chicago to Texas after breaking off your relationship with your boyfriend (regrettably, almost fiancé) of 3 years, who had been cheating on you behind your back for 2 of them. You felt like an idiot that you hadn’t seen it coming, but it still hit you like a ton of bricks. Paul had plenty of red flags, but your optimistic demeanor and the mounting peer pressure of watching your friends get married and start their own families made you feel trapped. It still stung to think you would have settled for a miserable life with Paul out of the fear you wouldn’t find anyone else.

Desperate to get as far away from Illinois as possible, you packed your bags and made the nearly 4 day drive down to Laredo, Texas. Laredo, a strange choice to many, but made nothing but complete sense to you. Your best friend since the 2nd grade, Sarah Alverez, had moved to Laredo your Freshman year of high school, her father accepting an agricultural engineering position in ranching country. You spent every summer until college visiting her and her family, having nothing but the fondest of memories for a sleepy town outside of San Antonio. It was a stark chance from the hustle and bustle of Chicago suburbia where you had spent your childhood. Long, carefree summer days made you promise yourself that if you ever did leave Chicago, you’d find yourself here. Well, you had made good on your promise, but for reasons that still made your stomach churn in gut-wrenching knots.

You and your class journeyed down the hallway to the cafeteria. Thank god it was a short trip, because you were far too tired to put up with the bickering and shenanigans the back of your line often seemed to plague you with. Just as you were entering through the cafeteria doors, you promptly turned around, your body facing the line as you walked backwards further into the cafeteria. “Isabella and Jorge, keep your hands to yourself! You two know you’re not supposed to be in line togeth-” Before you could finish your sentence, the back of your body collided with one behind you that you hadn’t seen since turning around to stop a near WWE smackdown in the hallway. You had bumped into kids more than once who weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, but it became very clear, very quickly, that the body you had backed yourself into was not a child’s.

The body you had backed yourself into was much taller and broader than yours. Two large hands firmly, but gently grasped around the middle of your upper arms to catch you without stumbling backwards any further. An overwhelming scent of cedarwood and sage cologne filled your senses. This obviously was not one of your coworkers, either.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorr-“ you started to apologize as you came to face the body that had stopped you in your tracks. Your apology halted as you were met by incredibly broad shoulders covered by a navy blue suit jacket. As your gaze continued upwards, the shoulders were followed by a strong square jawline and plush lips, the upper covered with an impeccable mustache. Continuing up, you were met with the most beautiful, deep chocolate brown eyes, whose soft stare soon met yours. There was no denying that this man was devilishly handsome. Realizing that you had most definitely been starting too long, you restated your apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were behind me.” Your eyes shifted away from his and darted down to the floor.

A small smirk formed on his face as he looked down at you. He didn’t realize it, but he couldn’t help it. You were wearing a yellow sun dress that hit just above your knees, covered by a light washed denim jacket. Your dress swayed beautifully as he watched you take your last few steps backwards, making him question himself if he let you run into him on purpose. You smelled like vanilla and something sweet that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Pink embarrassment flooded your cheeks as a soft smile on your face met his. He now too realized that he had been staring a little too long, and that he still had his grasp on your arms as you had turned around to look at him.

“No it’s okay.” He let out a small laugh under his breath. “I just didn’t want you to go too much further and trip over anything else.” He gently let his hands leave her arms, and watched as she brushed a piece of hair out of her face and looked back up at him.

“Should we go sit down now?!” A small voice shouted from your line, causing you to snap back to reality, realizing that you had a line of children still standing behind you.

“Yes, sorry sweetie” you replied, brushing your dress down back into place. “You guys can go find a spot behind Mrs. Rogers’ class.” Your class passed by you, paying no mind to the interaction that just took place between you and the man you had just bumped into.

As you watched your class pass by, you turned back around to find the man still staring at you, causing your heart to palpably beat in your chest. The same strong hands that had caught you were now extended in your direction, offering a handshake to introduce himself. “I’m Javier Peña, uh Javi, actually” as your hand met his, realizing how small they felt in his grip. “I’m from the Laredo Sheriff's department, I uh, I’m the one that’s supposed to be doing the whole presentation thing today.” Your hand stayed in his as you introduced yourself. God, his hands were something else.

His grip loosened as your co-workers began to move towards you. You began to realize how hot your face felt, knowing that you were flushed with embarrassment not only from almost falling into a crowd of 10 year olds, but from how awe struck you were by the man who had caught you.

The three women on your 3rd grade team had taken you in as one of their own when you started your job here. They had been more than happy to step in to help you with whatever you needed, including trying to set you up with every single man your age that they knew. With the exception of the parade of overly forward sheriff's department members who had been at your school every Wednesday. Those 3 had no problem telling those men to fuck right off and leave you alone (in the nicest way possible.) The ladies slowly crept closer towards you, sly grins stretched across their faces as they giggled like school girls.

“OH, so it looks like you met our sweet Javier!” Linda said with over exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Sweetie, you’re SO good with the technology around here, you know how us old ladies are. Maybe you could help him set up the video he needs for his presentation today?” You knew damn well these women knew how to press play on a VCR. You grimaced your face at Maria. While you couldn’t see your face, you were absolutely positive your expression was screaming “Oh my God, could you please make it any more obvious that this man is insanely attractive and you don’t need to add to the embarrassment after I already ran into him like an idiot?!”

“Yeah, of course, I’d be more than happy to help!” You pointed towards the stage that sat in front of the cafeteria. “Just come this way and I’ll show you how to set it up.”

Following behind you, Javier leaned his head down towards yours. “Must be the most complicated VCR set up I’ve seen in a while.”

You let out a giggle. “Yeah, they're all very sweet, but not the most skilled with anything that has to do with technology. When our principal had mentioned the idea of us potentially getting a computer lab, they just about had a heart attack. Setting up the TV to play a video should be no problem.” You gestured towards the stage at the front of the cafeteria where the TV cart was kept for presentations. He followed behind you, keeping a respectful distance. Not respectful enough to keep himself from staring at the curve of your ass in your dress as you walked up the stage stairs.

“Do you have the tape you need to show?” Your words went in one ear and out the other. Carter and Morris weren’t kidding. He hated to admit that those idiots were right about anything, but God, you were beautiful. His gaze was locked on you as squatted down next to the VCR, ejecting its previous contents. It seemed in that moment that you very much both realized that when Javier stood in front of you, you eye level with his waist, staring up at him, dangerously close to his coc-

“Uh, yeah, yeah sorry,” he shook his head slightly to snap himself out of the thought he was about to have. “Thanks.” he smiled sheepishly.

“Well I’m no technology expert, but all you should have to do is press play wherever you need to, and you should be good to go! Let me just roll this cart out for you and we’re good for you whenever you’re ready!” You began pushing the cart out onto the stage, but before you could get anywhere, Javi had his hand over yours.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure it’s probably heavy, I can push it.” He insisted.

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a look that made him step away.

“What, you think I can’t do it?” Defiantly, you pushed the cart out to the middle of the stage to prove a point, looking back at him and shrugging with an “I told you so” look on your face. Any other woman he had met would have thankfully given up the task, let alone offer to do it at all. At that moment, Javier Peña knew you were not just any other woman. And that- that terrified him in the best way possible.

Just before you hopped off the edge of the stage to re-join your class, you looked up at him as he ran his fingers through his locks of thick, curly brown hair, trying to regain his composure.

“Good luck up there, Mr. Peña.”

Javier couldn’t even tell you what had happened in the 30 minutes that he was up on stage. There were many times throughout his career where he had stared out into a sea of blank faces as he gave a presentation about intel, informats, wire taps… but having the eyes of 80 9 and 10 year olds glued to his every word was an absolutely terrifying experience. Not because he was nervous about the judgment of a child who may or may not even be able to tie their shoes or wipe their nose, but because of what they may say about him to you. It took everything in his power not to stare at you the entire time he was up there, but every time he glanced in your direction, your face lit up with a reassuring smile. You had even given him a little thumbs up when he had successfully started the VCR, playing a clip of Daren the D.A.R.E Lion.

As the presentation finished, the kids applauded and gave a unanimous “thank you!” prompted by the teachers.

As your class gathered behind you to walk down to the cafeteria, Maria tapped your shoulder.

“Take a picture, mija, it will last longer.”

You were too busy staring at Javi to even notice that Maria was talking to you. Her words went in one ear and out the other.

“Huh, what? Sorry, did you say something?”

“I said, take a picture, it will last longer.” Maria laughed to herself. “I don’t think your eyes have left him once since you walked in here.”

You hated to admit it, but it was true. You had known this man for less than an hour, and he already had butterflies dancing around in your stomach. God, what were you, 12?! Pull it together.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Maria.” Of course you did. If you were wearing pants, they would be up in flames. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“I’ll take your class to lunch today. I’ll be back to help stack all of the chairs in a few. I’m sure he could use some help cleaning up, and I’ve heard that VCR is really difficult to work.” Maria nudged you before she turned around to collect your class and parade them out of the gym. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Trying to contain your excitement, you playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head.

The other teachers and students left, leaving just you and Javi. He gathered his things that he had left on the stage and started to make his way back down the stairs. It took him a moment to realize you were standing at the edge of the steps, arms crossed over your chest, smiling up at him.

“I’m sorry if the kids were rowdy. It’s been a zoo since there’s only a few days of school left.” You both let out a small chuckle. Now that you two were alone, you became very aware of how nervous you were.

“You did a really great job! Honestly, you’re the best person we’ve had since we’ve started doing these presentations. The guy we had last time, I can’t remember his name, something with an M?! Anyways, I don’t think he’s ever spoken to a child in his entire life, and there were definitely some tears.”

Definitely Morris, Javi noted to himself.

“Thanks, I uh- didn’t think I’d be so nervous to talk in front of a bunch of kids. I’m glad it wasn’t too bad. I should thank you for helping me with that video. Didn’t need to get my pride bruised in front of 10 year olds. Also glad I didn’t make anyone cry.”

You both let out small laughs, your cheeks revealing small smiles across your faces. While the silence between you grew, the distance between you began to shrink as you both subconsciously took a small step towards each other.

He watched as a small wave of sadness flooded your expression. “Stinks that this is the last week of presentations before the school year ends. it would have been nice to have you back.” You looked at him with a half hopeful smile. You saw the same feeling reflected back in him as his brow scrunched and bottom lip entered a small pout.

“Oh shit. Yeah, I uh, I guess I forgot it’s the end of the school year. That would make sense there wouldn’t be anymore presentations.” He rested one hand on his hip, as the other traveled through his thick, brown locks. You bit down on your bottom lip, stunned by his broadness and shoulders to waist ratio, which was made even more apparent as his fingers combed through his hair. His deep brown eyes met yours, melting you instantly. “If I had known that you would have been here, I would have signed up to come a lot earlier.”

Before you had a chance to recover yourself from the puddle you had just turned into, the cafeteria doors swung open once again. Maria was a woman on a mission. Her tiny, thin frame marched with purpose towards you both.

“Oh good thing I caught you, amor! I was just thinking that I had something important to tell Javier before he left and I’m so glad you’re here to hear it too. Javi happens to be a dear familiar friend, and I was just telling him before the presentation how excited I am to see him and his father at my cookout this Saturday! I know you had mentioned you were thinking about going! You’ll be there, won’t you Javier? Aren't you so excited to come to the party this Saturday?”

Maria and Javier entered a silent stare down. Their expressions allowed them to have an entire conversation without speaking a word.

There’s a party on Saturday? What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?

Dios Mio, Pendejo. Take the hint. I already invited her. She will be there on Saturday so you can see her again. Don’t mess this up.

“Oh really?” You chimed in, perhaps a bit too over enthusiastic. “I wasn’t really going to know anyone besides the staff at school, so it would be nice to see another familiar face!” In all honesty, you were trying to find a way out of going before just now. Huge social gatherings of strangers weren’t really your thing, but if it meant it was a chance to see Javi again, you would brave it.

“Oh yeah, the uh, the cookout! Yeah, uh, yeah, I’ll be there. It would be really nice to see you again, too.” Although Javier’s tone carried a tint of confusion, his smile was confirmed that his statement was genuine.

“Bueno!” Maria clasped her hands together and shook her head in delight. “So you will BOTH be there on Saturday!”

You could already feel your heart swelling at the prospect of seeing Javi again.

“Oh and mija”, Maria turned towards you, your face lighting up, wondering if she had even more good news to deliver. “They need you in the office. Isabella and Jorge got into a wrestling match in the cafeteria and the secretaries needed to call their parents. Oi, these niños are like wild animals, summer cannot come fast enough!”

“Of course they did. They might as well put WWE referee under our job description because it seems like that’s all I’m doing all day. It’s like herding feral cats.” you groaned. “Those two cannot be together next year…”

Javi let out a snort. “Sorry”, he said, trying to contain his laughter. You joined in, realizing the ridiculousness of your statement.

“Alright, well I guess that’s my cue to go. It was really nice to meet you, Javi. I’m really glad I get to see you again.” It took every ounce of strength in your body to move yourself out of the cafeteria doors. As you walked away, you turned once more to look back over your shoulder, to find that Javi’s eye’s hadn’t moved from your direction since you turned around. “See you on Saturday.”

Even after you were out of sight, Javi still stood frozen, his eyes wide and jaw still half open.

“Hola, earth to Javier, are you there?!” Maria interjected, waving her hand in front of Javi’s awe struck face.

Snapping out of his trance, Javier began to speak, but was stopped before he could get out a single word.

“Listen to me mijo. I want you to be happy. That was all Lucia asked for before she passed. So first and foremost, you are welcome.” Maria gestured, alluding to the fact that Javier owed her big time for what had just happened. “Secondly, she is a sweet girl. If you do anything to break her heart, so help me, I will come to the ranch and run you over with your father’s tractor. Understood?”

“Understood.” Javier understood that this was not a threat, it was a promise.

“Good. She’s a good one, Javier. She reminds me so much of your mother. Lucia would have loved her.” She reached up her hand to cup the side of Javi’s face, before bringing her other arm around him for a hug.

Javier exhaled, trying his best to hold back the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was the first time since returning home that he felt a sense of relief and comfort fill his body. Maybe, he was more than the man he was returning home from Colombia. Maybe, the people who loved him before he left still loved him now, despite the person he’d become. Maybe, just maybe, someone else could love him for the new man he now hoped to become.

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starwrighter · 4 months

Text

"Dad" Dan au

(Pov I haven't read Agit yet) ( I don't mind spoilers though)

I don't think we in the dpxdc fandom play with the canon information that Dark Danny is a product of Danny's ghost half fusing with with Plasmius.

Yeah, he's completely down with mass murder and is really sadistic in the episode but that's not as fun to play with in this context.

He's still merged with Vlad and I'd like to have that bleed into him a bit more than the "oh he's so evil," but him being obsessed with his own Mom like Vlad is a level of weird I'm not willing to touch with a fifty foot pole.

I say, let him have Vlad's obsession with making Danny his son. It's hilarious! Imagine being obsessed with making your past self your son! Dan had no qualms with directly trying to murder the past version of his family. But I love the idea of him first seeing his past self in all his awkward half-ghost glory an obsession kicks into gear with a fury!

Dan hating his own parents with a passion because they're uh, well... His parents. And that stops him from being his own parent! It's so stupid. Dan judging every single one their parenting decisions. All while he himself is still morally detestable.

It's great! Still can't decide if he's just stalking the family like a creep. Or he pretended to be redeemed and Danny with Jazz gaslit their parents into believing they have an older sibling ghosts his from them.

Onto the dpxdc part of this!

Now Dan is just looking for the opportunity to whisk Danny away. Jack and Maddie are interfering with his obsession without even trying to! He'll be trying to feed the kid something edible and they'll be ectoplasm samples in the fridge! Ghost hunting equipment in the open when they know it has a tendency to misfire around their son! Dan doesn't care if they really love Danny. There are harpoons pointed at his kid! Those idiots were one misstep away from accidentally killing their child a second time and Dan isn't having it!

Dan yoinks Danny and fucking books it into the ghost zone. Danny clearly wouldn't be happy with this development (betrayal or surprise you choose!) And Dan is trying his best to get Danny to co-operate. Either with specter deflectors or a deal with Desiree. But Danny's stuck with the guy.

I'm taking advantage of the fact that the Dc universe has absolutely obliterated it's multiverse making pretty much impossible for normal ghosts and humans to navigate. Dan flees with Danny to an iteration of the Dc universe and pokes around for a place to settle.

Metropolis's hero was an annoying goodie two shoes and he'd kill this "lex Luthor" the moment he heard the fucker speak. Plus, both rogues and hero's threw cars like baseballs.

Gotham was flooded with crime but their rouges were just people. Their heroes were just people. Crazy people sure, but Dan could kill them if they stepped out of line.

If only the self proclaimed hero's would stop trying to make grabs at his kid.

#dc x dp #dcxdp #please if anyone's played with Dan being Danny's father figure #give them toooooo meeeeee!!#doesn't matter if it's crossover related I just like the dynamic #Dan looking at the flaming dumpster fire of Gotham:#Dan: this is a perfect place to raise my child

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anantaru · 1 year

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okay but. making out with alhaitham in the car.

cw. riding, sloppy make out session, semi public (you’re in a car obviously), modern au, fem! reader

alhaitham downright detests how long it takes for you to drive home.

and the rippling lust for your beauty was settling into his mind and body excessively— specifically his groin that was dwelling with miniature tingles and stings that he knew would slowly but surely turn into something uncontrollable, something— disruptive, if not taken care of.

whatever it may be, it‘s not like alhaitham cannot wait, but this smoldering setting was poles apart from average days where his prickling lust and desires would gravitate in his bones and spread around his entire body and mind.

but he notes that tonight was— outlandishly different.

for some reason simply swallowing down his desires and needs as per usual just wouldn't do it for him.

"you‘re so sweet when you‘re turned on." you pause, alluring a deep gulp of air through your embellished lips, corners plucked in a cheeky grin while he was still in fact, yes, driving.

but alhaitham wondered if he‘d be able to actually find an immediate parking spot where he could park this damn car before something was to happen between you.

"—oh?" he cocks a brow, a drawn out grunt exits his stiffened chest when you idly place your hand on top of his clothed thigh, it makes him relax for the first time during this ride because before that all he could imagine was splitting you in half while pistoling his cock into you in the back seat, more times— yet now, oh now everything was beginning to be set in the right place.

"seems like you have me figured out— for once." and you squeeze his thigh, carefreely blowing down a breathless laugh, polishing your tempting play with a simple kiss on his cheek— this sweet action had him dizzy, out of his mind with his pupils blown out entirely now, but before he can even catch his own breath, you‘re back to making it as difficult as possible.

you grin pettish, finally seeing what your eyes had wanted; because the second your lips touched alhaitham it shook him through his very core and returned to him in a juddering convulsion, holding on his thoughts through a vice like grip, not only that but the buzz got sent straight down to his groin, so much that he caught himself pitch his hips up at nothing but the air.

the following blurred out scenes complete themselves like difficult puzzles finally drawing the true picture— in an uncontrollable phantasm of unlatching the irksome car belt, listlessly sliding to the back seat so you could easily hover over your boyfriends erection.

he‘s huge— itching so badly that alhaitham cannot think straight, and oh well, it wasn‘t possible for you to get or move into another position aside from this particular one— not that you were complaining, that is, something about having your boyfriend at your sight while he chants uncontrollable sobs into your mouth blurred your vision white— because in this squished together setting you were able to observe how his plump lips would silently form into an 'o' like shape while he deliriously groans at each new drag of his cock into your prettiest, softest cunt.

your hands interlock into his lustrous hair to yank him against your lips— you cannot not kiss him, quite frankly, you were starving to have him on your lips and suckle on his tongue while concurrently clashing yourself on him. "how, fuck— fucking much i wanted this." alhaitham circles his fingers around the wet skin on your hips, his tone taunting and seemingly hidden by a deluge of labored breathing.

you adjust and torment yourself on his hips with lowered twitches downward, shamelessly smearing your wetness on his naked lower region. "p.. please—" you wail, then beg.

you're so full but longed for more and it's almost as if you were tortured by how you had already lost your mind from being impaled by his cock, your toes twisting at the bucking warps inside you, "please more!" and again, mimicking a broken record.

your tongue sloppily dances around his own, coursing through the penetrative scent of mint on his lips. you wanted him so bad, though, you had him but you needed more, if he so desired it alhaitham could honestly destroy your insides for all you care.

you knew alhaitham would leave bruises by how alarmingly coated your hips were by his large hands and their stern grip, that you‘d be able to distinguish each creek and curve of his large cock in your rammed pussy, even after he had finished and filled you up, sending your breath into another obscene ensemble of loud hitches.

"aah— curses!" alhaitham squeezes his eyes shut and begins to move you back and forth his cock, desperate and so fervently in tune with you, chasing more biting relief on his swelling erecting while bottoming into you from below, pressing down and down, so your walls were sticking and suckling on his girth, working in tandem with his own strength drifting through you.

"fuck baby!" you had never done this before, fucking in a car out on a random parking lot, and felt a bit dirty.

again— all shamelessly and hot fucking into a closed off parking alley while being too loud for your own good wasn‘t exactly a daily occurance— but you hoped it would become one after this.

"love love you so much!" you kiss alhaitham— strongly and all over his face, plant pecks on his pretty worn out expression and arch your back into his chest.

he likes the view too, but loves you more, the repeated squish of your breasts into him, nosing over his jawline before hiding in his damp neck— leaving it to your sweet and pretty boyfriend alhaitham to bring you towards the edge, urging him to make you feel this sweet sugary pleasure, only he was able to achieve.

#alhaitham smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact alhaitham x reader #genshin impact alhaitham smut #𖤣𖤥𖠿𖤣𖤥 thirsts'#fem! reader #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #alhaitham x you

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lxndonorris · 9 months

Text

cool down - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching, (light) Charles takes an ice bath x word count: 2222

Qualifying just ended, and your boyfriend Charles managed to secure third place for tomorrow's race. It was a tough battle, with multiple drivers battling for pole position, but in the end, Max snatched it before anyone else, setting the perfect lap. Fernando managed to secure the second spot in the front row, but just barely. Charles had an amazing lap, pushing the Ferrari more and more with every corner and every straight. Sadly, it wasn't enough to beat the Spaniard. Adding to the pressure of driving a Formula 1 car, the sun is shining brightly, hanging above in a cloudless sky. The heat is nearly unbearable, and sitting inside that car in full racing gear is another factor putting even more pressure on the drivers. It is important to take care of one's body, and taking an ice bath is an excellent way to prevent strained muscles and to cool down.

After the usual media obligations, Charles escorted you to his motorhome to get ready for the ice-cold relief. He is still wearing his racing suit, even though the upper half is already hanging down from his waist. It's way too hot to keep it zipped up all the way to his neck, even though you love the sight of him wearing his racing gear.

"Fuck, it's so hot." Charles lets out a low groan while he runs both of his hands through his messy hair. He turns around, and his expression softens right away when he looks at you. It's insane how good he looks, regardless. Trying to calm himself down a little, he begins to stroke his chest with one hand firmly, and you can't help but watch his hand move closely.

"You did very well today." You say comfortingly, and he takes a step toward you, a coy smile forming in the corner of his lips. Charles reaches for your waist, grabs it, and gently pulls you into him.

"Thank you," He growls, placing a single kiss on your lips. You embrace his mouth on yours and melt into him, feeling both of his follow your waistline to your ass. Wearing skinny jeans, a Ferrari shirt, and a cap, you feel his hands firmly clasp your butt cheeks. "I wish I was faster, though." He exhales once you're separated.

Sweat is running down the side of his beautiful face, and you place both of your hands on his chest, causing him to look down. "We can figure that out later." You say, running both of your hands down his firm chest and around his waist. "But first, you should try to cool down." Purring slightly, Charles lifts his chin for your eyes to meet again.

"I like how you think." He smirks and tilts his head slowly. You can tell his body is still heating up just by the way his face hardens slightly and he holds back another exhausted groan.

"Let's get you in an ice bath." Patting his chest lovingly, you make him chuckle. Even though he smiles, he rolls his eyes quickly. He doesn't want to go anywhere now and would rather spend the rest of the day with just you. But in the end, Charles knows it's important to take care of his health. You separate from him, and you motion for his shoes. "Start undressing; I'll get you some clothes." Charles nods.

"Alright." He chuckles and sits down on the sofa, untying his shoes. You walk over to a cupboard, open it, and go through it to find all the things you need. He made sure to carry a few swim shorts with him for every race during the summer. It's not always needed, but it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

"Did you just bring red ones?" You say, grabbing one of the three red shorts, and look back at him, now taking both of his shoes off. Struggling a little bit, he looks up at you, holding back a playful grin.

"Of course." He chuckles again, and you just roll your eyes. His pride and love for this team are enormous, even though it feels like a love-hate relationship. Going through his stuff, you look for a pair of slippers until you find one; this time, they're black and white. You hear him sliding out of his suit, and with a low moan, he sighs.

"That feels better." Charles's moan turns into a soft giggle, and before you can turn around, he approaches you, hugging you from behind. "Hey there." He breathes deeply and places a kiss on your neck. You enjoy the feeling of his arms around you, and you give in to him for just a second.

"Charles.." You say, and he chuckles again, taking another step back.

"I know." He pouts, and once you have all that you need, you turn around to find him standing there, wearing his fireproofs. The tight fabric flatters his excellent physique perfectly, and all of his muscles are already tensing immensely. Charles is standing there, his back turned to you, stroking his own chest mindlessly. Now, you approach him, running a hand down his spine, from his neck right to his ass. His body shudders, causing him to giggle again.

"Here." You say this, handing him his swimshorts before you put the slippers down in front of him.

"Thanks, babé." He grins, stealing another kiss from your lips. You sit down on the sofa now to have the perfect view. Charles is already in the mood after a good qualifying and the anticipation of getting an ice bath. You can tell he's also excited about tomorrow's race; it's his life and his passion, after all. Any time he gets into one of those cars wearing his beloved racing suit, he'll get horny. Giving in to his desire to drive racing cars to beat his rivals and win trophies Pure hedonism.

Charles winks and starts undressing. His shirt is the first to go. He already looks phenomenal wearing tight clothes, but his bare chest is on a whole other level. You enjoy the sight of his well-formed body, and you know he feels the same. He stops for a second, wiping tears of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, that's annoying." He scoffs and runs his other hand through his messy hair, trying to fix it slightly. Nodding in agreement, you can't help but take another longing look at his bare chest, as all of him is making it harder and harder for you to stay focused.

The heat is really exhausting anyone around the paddock, and even though the motorhome has air conditioning, it's not really helping.

"The bath should be ready by now." You say that, looking at the clock. The team makes sure to have it ready after the interviews for their drivers to relax after qualifying and the race. Charles nods, slowly regaining his composure.

"I can't wait." He growls and strokes his chest again, once, twice, again, and again, mindlessly while thinking for a moment. You know he's already occupied coming up with strategies to have a shot at winning tomorrow. Racing is embedded in every fiber of his being, another reason you love him so much. Subconsciously, he runs a hand down his chest to his crotch, feeling his member through his pants.

"Guys." Shaking your head slowly, you smirk and roll your eyes again. This catches his attention. He raises an eyebrow and lifts his chin slightly, looking at you with a shimmer in his beautiful eyes.

"You love that." He grunts, grabbing himself firmly. Charles tries to act all serious, but the corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk. You get up from the sofa and approach him. He stands his ground, doesn't back down, and you lean in to him, kissing him again.

"You know I can't say no to that." You smirk and run your hands across his chest, letting your fingers brush over his hard nipples, teasing him before pinching him playfully.

"Y/N!" Charles flinches and lets out a low growl, which turns into a giggle. "I'm ticklish." He protests, but you already know that. After releasing him, you stroke him again, and his body is tensing more.

"Come on, then." You pat his chest again, and his whole body softens slightly. He nods in agreement, holding back a grin.

While you walk over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, Charles slides out of his pants. You open the bottle and nearly empty it right away. The cold liquid running down your throat feels so good, and with a sigh, you turn back to Charles, who's just putting on his swimshorts, sliding one hand inside them to make himself comfortable.

As he walks toward a mirror on the wall, you grab another bottle and approach him. Looking at his reflection, he runs his hands through his hair, finally able to fix them, well, as good as possible. Satisfied, he lets his hands wander down his upper body, with his fingers brushing over his muscles and across his crotch.

"Here, you need to drink a lot." You hand him the bottle, and he gladly takes it, emptying it right away. Charles lets out a long, deep sigh.

"Fuck, that feels good." He puts the bottle down and turns to you. Instantly, your eyes wander down his body once more. Naturally, you have seen him naked so many times, but it's still a sight to behold, and he knows. Tilting his head, he gives you a knowing look and puts on some jewelry. If there is something Charles Leclerc can't live without, it's jewelry and racing, of course. He puts on a chain and his beloved ring.

"Are you ready?" He smirks, puts on a pair of sunglasses, and reaches out for you to take his hand.

"Just waiting on you, dear." You smirk and take his hand.

"I know." He chuckles once again before he opens the door to lead you through the paddock. The teams organized a few trucks, which contain the tubs for the ice baths, and they aren't far from the motorhomes. It's a more secluded corner; there are no prying eyes from the media, just the teams, drivers, and some organizers. Together, you walk toward Ferrari's truck, with a few members of his team already standing there, when Carlos, his teammate, steps out of it. He's also wearing a red pair of swim shorts, and once he spots the two of you, he smiles.

"It feels so good, Charles." He says before turning to you. "Hey, Y/N." Carlos smiles warmly.

"Hey Carlos." You smile and blush. He's looking very good; there is no denying that. Just then, Charles squeezes your hand.

"I totally need that right now." He says, his voice a little rougher than usual. Carlos nods and steps aside.

"It's all yours." A polite smile spreads across his lips before he leaves. Carefully, Charles leads you up the steps into the back of the truck. It's already cooler inside there, but once you reach Charles's tub, you can't help but put your hand into the water.

"Wow. That's cold." You pull your hand out and shake it. Charles just chuckles again, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him to whisper into your ear.

"Care to join me?" He breathes down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You, on the other hand, just shake your head in disagreement.

"It's all yours." You motion toward the bath, and he shrugs. Just putting your hand in was enough bathing in icy water for the whole day.

"Your loss." He smirks, and without further ado, he steps inside. One leg at a time, his body gets engulfed in freezing water, and right away, he lets out multiple low groans and moans, trying his best to hold them back. "Fuuuuck." Charles's moan turns into a giggle again before he proceeds to sit down. Breathing deeply, he lets out a long, exhausted sigh before standing up again.

"Feels good?" You ask and take a step forward again, feeling the temperature with just the tips of your fingers.

"So good." He smiles happily and approaches you again to kiss you once more. Unable to resist, you place a hand on his well-formed chest again, feeling his muscles react to your slightest touch. "Mhmmm." He purrs into your mouth, giving you goosebumps.

Then, he separates himself by taking a step back and proceeds to rub icy water all over his chest to cool down some more. Charles knows he's teasing you this way, but that makes it even more interesting for him.

"So, what are we goona do about tomorrow?" You steady yourself against the tub and lean in over the edge. Right away, Charles starts to play with his ring, something he'd do while thinking or as a self-soothing gesture.

Together, you come up with some ideas and some possibilities for how he could actually gain places or win the race. After all, anything is possible. A well-timed safety car or other people's technical issues can help in that matter. In the end, it's often luck-based, but it's fun to watch races, especially when Charles might be standing on that podium again.

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