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#best tires for jeeps
gracieheartspedro · 7 months
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Trash Talk
abby anderson x fem!reader
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description: you and abby anderson go waaayyy back, and she can't stand you. after being distant for years, you can't help but pick on her and get under her skin. you can't help yourself. maybe it's those god damn arms and that cute smile she makes sometimes. so, why not try to bully her enough so she will take you to bed?
word count: 7.1k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, threatening of one's life, murder (reader kills scars), use of guns, dom!abby, fingering, eating out, shower sex, use of a strap on, dirty talk, abby calls reader tons of names, major teasing!!
author's note: first abby one shot. let's goooo! lemme know what you guys think. I really liked writing this and I'm down for any requests for abby or ellie!! love you guysssss <3
“Are you the one braiding your hair every day or do you have some pretty girl do it for you?”
Abby’s head spun over how dumb your questions had been all afternoon. Luckily for her, you were being quiet up until this moment. 
You are propped up beside her on the back of the jeep, your rifle slung across your lap. You were itching to get a rise out her today, it was fun to watch her eyes roll into the back of her head. 
She cocks her gun, her eyes trained forward and away from you. She’s always on edge when you’re out on patrol. Her furrowed eyebrows and tense shoulders made your relaxed and at ease body language look unjustified. 
“I braid it myself,” Is all she says. You train your eyes to watch her muscles flex as she inspects her gun closely. You contemplate your answer, do you ask if she can braid yours next or do you ask if that’s how she got those insane arms of hers. 
You don’t make a decision by the time Manny slams on the breaks, unexpectedly. Abby’s body flies into yours, sliding across the bench and crashing into your side. You wince, snapping your head forward to the road. 
“We got company, chicas!”
You duck when the first shot hits the steel of the car. Abby grabs your waist, dragging you down onto the bed of the SUV. She didn’t want your death on her hands, knowing Isaac would never forgive her for losing his best gunner. You roll away from her grasp, propping your rifle forward where Manny is driving. 
Scars on horseback surround the road in front of you. 
They are easy to take out when they are high up, for you at least. 
“Manny, duck your head!” You holler, glancing back at Abby who’s hand is still somehow on you. She looks conflicted, her gun still loosely in her grip. 
You prop your gun up, aiming at a older man on the closest horse trailing the jeep. He has a bow, which doesn’t move as fast as your bullet. You ease into the trigger, taking out the guy with a head shot. You didn’t have time to think about your reasonings for killing the guy, you never had the time to think about it. You knew that these men would kill Manny, Abby, and you, if they had the chance, so you guess the proper reaction is a bullet to the skull. 
You hear Abby yelling something but your ears are ringing at the sound of you taking out each Scar one-by-one. You don’t even let them get behind the SUV, knowing they would be getting a better shot at you. Once the last one flies off the back of their horse at the impact of your bullet, you sit up. 
You realize that Abby hasn’t fired a single shot. 
“I think we have a flat tire! I’m gonna pull off when I find cover,” Manny explains, his voice loud over the sound of the ringing in your ears. 
Abby sits up beside you, gripping the side of the bench with her left hand. She gets a good look at your completely unfazed face and it pisses her off. You never had a moment to second guess your actions and you never had an honest reaction to killing upward of 7 men. You were always stone cold and even. You weren’t always like that. You used to have some life left in your steely eyes. At least, that’s what she thought. 
You were disassociated from the entire world when put in any situation that could be deemed “dangerous”. It’s almost like a completely different person took over your body. Your reactions were not your own. But when you finally came to, your bones would vibrate with anxiety and adrenaline. You were just a master at disguising it because you didn’t want everyone around you to see you as weak. You can never be weak, again. 
Even if Abby took out that many men, which she has done before, she still walks away with a small inkling of guilt written on her face. You don’t even quiver at the sight of violence and death, not that she sees, anyway. 
But it does eat away at you. You’re plagued with nightmares if you can ever even find sleep at night. Most nights are spent curled into a ball, staring off into space, praying the walls will just cave in and suffocate you. You hardly eat most of the time, the thought of munching on food makes you nauseous. 
Manny pulls into a familiar warehouse that’s usually a stopping point for one of your patrol routes. The jeep is jittering, chugging forward with a scraping noise. You stand up when it completely stops, jumping down from the side. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and your gun strap across your other.
You watch Abby jump down after you, her impact on the ground loud. She stares at you with this annoyed look on her face. 
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Mad you didn’t get a shot off?”
Your tone makes her ball her hands into fists.
“Can you shut your fucking mouth ever?”
Manny chirps in quickly after she says it, “Ay! Quit it you two!”
You bow your head, “Yeah, Abby. You need to blow off some steam. Gettin’ all worked up.”
Manny slaps your shoulder lightly, gesturing you two to get inside the warehouse. You knew you had to clear it before you settled in to discuss the next game plan. You stand there watching Abby strut towards you, her eyes scanning your body up and down. 
She is only a little bit taller than you, but she’s built like an ox. When you two were acquainted, she was about your stature. Now that she needs to prove herself, she bulked up and became even more hot. 
“You’re lucky Isaac needs your ass, because if were up to me, I’d send you straight to the Island and watch them pick you apart.”
Her voice is vicious and you could tell she was pissed at you for teasing her. It only made you smile in sick pleasure. You craved getting under her skin. 
“Love it when you talk dirty to me, Abs.”
She ignores your comment, knowing exactly what you were trying to do. You were doing it so well, too. 
You three creep inside the warehouse, stalking around the open area, ensuring there’s no one nearby to sneak up on you. Your running low on ammo, but you didn’t want to ask Abby for a new magazine. She would bitch you out for not grabbing an extra. With that in mind, you sling your rifle across your back and pull out your pistol. You cock it, which interupts the silence you three had been settling in. 
“A pistol?” Manny questions, quietly. You nod slowly, discharging the magazine to make sure you had a stacked shell. 
You huff, “Yeah, I’m out of hallow points for the rifle.”
Abby stops in her tracks, “You forgot another magazine, didn’t you?”
She wanted so badly to be right, especially when it came to you fucking up. You stare at her as you shove the magazine back into the grip. 
“Eat my ass, Abby.”
She laughs, watching your face fall as you cock the gun again. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Manny grimaces, “Please, stop, you two. Let’s get this place clear and then figure out what we do next.”
Manny was right. You and Abby separate, both of you trailing up some stairs to the extended area of the warehouse. You check every corner on your side, ensuring no one will be sneaky and catch you all off guard. Once you all decide it’s clear, you meet up at the staircase Manny is walking down.
Manny was a good friend and a rare hookup. You had slept with him a couple times and while he was always a generous guy, he never made you cum. He always joked that it was because you liked girls better, and truthfully, he may be right. He was handsome but he never really did it for you. 
Abby, on the other hand, you and her went way back and she did it for you. Before becoming Isaac’s favorite, you were pretty good friends with her. You two sat together in “school” and she taught you how to make someone pass out by putting them in a headlock. You had confided in her about your past and she was the only one who truly knew everything. You genuinely liked her and wanted so badly to tell her how you felt. But once Isaac took interest in your skill set, he trained you vigorously with his top men. You had no time for anything anymore. It pissed Abby off so much, for some odd reason. You’d think a friend would be proud that the head honcho took interest in you and wanted to make you better. But instead, Abby took it as a personal jab and started ignoring you. When you confronted her, she told you that she was too busy for friends. That, of course, didn’t stop her from having a whole ass friend group without you. When you befriended Manny, he told you that Abby only saw you as competition. 
So you became even better. Not wanting to repeat the same mistake, you kept everyone at an arms length and avoided getting close with anyone. It made you withdrawn, and eventually, you realized you were not meant to be a friend to anyone. You were made to be a killer.  
“So what do we do now? Go back or go to our assigned checkpoint?”
Abby’s training her eyes on Manny and Manny only. She refuses to even glance your direction. You turn your gun safety on and tuck it into your waistband. 
“How far do you think we are from the checkpoint?” You question, crossing your arms across your chest. 
“Too fuckin’ far,” Abby responds, still not looking at you.
You smirk, “Perfect, then let’s do that. Maybe Abby can get her finger on a trigge-“
Before you can finish your sentence, Abby’s reaching out and pulling your body towards her by your shirt. You don’t even flinch, your body just flies forward as she finally stares daggers into you. You like being this close to her, it makes the hair on your arms stand up. 
“I swear to God,” She’s gritting her teeth, “If you don’t stop fucking around, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
You press yourself closer to her. Her fist with your balled up shirt grazes your boobs. Manny doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes, anticipating your response. You like this game. The one where you tease Abby and she becomes enraged by your words and eventually it comes to a tipping point. She’s always just thrown something, her manhandling you was new.  
“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” You mutter, your face millimeters from hers, “I don’t think you’re remembering what our body counts are and who’s surpassing the other by a fucking landslide.”
“I’d love to add you to mine, that’s for damn sure,” She responds quickly, eager to one up you. You giggle at the double meaning that comes to mind. You would like to be on her body count list, for sure.
“Stop it!”
You both shoot a look at Manny who’s nudging you two apart. Abby unhands your shirt, and you step backward away from her, tripping a bit over some broken concrete. She looks you up and down with disgust. 
“You need to stop acting like you’re better than everyone else,” She grumbles, ignoring Manny’s pleas for a truce. 
“You need to stop acting so serious all the time! Get a grip, I’m just fuckin’ with you.”
“I said stop! I knew you guys hated one another but I didn’t know this was gonna be a who’s dick is bigger competition. You both need to relax!”
Abby’s face is twisted and you hated that you found it attractive. God, you wanted to fucking hate her. 
Abby crosses her arms, flexing them right in front of you. She notices your expression change. She knew you had a little crush before, but she thought that feeling was long gone. She shoves the small inkling of optimism that you may still feel that way down.
Manny speaks up again, “We should just head back and tell Isaac we will head back out tomorrow morning. It’s going to be dark in about an hour. It’s too risky.”
“Agreed,” Abby tightens up her folded arms, “If you wanna go out by yourself, you can do that. We can tell Isaac you went awol.”
You smirk at her suggestion, “No, I want to be there to tell him you can’t pull your punches. Be way more satisfying to watch you squirm.”
-
“I’m glad everyone was okay,” Isaac says, his deep voice dropping an octave, “I’ll get more guys to go with you tomorrow morning. You three get back here at sunrise, okay?”
You clear your throat, “Want me to run through how to shoot a gun with Abby before we ship out?”
Manny huffs, “Come on, dude.”
“I think she’d benefit from it,” You say matter-of-factly to Isaac. You can feel Abby’s gaze burning into you. She’s leaning against the door frame, while you are seated in front of Isaac’s sprawling desk. You always felt like he only sat there to seem more authoritative. To you, he was just a man. 
“Play nice, little one,” He stands up from his rolling chair to stand in front of your manspreaded legs, “You still need to prove to me that you’re loyal. Don’t think I forgot about the incident at the hospital last week.”
Your stomach drops while Abby’s ears perk up.
“What happened at the hospital last week?”
Her voice is eager, which only makes you angrier. You adjust yourself in your seat, sitting up straighter. 
“She refused to kill a Scar,” He explains, teetering over you, “She shot a Wolf instead.”
“He demanded I gut a child in front of her mother. I am not going to do shit like that.”
Isaac chuckles before slamming his fist down on the table beside him, “You can and you fuckin’ will. If I get any more push back from you, I’ll get Anderson here to take you out herself.”
You stand up quickly, avoiding everyone’s gazes. You want to throw your knife into his throat, but you know that wouldn’t end well. You didn’t want to have to be on the run again.
Being humiliated in front of Abby and Manny made you feel sick. You hadn’t felt shame in so long, not even when you were reprimanded last week for shooting that guy between the eyes. You were lucky he was just some new recruit and had no family back at the Stadium. Isaac spared you because he needs you. You’re a good asset. 
“We clear?” 
His voice bounces off the wall. You don’t say anything, you just nod slightly and storm out of the office. You hear the door slam behind you as you swiftly walk towards the staircase. There’s men loitering in the hallway, waiting for Isaac to tell them to go kill another Scar. Pathetic, you thought. 
You start to think about how didn’t want to face Abby and Manny tomorrow, but you knew better to ignore direct orders. Maybe a shower would rinse off the disgusting dirty feeling that plagued your skin. 
-
“Didn’t know I was workin’ with a traitor today,” Abby says from behind you. You’re in the community bathrooms, cursing that it’s even a thing because you knew some shit like this would happen. You thought since it was midnight, you wouldn’t have any company. You were, of course, wrong. 
Abby has her towel draped over her broad shoulder and a small container with her soaps. You were just about to strip down and take one of the spickets on the tiled wall when she interrupts your routine.
You swallow hard, not in the mood to argue with her. Even if there’s no one around, you don’t feel like entertaining anymore.
“‘M not a traitor. I just don’t kill children.” 
You had very limited morals, but you drew the line at children. You remember what it was like to watch your friends get picked off by raiders when you were a kid. You remember being horrified hearing the screams of their mothers. You remember the innocence being stripped from you. You can’t stomach the idea of killing someone who has no control over their life or the decisions of others, so you don’t. 
Isaac showed no mercy to any Scar, but you did and he was trying his very hardest to beat that out of you. The only reason you were stuck on the patrol with Manny and Abby in the first place was because he knocked you down to more minor runs and not the intense ones you were on before. It was your “punishment” for disrespecting authority. You were lucky to even have your head after killing that guy in front of other Wolves. 
Abby grumbles something inaudible. 
“You remember when we were forced to watch those daycare kids after not doing our morning mile?” You reflect, thinking back to easier times with Abby, “Imagine one of those innocent kids being gutted by a machete and it’s your own hand doing it. If a child is going to die in the name of some stupid land, I don’t want to be the one holding the weapon. Isaac can have sociopaths like you to do that.”
“Me? The sociopath? If I’m remembering correctly, they gave you the nickname Heartless after your run through on the East side a couple months ago,” Abby’s voice is venmous, “You are the top Scar killer right now. You kill and you don’t even flinch.”
“I kill people who try to kill me,” You grab the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, “I need to protect myself. And whoever I’m with. I’m not given a choice.”
“Was that guy trying to kill you? The one you shot between the eyes?”
You’re silent. She poses a good question, a question you don’t have a good answer for. You turn to face her, and the first thing you realize is her braid is becoming unraveled. You purse your lips, racking your brain for a response after being distracted. The only rebuttal is a question, something that has eaten you alive ever since it started.
“Why do you hate me so fuckin’ much?” 
She cocks her head to the side, “Are you serious right now?”
Deep down, Abby never hated you. She was jealous of you. She wanted everything you had. She couldn’t stand seeing someone be better than her, especially a girl she liked. And you did everything so well. She harbored a secret crush on you for a while, even when she was with Owen. She hated that she liked you and you were leaving her behind to advance up the ranks. She only wanted your attention, truthfully. Now, since she distanced herself from you, everything you did ate her alive. While poking fun at her was your way of flirting, Abby reeled over it every night before bed. How could you be so mean?
“We were friends, Abby. I told you about my family. I told you everything, and as soon as I got in with Isaac, you iced me out. Told me you didn’t need friends,” You huff out, “I knew that was a lie then and I know it’s a fuckin’ lie now because you have friends. Lots of them. Why couldn’t I be your friend?”
“Because I can’t be friends with you!”
Her voice is high pitched, almost shaky. You take a step forward and for once she doesn’t step away from you. You’re in her space, your hip bone millimeters from her hands. Your eyes are trained on her reaction, which is just her eyes averting away from you. 
“Why can’t we be friends, Abs?”
You reach up, grabbing her messy braid softly. She flinches a bit, easing into the idea of you touching her. It’s been a long time since you were this close to her without her resisting. She still won’t look you in the eyes. Your fingers travel down her mousey braid until you’re trailing her collarbone and wide shoulders. As your digits trace her bicep, she finally looks at you for a moment. The tension is palpable, your question still hanging in the air. 
“You’re impossible,” She murmurs, her eyes flicking away again, “And you’re despicable. You think you’re bett-”
“Cut the shit,” Your hand stops right at her wrist and you wrap your much smaller hand around it. You know the real reason she won’t be your friend, it’s written all over her face, “You hate me because you want me, Abby. You always have. Almost as much as I want you.”
“Want is a strong word,” She chirps, “I was in a relationship when we were friends. I had Ow-”
“Don’t even say his fuckin’ name,” Your free hand tilts her head back toward your gaze. You hated that fucker for messing with your Abby, “Can you just indulge me? Admit that the reason you’re pissy with me is because you want me between your legs?”
You can feel her tense up, her jaw going slack. 
“Nah, don’t think that’s what I want,” Her voice finally changes. It’s more sultry, the tone shifting with the conversation. She shakes out of your grip, bringing her hand up to your chin, “Think I need to teach you a thing or two. Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, you’ve been a fuckin’ bitch and you need to be taught a lesson,” Hearing the words come out her mouth has your core clenching with anticipation. She’s silent waiting for you to agree, but you just stare at her with a smirk. “Do you need me to show you here or do you want me to show you in your room?”
“Why not yours?”
“Because Manny is there. Unless you want to give him a show like the slut I know you are.”
She makes the hair on your arms stand up. She scans your body as you contemplate your options. This is a moment you’d been waiting for, so you can’t fuck it up. You finally have her exactly where you want her. 
You can’t be caked in dirt and grime when she’s devouring you, right?
“I need a shower,” You mutter. It catches her off guard. You swallow before continuing, “I think you need one, too. So, how about we take our showers and then you can walk me back to my room.”
She doesn’t even say anything, just begins stripping off her tank top. She’s sporting a black sports bra underneath and my God, does she look good in only a bra. You have seen her in a bra before, but never with a six pack and huge arms like she has now. She smiles at your gawking. She shoves off her cargo pants, leaving her just in her underwear and bra. 
You finally come to your senses and start stripping as she walks over to one of the shower heads and turns it on. She looks excellent from the back, too, you think. 
“We don’t have all night,” She groans, watching you slowly start undoing your bra, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”
You walk towards the shower head next to the one that’s running for her. She pulls the hem of her bra up and off, revealing her full chest to you. You follow her lead, undoing the back of your bra and letting your breasts free. The water is soaking your feet and you still have your underwear on. It’s almost like a competition as to who can break first and touch the other, and it wasn’t going to be you. You shimmy your underwear off, tossing both your bra and panties to the pile outside of the shower. 
“Jesus Christ,” She howls as you let the water take over your body. Her eyes are glued to your chest, “It’s like they got bigger.”
You sneer at her comment, “I could say the same about you in general.”
“Yeah?” She slips off her underwear, leaving nothing to imagination anymore. She caves first, creeping into your stream of hot water with you and wrapping her large arms around your waist. Chills shoot up every part of your body when her lips dip down to leave open mouth kisses on your shoulder blade. Her hands trail upward from your hips to your stomach to your tits. You watch in disbelief when her massive hands take up most of your boobs. She cradles them in her palms before massaging you tenderly. You’re already a moaning mess, pushing your ass into her crotch. 
“Let’s get you clean since that’s what you want,” She drops your boobs before reaching out for her soap. She starts to lather herself up before her hands return to your buzzing body. You let her hands wander, coating you in her pine soap. You didn’t care for the scent, but it smelled like her and you always wanted that scent on your body. 
She manhandles you a bit before using your arm to twist you around to face her. She’s staring down at you, her pupils dark with desire. You realize her hair is still in a braid and resting on her bare shoulder. While she continues to rub you down, you grab the end of her braid and start to undo it. 
When her wavy hair is released from the hair tie, you realize how long it is now. No wonder she keeps it braided, it must get in her way. 
“May need to rebraid your hair,” You mutter, your hand still dancing around her decolletage.
“I’ll just have you hold it up while I eat you out.”
You smirk as she focuses her attention on pinching and tugging on your hard nipples. You ogle her, unsure how you got here. Earlier she was threatening to kill you, now she’s toying with your body and leaving you the wettest you’ve ever been. She backs you into the water, having you rinse off the suds. 
“Abby,” You finally catch her gaze and her lips are pursed in concentration. She looks at your expression and then it finally happens. She kisses you, feverishly. You almost slip on the wet floor as she aggressively pushes you back against the tiled wall. Luckily, her arm is completely enveloping your hip, keeping you stable against her. Your bodies are wet and burning with desire, eager to touch every inch of each other. Abby pulls away, catching her breath. 
“We need to speed this part up, I need to fuck you.”
You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her neck, “We are having fun though, aren’t we?”
She shakes her head, “Rinse yourself off, no more back talk.”
She pulls away from you, quickly showering herself. You don’t even wash your hair like you need to, you just watch her lather her body up, slowly circling your clit with your middle and pointer finger. She does not even realize what you’re doing until you are moaning in her direction. 
“You’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
She pulls your hand away from your sensitive nub, using you as leverage when she gets on her knees. She’s staring up at you, pulling you forward by your ass. She looks too good at this angle. 
“Please, Abby,” You beg, wanting her to devour you whole.
“Hold my hair, baby. Just like I said.”
She nudges your knees apart, her face centimeters from your dripping core. She uses her long fingers to spread apart your pussy lips, soaking in the fact that she was the one who made you this wet. You reach down, pulling her long locks upward to get them off her shoulders. When she creeps in closer, her tongue is extended outward. As soon as it makes contact with your slit, you throw your head back, your hand full of hair loosening. She works her tongue around your pussy, pressing forward even more. She has her full face in you, her nose poking your clit every time she moves her tongue and lips. 
You’ve never been eaten out like this before. She’s a starved woman, begging you to feed her your sweet juices. Your knees feel like they could give out at any moment, so you grip onto her shoulder to balance yourself. She’s switching between slurping and sucking, her mouth working magic on your senstive pussy. 
Just when you think her head can’t get any better, her fingers enter the equation. She slips her long fingers between your slit, finding your hole after exploring for a moment. She guides one finger into you, then two. She’s groaning into you, watching your body twitch under her touch. She’s fucking you so fast, you can feel yourself teetering over the edge. She switches up her moves, flicking her tongue on your clit and fucking you slower. It sends you into bliss, your mouth agape as you stare down at her pressed against your core. You cry out, trying your best not to let your legs surrender to your weight.
“Yes baby,” She watches you fall apart, her finger tips swiping over your clit fast, “That’s right, cumming apart on my tongue. That’s so hot.”
Your vision is hazy, but you can still make out Abby as she stands up. Her hands rest on your waist as she brings you into a ravenous kiss. You’re still in a daze from your orgasm as she shuts off the warm water behind you. She’s guiding you out of the showers, bringing you back to your clothes and towel. She helps you by wrapping your towel around your center.
“You okay to walk back to your room?” She questions, watching you shakingly dry yourself off. 
You chuckle a bit, “Why? Do you want to carry me or something?”
She gives you a smug look, “Do you need me to?”
You want to smack the expression clear off her face. The freckles that litter her face scrunch in a teasing manner, which makes you melt a bit. You continue drying off before you throw back on your pants and shirt. You would be taking them off within the next two minutes, anyway, but you had to make it through the main hallways. 
Abby does the same thing before she gathers all her belongings and waits for you. As you rake your fingers through your hair, she jokingly starts tapping her foot.
“Can you relax?”
She shakes her head “no”. You roll your eyes, grabbing all your things and leading the way to your room. 
Abby knew your room would be better because you were graced with a room all by yourself. Courtesy of being Isaac’s top dog. 
You were vigilant about keeping a clean suite, always making sure your limited belongings had a place. You did not have people in your room often, so you were a bit nervous to have Abby Anderson in your room. 
She trails behind you closely, grunting every so often to indicate her impatience. Once you're outside your room, you unlock it with the key around your neck. It was easier to keep it on your chain, you hated stuffing your pockets with loose items. 
The cold air hits your skin. You were known for keeping a cold room. You always ran hot at night and you refused to sweat. When Abby walks into your suite, she starts to laugh. You lay down your towel and undergarments. 
“What’s so funny?” You ask, your wet hair sticking to your shoulders.
“You haven’t changed at all,” She grumbles, tossing her stuff in a pile beside your front door. The comment takes you off guard, simply because you spent years trying to be someone different.
“Why do you think that?”
“You are still so Type A,” She’s bounding towards you, stopping centimeters from your still-orgasm-dazed body, “You always run hot. It’s fuckin’ freezing in here.”
She’s cowering over you, her hot breath getting closer to your face. Before she can kiss you, she averts her head to the crook of your neck. 
“You still smell of lavender,” She kisses your pulse point before continuing, “And you need attention or else you’ll die. You thrive off pissing everyone off.”
“Especially you,” You practically moan as she continues to kiss your throat. When you say that, she lifts her head and stares down at you. She’s so symmetrical and beautiful. You loved seeing every freckle, every wrinkle of her nose. The fullness of her pink lips. 
“Especially me, that’s right.”
She pulls you in again, this time using her large hands to push your ass forward, capturing your lips as you melt into her grip. You move fluidly with her direction, peeling off your clothes again and frenching her when her lips slip open. Your tongues battle but you fully submit when she slowly bites down. She’s hungry for more.
You grab onto her forearms, tugging her towards your full size bed in the corner of the room. 
You always kept your blinds drawn, not allowing the large windows to expose your personal space. You’re silently thanking the angels for your obsessiveness because if someone spotted you and Abby right now, it would somehow get back to Isaac. He would have a cow if he found you two messing around. That’s too much of a distraction and you need to focus on the “mission”. 
Well, right now your mission is to make Abby cum.
You two fall on the bed, her hands still resting on the curve of your ass. She groans when you pull away from her lips. You tug at her shirt, gesturing to her to rid herself of her clothes. She obliges and she’s finally naked in your bed. You could die happy. 
You were too caught up in her touching you earlier, now you want to feel her. When the cold air touches her nipples, you notice them stand at attention. You practically fall into her chest, latching your mouth onto her tits, sucking the skin. She moans out, her hips reacting by pressing forward into you. You swirl your wet tongue around her areola, teasing her sensitive nipples. 
“God damn,” She whimpers, her hands exploring your hips. You use your teeth, nibbling slightly as you pull away from her one boob. She falls onto her back, releasing you from her grip. You crawl on top of her, straddling her waist with your thighs. You press your slick entrance on top of her mound, dragging it back and forth, teasing her. 
“You want me to touch your pretty pussy with my mouth?” You ask, resting your hands on her abs. She was so built, just tracing the outline of her 6-pack made you quiver. 
“God yes.”
Her voice is deeper, her pleasure taking over her vocal chords. You grind down on her before you shimmy down her legs and settle between her thighs. You lay on your tummy, lining up your face with her middle. 
She’s dripping, her entrance waiting for your fingers and mouth. You loved returning the favor, especially for women. You got off on hearing a woman chant your name as you alternate between licking and sucking. It would always boost your ego, but now that it’s Abby in your bed? You’ll be satisfied if she’s the last one to ever get in bed with you. 
She talked a big game about “teaching you a lesson” but here you are, shoving your fingers deep inside her and fucking her with your tongue. You smirk at the thought, watching her face twist in delight. You swirl your tongue around her sensitive throbbing clit. You were fed off her reactions, your eagerness to make her feel good increasing the more she cried out. 
You wrap your lips around her clit as you’re three fingers deep, fucking her steadily. As soon as you start the suction on her pussy, Abby is falling apart on your face. It’s a quick reaction, which gives you a bit of an ego boost. You watch her stomach flex, her jaw clench, and her mouth let out a guttural moan. 
Once she catches her breath, you slide off the bed, heading to your side table. You open the drawer, searching for the one thing that Abby could use to teach you a lesson. 
You pull out the black strap on you found a couple months ago at an abandoned sex store downtown. You haven’t used it yet, but you did make the effort to clean it before you tucked it away. This seemed like the perfect time for it to shine. 
You show Abby, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She snatches it from you, giggling as she stands up. 
“It’s like putting underwear,” You explain as she messes with the strap. It was like a thong with a dick attached. Very advanced technology.
“It’s perfect,” She whispers, sliding it over her massively thick thighs. Once she gets it on, it’s kind of silly to look at. Seeing Abby with a massive cock made you chuckle, but instead of following your reaction, it’s like it gave her a newfound attitude. 
It’s like a switch goes off. Instead of slowing down after an orgasm, like you, she manhandles you and grabs your biceps. She tows you up to her naked body before she pins you down to the bed. She plants herself like a tree between your legs, the large silicone dick nudging your inner thighs. You still can see her glistening core through the straps. 
“I need to watch you come apart again,” She explains as she holds the cock in her hand, “Wanna watch you cum over and over again.”
Her hair is messily over her shoulders, so when she leans down to stare down at the dick sliding between your folds, it falls in her face. She tucks it behind her ears, but it still drifts down her chest. You circle your hips, sighing at the feeling of the ridges of the dildo against your sensitivity. 
“Fuckin’ hair,” She fusses. You giggle a bit, watching her throw it back over her shoulders. You nudge her shoulder, using some force to pull her over your body. She leans down, her hair falling onto your face. 
“I’ll hold it for you, just make me feel good,” You murmur, using both hands to gather her hair. She gasps as you tug on her locks. You use some of the leverage you have to position her even closer to you. She reaches between your bodies and coats the cock in your slick. As soon as she teases your entrance with it, you pull her hair back. It sends her over the edge as she eases the dick inside you. It hurts a bit, so when she draws back you tell her to coat it in her saliva. She does what she’s told, spitting into her free hand a couple times and covering the appendage with it. 
Once she eases in again, the stretch feels better with the lubrication. Your thighs want to clench so bad, but the way she’s resting on you, you have no way to. She draws in and out of your pussy, grunting at the impact. 
It feels so good, but part of you wishes you just had her beautifully long fingers inside you. 
She moves your hands away from her hair and throws her head back, tossing her blond hair back. She props your legs up, plowing into you. You’re crying out, your ears ringing with the sound of your own heartbeat. 
“God, I need you to cum, baby,” She mumbles, kissing your knee as your body starts to vibrate. The cock is hitting you in all the right spots, but you need more. You reach down, using the pads of your fingers to stimulate your clit.
“Please don’t stop!”
It riles her up more, her pace quickening with every gasp. She pushes your fingers away, replacing them with her own. The pressure she applies sends your body into overdrive. Between her moans and the physicality, your orgasm hits you like a train. She fucks you through it, mumbling phrases like “that’s my good girl” and “yes baby, give it to me”. 
Once it’s over, it feels like your heart may beat out of your chest. She pulls the strap out and stands up beside your bed, shoving it off her hips. You watch her closely as she props the item up on your side table. She’s careful not to mess with any of you meticulously placed knick knacks. 
“You good?” She asks, her voice cracking a bit. 
She wanted to say more, but as she looks at you all fucked out on your bed, she feels a pang of guilt. She should not be indulging in this type of stuff, especially when you’re going against the cause. Abby had it made here, she can’t risk anything. 
“‘m all good, Abs. Do you wanna stay?”
She shakes her head negatively. 
“I think I’m gonna head back to my room. We gotta be up in a couple hours.”
You notice she’s being cold, which sends you into a spiral. You want to reassure her, but you know deep down she’s already made up her mind. 
You clear your throat, “Well, we can at least wake up together.”
“No, I don't think that’s the best idea,” She explains as she finds her clothes across your bedroom. She lays them on the bed beside you as she starts to dress herself. She has this look of concern on her face. It makes you physically ill, knowing it’s the face of regret. 
“Well, I guess we are back to square one.”
She throws her shirt over her head before she’s gathering up her things and practically running to the door. You want to pick up the dildo and sling it at her head. You can’t believe this. 
She reaches for the door before turning around to face you, “Guess so.”
PART 2 is HERE
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nexysworld · 3 months
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Chapter Summary: You wake up dazed and confused, no memory of anything he was saying. But it's Leon, and you can trust him right? Besides, maybe a vacation is exactly what you needed. Pairing: Yandere!RE4R Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn. Psychological manipulation, abuse of power, etc. no use of y/n. PTSD, flashbacks. There is smut this chapter. WC: 9.5k
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 It’d been a long time since you had such a good night's sleep, not even realizing the way you conked out completely on top of Leon. The even sound of his heartbeat in your ear – ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump – lulled you like the world’s best white noise machine. His warmth was comforting in a way no space heater could be. The smell of his fresh and spicy cologne was familiar. The combination was killer and before you knew it, not even the rumbling in your stomach was enough to keep you awake on top of him. It was reminiscent of the nights you’d spent in his apartment all those weeks ago after everything happened. Leon was your comfort, he was your safe space. After speaking with Dr. Birkin, while still not fully having come to terms with things, you were at least able to get rid of the guilt and lean into the man under you – leaving you weightless, at least for the moment. 
When you woke, it was due to the feeling of wind on your face, cold air stinging at your nose. The feeling of confinement made you panic, gasping as you clawed around until you realized you were no longer on your couch, but Leon’s jeep. 
“You good?” He asked, looking over to you. You were too busy looking around in confusion, panting as you tried to calm down. “Yeah I’m just… I’m confused.” “Confused about what?” He asked, cooly flipping on the blinker, his free hand making its way over to your thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“We were on the couch, and now I’m in the car. What happened?” “That was this morning, don’t you remember?” You shook your head. “No, no I –” “Hey, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You’re probably just tired.” 
It was dark out, definitely well into the middle of the night if you had to guess. The only lights were the high beams of his jeep and the overhead moon — no familiarity of the city. Just thick trees and empty grass fields every now and then. If Leon hadn’t been with you, heavy hand on your leg, you’d have panicked from sheer lack of awareness. The sound of his voice cleared your head. “I honestly thought you’d have been out longer.” “I don’t understand.” You paused for a moment, fidgeting with the soft knit sleeves of your sweater — you hadn’t remembered changing clothes either. “We fell asleep on my couch after ordering food. I don’t remember anything after that . . . but I don’t get why I was tired again if we slept. Where are we even going? Leon, I’m really confused right now.” “Hey, hey. It’s alright.” He cooed, moving the hand that was resting on your thigh to gently pry your own from its fidgeting, kissing your knuckles gently. “Relax.” “That doesn’t answer—“ “I’m getting to that.” He assured, laying your hand back onto your lap with his on top. Whatever road you were on was long and winding, barely even speed signs posted throughout. “Sometimes people are just tired, it happens. After we woke up we ate the leftover food, you were talking about stress. I said you needed to relax, I suggested we go on a trip, away from it all for a change.” An odd uneasiness washed over you at his words. “I don’t remember any of that.” Flashbacks were coming to you the more you saw the pathway, the drive out to the camping spot with Derek, what came next. ‘That wasn’t real. That wasn’t real.’ You tensed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you. “We’re not going camping right?” “No. No, of course not!” “Where are we going then?” “To an old farmhouse.” He said casually. “It’s actually mine. Was left to me by someone I guess I’d consider my adopted father when he passed away. It’s old, but the land is beautiful, there’s tons of cute critters you can see too. Hey, you alright?” “I don’t know. I guess I’m just held up on the fact that I don’t remember any of this.” “Well you know, gaps in memory are a thing. That’s what the Doctor said, right?” “Yeah I guess, but this just feels so immediate. I mean — my job requires two weeks notice. It just doesn’t sound like me to do something so abrupt.” “I took care of it.” “What?” “Your job, I took care of it for you. You brought that up as your first concern. And then your meeting with Doctor Barkin. I have you covered on both fronts, he can do virtual sessions.” “Oh. Ok.” A thick silence overcame you both as you settled back into the carseat, rubbing at your tired eyes. “What about Mrs. Wilson?” “What about her?”  “I was still checking in on her when I could…even after…you know…when my leg was hurt. At least I tried to.” Truthfully it had only been a few times over the course of those weeks that you managed to make it over to the old woman’s apartment. But you did call more often to check-in, ordered groceries and other items she needed. “Don’t worry about that either.” “You sure?” “Yeah. I promise, I have everything taken care of. All you need to do is relax, rest. It’ll be alright.” “Ok.” What else could you say? It felt strange, the whole situation felt strange, but everything always did. There was no point in questioning him further or arguing, so you instead focused on the drive, sitting quietly in your seat. 
“We’re almost there.” He added, breaking the tension. “Maybe 30 more minutes at most.”
You nodded in response, returning to leaning against the doorframe watching the scenery pass by. The road had narrowed out into an open field, the pavement replaced by a dirt road that expanded farther out than you could see past the headlights. It felt eerie in an existential way, the expanse of field, being the only two alone on the empty road. It made you feel small and uneasy. True to his word, no more than 30 minutes later, the dirt road narrowed further into a tight path of trees with only enough room for one vehicle to pass. The dark tube of greenery opened up to reveal the house, just as Leon described. An old fashioned farm house — two stories with a gigantic wrap around deck. In the dim light it was hard to make out much more detail than that. “Here we are.” 
The inside was nicer than expected — but then given the upgrades Leon had made to his apartment, maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The plush sectional in the living room was huge, followed by a large TV mounted to the wall. Unlike his apartment there was more decor hung to the walls, little knick knacks scattered around. The place looked nice, lived in. 
You felt his arm wrap around you from behind, gently corralling you towards the staircase. Opposite of the stairs was a door, it looked different from the others you’d seen so far, too sturdy looking. A keypad type lock was above the hook-styled doorknob. “That’s fancy.” You pointed out as you let him guide you further up the stairs.  “Oh yeah – I keep some work equipment down there.” He replied quickly, his other hand adjusting to lift the bags he was carrying, ensuring they didn’t smack the stairs as he went.  The top floor plan was simple, two bedrooms, a large open area that connected to an upstairs balcony, and of course a bathroom. The bedroom was different, less modern than the setup of the downstairs. It was like it was ripped out of a vintage magazine, a fancy blue duvet set and a sturdy dark wood bed frame holding the king sized bed all together. No closet to be seen, but there was a matching dresser and wardrobe set. It was cozy. 
You followed Leon’s lead, setting your phone on the nightstand before unpacking your things. 
“You hungry?” He asked, folding the last of his things into the dresser drawer.  “A little, yeah.” 
“I can do breakfast for dinner. Tomorrow we can go to the store to get some actual groceries.” “Sounds good to me.” 
You followed him back downstairs, leaning against the island, watching as he flicked on the burner to heat up the pan. The smokey scent of bacon and the popping sizzle of grease filled the kitchen, making your stomach rumble. It felt domestic in a nice way, normal. You watched his broad shoulders from behind as he focused on cooking. You had the urge to hug him from behind, press a kiss to his back – you didn’t act on it though. 
The relationship between you was still strange, you weren’t able to put a label on it. Whatever the two of you were was trapped in some liminal space between couple, friends, and caretaker. It made you freeze before initiating on your end, even if you’d never deny it when he does it. To not have to deal with the feelings, you chose to take a better look around while you waited. Circling the living room a few times, running your hand over the soft fabric of the couch, before swinging around through the french doors into what looked like a sunroom repurposed into a library. The walls were covered in large bookshelves, each filled. Most were encyclopedias, college textbooks, science books for things you didn’t quite understand. There was a desk in the corner, an older looking laptop caked in dust sat on it. 
Nothing was really interesting to look at, you were going to return to Leon when you noticed an open shoebox settled on one of the shelves, almost missing it as it sat atop some shorter books. It felt like snooping, but your curiosity got the better of you, pulling it down to peek. It didn’t have a lot, some documents with a few pictures scattered. 
The first was an image of a younger looking Leon, same cropped hair and smile, but with far more boyish features. He was standing next to a stern looking man in a police uniform. Leon was holding what looked like a diploma of some kind. The next was a much more recent photo, dated for only a few months before you and Leon had even met. He was wearing that suit you saw him pack for work. “Oh shit –” You muttered to yourself, noting the girl standing next to him. “Ashley Graham?” It made sense, he worked for the government, but still, the president’s daughter? It seemed more than professional, the way he smiled at her, hand on his shoulder. 
You went to toss both images back into the box when you realized that the first had another stuck to it. It was just a picture of a girl, brown hair pulled over her shoulder as she looked off into the distance, sitting on a bench. There was nothing really noteworthy about it, no label or date either.  
“What are you doing?” Leon’s voice nearly made you jump out of your skin, seeing him standing in the doorway. “Sorry, I was just looking.” “Where’d you get those?”  “They were just in this box, sorry, I shouldn’t have looked without asking.” He took the photos from your hand eyeing them before tossing them back into the box for you. “It’s fine. I thought I’d tossed them all anyway.” He said, chucking the whole box into the trash on his way back to the kitchen.  “Why’d you do that?” 
“They’re just memories I’d rather not remember.” He said coolly as he set the plated food out on the kitchen island. 
“I can respect that.” You replied, not questioning him further. If there was anything you understood, it would be wanting to rid yourself of certain memories – though his were real pieces of his life. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following morning started off rough. Out of habit you went to grab your phone off the nightstand the moment your eyes cracked open – yet all you felt was the hard wood of the table. You slapped your hand around a few times, still not feeling it. By the time Leon had woken up, you were buried into the wardrobe, digging into pockets of your own clothing, searching the bags too.  “What’s up?” He asked with a yawn, scratching the side of his head. Parts of his hair stuck up a little unkempt from sleeping. You frowned at him, shutting the wardrobe’s doors. “I can’t find my phone. I had it last night.” He nodded at you, rubbing some sleep from his eyes. “You sure? I don’t remember seeing it.” “Leon don’t… don’t say that please.”
“Ok, ok. Let me call it.” He plucked his own phone up, you could hear the quiet dial tone and ringing through his speaker, but no vibration or ringing anywhere else in the room. You chewed your lip out of frustration, tapping your foot on the ground. He rested his hands on your shoulders giving them a light squeeze. “Look, it’s almost time for your appointment with Dr. Birkin. Why don’t you focus on that and I’ll look for it?” “Well how am I supposed to even go to said appointment witho–” “I got you covered.” He said, placing a quick kiss to your temple. “Laptop downstairs, already logged in. Set it up last night.”
“Alright.” You conceded, not having much choice in the matter anyway. 
The appointment itself was standard. You talked about your feelings, he asked questions here and there. You answered. It didn’t feel nearly as emotionally heavy this time as before, and if anything you left feeling better having spoken about things again. It was also another sobering reminder of how much you needed Leon – how out of it you’d be without him. 
Stretching from the hour of sitting in an office chair, Leon knocked on the door frame to get your attention before making his way to you.  “How did it go?” “It went well.” “I’m glad to hear that.” 
“Did you ever find my phone?” “Unfortunately not, I checked everywhere, including the jeep.” “I guess I must’ve left it at home.”
“One less distraction from your mini vacation.” “Mmmm true.” You conceded, following him out the library. “You still need company for that trip to the store?” “Would be lonely going alone. Might even get lost in one of the aisles.” He said with that signature smirk of his. 
You couldn’t help but laugh in return. “Can’t let that happen.” The air outside was a little nippy, not wanting to change you asked if you could borrow a jacket. He pointed you to the hall closet, the one just inside the front door. You prodded around, there were several of what you assumed were Leon’s hanging up. A leather one with white stripes on the arms had your interest, you almost grabbed it when you saw a different one next to it. The bright red color caught your eye as you moved to pull it off of the hanger. It was smaller than the others, a woman’s styled leather jacket. You wondered for a moment why he would have something like that – an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy sparking up for a moment, you pushed it away telling yourself it didn’t matter. You slid the jacket on, fitting like a glove. It still had the lingering scent of perfume on it, one you recognized as your own. Not lingering to think about the situation further, you ran back out to the jeep. “There you are. Took so long I was starting to think you got lost in there.” When Leon lifted his head from the radio to look at you, his expression changed entirely, posture stiffening up like a cat.  “Yeah, almost found my way to Narnia.” You joked, settling into the carseat. “Why are you wearing that?” His voice was sharp, sounding like some kind of accusation, not a question.  “Well all I found were heavy winter coats and leather jackets. I saw this and thought it would be a better fit.” His knuckles turned white as he grasped onto the steering wheel, vision straight ahead at the house. He held his breath in for a moment, like a cartoon character about to pop and let steam out of their ears. “That belongs to her, it isn’t for you to wear.”  You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Immediately you were on edge, swallowing down that nervous dryness in your throat. “I’m sorry – “ “Take it off.” “Right, I can go grab another —” “No, give it to me.” He said, putting his hand out expectantly. 
Not wanting to argue with him, and more confused than anything, you quickly unzipped the jacket, sliding it off and handing it to him. Shuddering a little from the cold breeze hitting you now. He took it, tossing it into the back seat, his other hand still glued to the wheel, squeezing it tightly.  “I’m sorry if I did something wrong.” “I think it’s best if you stay here.” “But Leon “ “Out of the car!” He snapped, this time pointing back to the house. The sound of his voice made you jump in your seat, scrambling to open the door and step out onto the grassy ground. The moment the jeep’s door was shut, he was backing away so loud the tires whirred loudly, kicking up some of the dirt on the ground as he spun it around and took off down the road, leaving you where you stood, some mud specks on your face.  It reminded you of the movie theaters, getting left there out in the cold. The hurt and anxiety you felt after. But this was really happening, and you had no idea why. Standing there for a few seconds, like a lost child, you looked around taking in the place now in the view of sunlight. The dark trees that wrapped around the property danced in the wind. The house itself is more visible, the wooden exterior plated over itself, white painting chipping from the sides. You moved to stand on the wrap-around patio, following it around the house and towards the back yard to get a better view of the property you couldn’t see in the shadows of the previous night. 
There wasn’t much to see from where you stood. A small garden in the back that hadn’t been maintained in sometime from the wild weeds and flowers that were scattered about. A decorative white fence latticed in vines and other foliage wrapped around the backyard, separating that section of land from the rest. Your standard hammock like bench-swing swung idly in the wind on the back part of the patio.
With nothing more to see and the chill of the outside creeping up again, you made your way back inside, relishing in the warmth of the house. Not sure how long you decided to stay outside, or even what time it was, instinctively you reached for your phone, patting at your pocket before remembering that it wasn’t with you. ‘Shit.’ You cursed inwardly, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
Without Leon around, the house felt huge. It occurred to you that you were really all alone out in the middle of nowhere. No vehicle, no Leon, and not even a phone. It made your spine tingle, you squirmed a bit in place to get the feeling to go away before deciding to flop onto the couch.
‘I don’t get why he’s so upset. I would’ve just changed.’ You thought to yourself, mindlessly flipping through streaming apps. ‘Who is she anyway?’ The thought of Leon being angry with you made you want to cry. You didn’t though – managing to keep it together enough to idly watch some stupid show. 
You hadn’t really paid attention to how many episodes you watched or how much time had passed. The soft rumbling of your stomach was the only other indicator that it had been awhile. As if on cue, you could hear the familiar sound of the jeep’s engine outside, whirring to a stop. Next came the inevitable footsteps on the porch, followed by the door opening. 
Like a puppy, you bounded from the couch over to the sound, careful to get too close, scared he was still upset with you. There he was, hair slicked back slightly, multiple bags of groceries dangling on each arm.  “Is that all of them, I can help –” “I got it.” He said flatly. The words cut you, deflated you.  “Oh, ok.” You heeled back a bit, not moving from your spot. ‘So he is still mad.’ Tearing your eyes off of him, you looked down at the floor, fidgeting with your hands as you worked up to the courage to do or say something. The consideration to return to the couch won and you scurried back to sit and go back to your show.
A while later, the smell of food filled your nose, and a plate was held before you. Your eyes trailed up the muscular arm to meet Leon’s gaze as you took it from him. “Thank you…and hey look about earlier, I’m sorry.”
He sat next to you on the couch, his entire posture more relaxed than earlier. Setting his own plate down on the coffee table, and leaned back, one arm slung casually over the back of the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s over with.” You nodded, taking a small bite of the pasta you twirled up on your fork. The silence lingering over the both of you made you feel heavy. Against your better judgment, you looked over to him and prodded. “Can I ask who she was?” He looked a little short circuited as he processed the question, like he was deciding what the right answer was. “An ex.”  “Oh.” “Let’s just say things didn’t end on good terms. I don’t really want to talk about it.” “Right, I’m sorry.”  “Don’t be. You didn’t know.” He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before grabbing his plate to eat himself. “You know.” He added, “It’s still early enough in the day. I was thinking we should still get out of the house.” “Sure. Did you have something in mind?” “Yeah, a surprise.” He added with a big smirk.  You couldn’t help but match his smile, the corners of your mouth tugging up instinctively. “Sounds good.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the late afternoon, nearly early evening when you found yourself out by the lake. There was a small dirt path that led from the backyard and down through the woods. It had opened up to a small clearing by the water, some crude seating and a stone-campfire set up already there. 
Initially there was trepidation on your part, worried that the site of the woods might stir some of those bad memories up. He managed to convince you though, promising to take you back the moment you became uncomfortable if you wanted. 
So far things were ok. The last of the warm sun beat down onto your back as you laid out on the soft towel beneath you. It was refreshing and relaxing – it’d been so long since you’d had that full sense of pure normalcy and relief.  Arms crossed under your head, you watched Leon as waded through the shallower part of the water. He stopped when the water landed just below his navel, looking out towards the trees behind you. 
Your eyes ran from the dusty blonde happy trail upwards, over his abs and to his pecs, before finally landing on his eyes. The way the warm tones of the sunset casted down onto him, made him look beautiful, like he belonged in a painting. The blonde in his hair was contrasted by the different shades of purple and orange that lit his right side. Before the light of the day was finally gone, you wanted to get closer – see if it did wonders for the pools of blue in his eyes. 
Stretching out like a cat, you languidly crawled to your feet, wading into the cool water. A slight hiss escaped you at the abrupt change in temperature, but you continued forward until you reached him.  “Well hello there.” He looked down at you running his wet thumb over your collar bone slightly. “Almost thought you were sleeping over there.” “Almost was.” You confirmed. “But that was before I realized there was a view to admire.” This moment felt familiar, safe.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about the lake?” That damn smirk again, got you every time. Your theory was right too, the specks and hues of blue stood out under his thick eyelashes as he looked down at you. He was gorgeous. So very Leon.  “Well maybe that’s because I’m not.” Placing a hand on his chest, you moved a little closer to him. 
“You’re not talkin’ about me are you?” “I just might be.” Leaning real close, you nearly stood on your tip toes, lips so close you could feel his breath gently fanning your face. You could see what he was expecting as his lips twitched. Unfortunately for him you broke the tension by splashing some water on him, your own smile twisting into an amused smirk.  “You play dirty.” He accused, splashing back at you. “Get back over here coward.” He said playfully, following you as you cowered back to shore to avoid his onslaught of water, stopping every now and then to launch a counter attack. 
Your back hit the soft sand of the shore, him on top of you, elbows on either side of your head. You couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesy exchange, genuine happiness rumbling in your chest. “Very cute, sweetheart.”  “I’d like to think so.” 
Again you were close, face to face, but it was his turn to deny you. He pushed himself up and out of the water. “It’ll be dark soon. You want to go back?” Pondering the question for a moment, you shook your head. “Not yet. I’m having a good time.” “Glad to hear it.” Digging around through the bag he’d brought out with the both of you, he pulled out a zippo lighter and some bundle of what almost looked like tumbleweed tied together. He held the small flame to the fire starter before tossing it into the bundle of wood that had been left in the fire pit. 
Everything was fine at first until the licking flames picked up intensity, the entirety of the pit filling with the dancing orange and yellow lights – high enough for the heat of the flame to slap against your face. A tightness in your chest formed, freezing you in place like a statue. Your throat dried and contracted like trying to breath in dust.  
“My head. It’s splitting my head.” Your head turned side to side, scanning for the source of the voice. The world around you black besides the flames. 
“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”
The words were so loud it was like a flashbang against your ears, brain rattling in your head. You couldn’t focus on anything, the hazy colors before your eyes turning into a kaleidoscope from the water forming in your eyes.  “IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”
You couldn’t breathe at all now, gasping desperately for air. Every time you blinked a shadowy figure moved in the fire, a tentacle-like outline whipped about above it. ‘Leon. Leon please I’m scared.’ You couldn’t get the words to vocalize out of your mouth, trapped in your throat. 
“Sweetheart?” Leon’s voice whispered in your ear, two large arms snaking around you from behind to hold you close. “It’s ok. Breathe baby.” He cooed. You squeezed your eyes shut, gulping down as much air as you could. “There you go. There you go.” You did it a second time, and a third, until your breathing evened out and you could ground yourself where you stood. The heat of his torso was pressed against your back, the weighted feelings of his arms. “I’m right here. You’re safe.” 
When you dared to crack your eyes open again, the world was normal. No shadowy blackness, no bleak figure, just the fire crackling in front of you. The trees swishing back and forth, lit up by the twinkling stars and moon, sun having fully set. And of course, Leon. You spun in his arms, wrapping your own around him, he tightened the hug holding you close. “God I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I….god.” “Shhh. Shhhh.” He rubbed your back softly. “Why don’t we head back?” “No!” You snapped, looking up at him. “No, I don’t want to go back yet.” He flashed you a confused look, opening to say something, but you cut him off. “Please. I was having such a good time. I’m sick of being crazy. I…it was just one incident. I don’t want to go yet.” “Ok.” He agreed. “Ok, we won’t go yet.” Conceding his tucked some of your hair behind your ear again, clearly still concerned, but not pushing it. 
You plopped down onto the towel, facing the fire. No more threatening images for the time being. The two of you sat in silence, his hand over yours on the ground. It took a while for your heart rate to fully go back to normal, for the feeling of being on edge to fully dissipate, but once it did you felt like you were floating, just sitting next to him – like his hand was an anchor and without it you’d just drift away into the vast emptiness of the sky. You didn’t deserve him but  God you were sure you loved him – the first time you could admit it even inside your own thoughts. It was freeing. No guilt or shame attached, just the gooey feeling of contentment.
 “Leon?” “Hmm?” “Thank you. For all of this.” “Don’t mention it.” “I mean it.” “I know.” He lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently.  “I like you.” He let out a soft chuckle against your knuckles. “Well geez, I’d hope so. I like you too.” 
It felt a little pathetic to announce yourself that way. “Can I ask you something?” “Shoot.”  “What are we?” 
He looked up to meet your gaze, his expression soft but serious. You watched Adam's apple flex as he swallowed nothing, analyzing the question. “What do you want us to be?” “Maybe more than friends?” You offered a non-absolute answer, nervous of any true rejection.  “I think we already are more than friends.” “Well yeah, true.” You tapered the conversation off, not brave enough to ask for more definitives just yet.
He dropped your hand in favor of scooting closer to you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you onto his lap. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really feeling.”  “Why are you so perfect?” Your words were barely above a whisper as you slunk your arms around his shoulders.  “Far from it, actually.”  “Disagree. God I disagree.” His retort stopped dead when you blurted out the next words so quickly they shocked even yourself. “I think I love you.” You’re not sure you’d even seen him with such a deer in the headlights expression on his face before, it made you feel the urge to backtrack, suck the words right back in. “I’m sorr –” He pressed his lips against yours, silencing any apology. Your heart skipped a beat, blood feeling boiling hot each time it pumped through you. You returned the kiss this time, softly, slowly. It wasn’t like the quick passion at his apartment. “Can I have you?” You whispered into his neck, kissing at his pulse.  “I’m already yours.”  You responded by nipping at that same spot. “Take me?” 
He sucked in a breath at the sensation, squeezing you a little tighter to him. You could feel his cock twitch in his swim shorts. “Are you sure?” His voice was low. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again, move too fast.”
“I’m sure this time. Very sure. Please, I just want you.” 
He pulled you back from him just enough to scan your face, giving you one more moment to back out. When you didn’t say anything else, he kissed you again, this time leaning forward with you until you were laying on your back. His lips were as soft and plush as you remembered them, making you want more. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He asked, mouthing more kisses along your neck and chest. He made quick work of your bathing suit top, sliding the straps out of their tied knot and tossing it gently to the side. Arousal mixed with the light breeze blowing the warmth of the fire past you made your nipples perk up, sensitive as ever. It didn’t go unnoticed by him as he took the opportunity to run his tongue along your collarbone before following down the center of your chest. The trail of saliva left behind drying in the outside air making your skin tingle in the best possible way. 
He pressed another kiss to the side of your right breast before he teased your nipple, flicking it with licks of his tongue a few times before sucking it into his mouth. The sensation made you squirm beneath him, thighs squeezing together around his leg that was planted between them. By the time he’d moved on to your other tit, you were rubbing yourself against his leg for some relief. He chuckled, popping off with a smile. “So needy baby. Must’ve been pent up these last few months.” “Mhmm” You nodded, eyes already hazed over with lust, mind empty of any critical thought.  “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel really good. Scouts honor.” He punctuated the sentence by moving down to nip  at your hip making you buck up a little. Amused by the reaction he did it again, this time on the plushness of your inner thigh while he worked the ties of your bottoms off as well, discarding them with the top. He returned to what he was doing, this time sucking a bruise into the soft skin. Then another, each one a pleasurably dull kind of pain. He flattened his tongue to each one, helping soothe out the pain. “Purple’s really your color baby.” He cooed, admiring his work. 
Your clit throbbed with need, hole begging for attention. He rested one hand on your hip, rubbing soft circles into it as he continued to tease you, pressing a kiss to your mound, another on the opposing thigh. “Leon.” You whined. “Please I need more.”  “I know, I know. I’m getting there sweetheart. Just wanna take my time, been imagining this for so long.” He rewarded your please by dragging the tip of his tongue down before flattening it against your clit, lapping at it gently. The sugary heat radiated out as you moaned, fingers working their way into his soft hair, gripping at it. 
It should’ve been no surprise Leon was good with his mouth, circling your bundle of nerves with his tongue before sucking on it gently. You’re not sure you’d ever had a lover so attentive before, not even in your false memories. “F-fuck, so good.” You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the pleasure he was giving you. You felt him sink a digit into your slicked pussy. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than the nothing that was there before. He added another finger, pumping them as he worked your clit with his tongue. 
He curled his thick fingers just right, reaching that special spot inside of you. The one that made your legs tense, clit pulse. What blood was left in your head soared to your lower half, a weak gasp escaping your mouth as you came. Your legs trembled around his head, thighs clamping shut, you’d almost be worried about crushing him if you were capable of thought. He continued to gently work you, not enough to overstimulate, but the perfect amount to draw out that pleasure until it faded to just tingles at the tips of your toes.
You were left breathless, panting as he pulled away, wiping his chin off on the back of his hand. Your eyes landed on the now fully formed tent in his shorts, expecting him to move to get it out, to fuck you into the ground. Instead, he leans back on his legs, looks down at you. The silence feels strange, and you're suddenly reminded of your location – outdoors – as the crickets pick up their chirping, the leaves of the trees crash into each other from the wind. You shiver from the breeze, until it blows in the opposite direction, sending a wave of heat from the campfire washing over you.  When he still doesn’t move, you quickly become self conscious, scared that he was changing his mind. Worry takes over your face as you prop yourself up on your elbows, before you can say it, he leans down to kiss you again. This time he  makes a point to slip his tongue into it, letting you taste yourself on him. He wraps his arm around you, holding your head in place to kiss you sloppily. He grinds against you slightly, groaning into the kiss when he does. “Don’t worry princess. I just needed to take a moment after that. Was too good, so perfect, had to take it in.” He knew you so well.  “Want you.” You mumbled against his lips. “Want you in me, wanna feel you. Wanna be close.”  “I know.” He said, reaching his hand down between you both to undo the drawstring of his shorts. He tugged them down just enough to free his erection, thick and throbbing. You couldn’t see it perfectly in the deep shadows that the fire made, but you could feel it. He ran the head along your slit a few times. “Can tell how bad you want me, she’s practically crying for me.” 
You suck in a breath at his words, feeling arousal begin to twinge between your legs again. He gently pushed the tip into your soaking folds, the stretch stinging slightly despite his earlier actions. “Oh.” You gasped as he pressed each inch slowly into you. You’d never felt so full before, like he was in your ribs – it was overwhelming and comforting at the same time. “O-oh.” You moaned, feeling him pull out again, grasping up at his shoulders.
He gave a few more slow but deep thrusts, giving you the chance to adjust and accommodate him. “That’s it baby, so tight.” He flattened his palm against your belly, pressing down making the full feeling intensify. Your back arched into his palm, adding to the sensation.  “S’big.” You whined.   “Mhmm. Just relax, you’re doing such a good job. Already taking me so well.” He readjusted your position, leaning forward and pulling your legs up at the same time to hook over his shoulders. The shift made him feel even deeper inside of you, head of his cock pushing against your cervix with each thrust. 
You didn’t even know you were this flexible when he practically folded you in half while he fucked himself into you, making sure he was close enough to pepper your face with small kisses when given the opportunity. You heard him mumbling sweet compliments between his increasingly erratic breathing, but you were too blissed out to even register the words.  “God….god…oh my god!” You squeezed the towel beneath you,, bunching it within your fists as he continued to roll his hips against you, wiry blond hair and his pubic bone bumping into your clit as his cock rubbed past that spongy spot, more sensitive now from your first orgasm.  “That’s my girl.” He sped up his pace, the sound of skin slapping mixing with the cackle of the fire as you moved from death-gripping the towel to clawing at his back, desperate for your next release, desperate to be as close as possible to him. “My pretty Bunny.” 
The pet name clicked something in your brain, and you lost yourself again, muscles tensing velvety walls tightening around his impossibly big cock as you came again. His own eyes closed, a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead to between your breasts, his own quiet noises picking up in volume, his pace erratic as he chased his own high this time. Pulsing with the aftershocks of your second orgasm, you could feel as he throbbed within you, painting your inside white with his hot seed.  Half asleep and sated, you let out a noise of disappointment when he finally pulled out, wanting to stay as close as you could to him. As if he could read your mind, he immediately pulled you into his embrace, rubbing his hand against your stomach as he spooned you from behind. 
The visual of the campfire became blurry the heavier your eyelids grew, and it wasn’t long until you were out like a light, curled against him. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You woke up some time later, scrunched up in bed. It was still dark out when you sat up to rub your eyes and yawn. You didn’t remember the journey back but you weren’t surprised Leon had managed that, likely carrying you back in your sleep. If not for your dry throat and desperate need for a glass of water, you’d have flopped right back down to resume your unconsciousness. 
Instead, you pushed your legs over the side of the bed, still a little wobbly and exhausted. In your half asleep state it took you an extra minute to register the fact that Leon hadn’t been next to you. “S’weird.” You muttered to yourself, sluggishly moving towards the door and down the hallway.  The house was dark, no light to be seen, not even from the bathroom – which you noted was open, no Leon inside. As you took a few steps down the staircase, you could see from above the living room was also dark and silent, not even the TV’s screensaver was on, and the only light emanating from the kitchen was the small light above the stove. 
A more awake version of yourself would’ve been a little more worried with his whereabouts, but for now you only had one mission – water. The moment the tap finished filling up the glass cup, you gulped it down, and then another. Soothing the cottony feeling in your mouth and the soreness of your throat. 
Relieved and quenched, you exited the kitchen heading back to bed. Though still tired, you were slightly more alert now, rubbing at your eyes again while you walked. Passing the double doors to the library room, you heard Leon’s voice, and it stopped you in your tracks.  “I miss you.”  “Huh?” The words caught your attention instantly. One of the double french doors was cracked enough that you could peer through without much effort. While the initial reaction had been jealousy, the fear he was talking to another woman on the phone, you were left dumbfounded by the reality.  He was sitting at the desk, the red jacket in his hands as he spoke. “You know I didn’t want things to end this way. I thought you were perfect for me. We could’ve been so great together.” He brought the jacket to his face, taking in a deep inhale of it, holding his breath before finally exhaling. “I blame it on him, putting those awful thoughts in your head. Tearing you away from me.” His grip on the jacket tightened so much you could see the vein in his arm flex even with just the dim lamp on the desk and the distance between you. 
‘What the hell?’ You weren’t sure what to make of what you were witnessing, but you knew it didn’t sit right with you. It was just…weird.
“I wish you didn’t force me to end things. But it’s alright, I’ve moved on. I know you’d be happy for me.” He spit onto his hand, moving it beneath the desk. A whimper left his mouth, needier, different from how he sounded above you. Wet schlicking noises told you exactly what he was doing as he sniffed the jacket again. “You both wear the same perfume. Love it so much.” He added between grunts. “God. Might take me a minute baby. Already blew a load earlier.” The sounds picked up speed.
It felt wrong to keep watching, whatever was happening was a clearly intimate moment you didn’t belong a part of. You took the opportunity to gently back away from the door, and as quietly as you could made it back up to the bedroom, pulling the thick blanket over your head, like a child fending off the boogie man.  “What. The. Fuck.” You whispered to yourself. It left you with a million questions you weren’t completely sure you wanted answers to. An amalgamation of emotions swirled in your head, confusion, worry, jealousy? You knew the jacket smelled like your perfume, but the confirmation as he jerked it to his ex made you shudder. “Gross.”
Your sleepiness had worn off, leaving you to lay awake with your thoughts. It wasn’t long after that the bedroom door creaked open, the sound of soft padding across the floor was heard before the weight of the bed sunk in behind you. Leon’s arm wasn’t comforting as it wrapped around you this time, it felt more like a weight forcing you in place. You wanted to pretend you were asleep, but the claustrophobic feeling was too much making you move a little on instinct.  “Why were you downstairs?” 
The question made the hair on your neck stand up despite his warm breath. “I needed some water.” “Mmmm, you going to lie to me now?” “What? I’m not –” “I know you were watching.” His grip around you tightened, squeezing you against him. It felt threatening in a way you couldn’t explain. “I didn’t mean to.” “It's not polite to stare.” 
“I know.”  “What were you doing downstairs?” “I told you I was just getting a drink.” “Then why were you watching?” “I heard your voice. I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry.” Tears formed quicker than you expected. He sat up slightly, rolling you to face him. His hand gripped your jaw slightly, you could barely make out his figure in the dark room. He pressed his lips to yours. “Don’t let me catch you spying again.” 
“I’m sorry.”  He didn’t reply, instead laying back down, pulling you against his chest. He rubbed your back like he normally did when you fell asleep, but no comfort came from it. The whole thing had you wigged out, bad. 
“Leon?” “Hmm?” “Is there any way we could head back tomorrow?” “We have a whole trip planned.” “I know. I just wanted to get my phone, I’ve been feeling weird without it.” You let out an awkward laugh, hoping to play it off. Really though you were desperate to be closer to other people.  “Sorry I’m not good enough company.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “No really. It’s nothing to do with you. Please, we can come back, I just really want to get it.” “No.” It was so firm it threw you off completely.  “But Leon that’s not f–”
“Leon –” “I said no. I’m not driving you hours there and back, wasting gas because you forgot your phone. You don’t even need it.” “It’s not about needing it. I’d just feel more comfortable if I had it.”
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” “I don’t want to talk about it tomorrow, I just want to go home and grab it.”  “I already said, no.” You yanked yourself away from his space, to the other side of the bed, flicking the lamp on. You can’t remember ever actually having argued with him before, at least not in a true capacity. “You’re making me uncomfortable.” “You’re being ungrateful.” 
His words sliced you like a knife, you frowned. “I’m not –” “You are.” “I want to go home. I don’t want to stay here anymore. You can’t just keep me here if I don't want to be.” “Sweetheart –” “No, I’m serious Leon. I’m not staying. I don’t know what’s up with this weird thing you have with your ex, or anything else. But I don’t want to be here anymore. I need to go home. I need space.” He clicked his tongue, sitting up. “We both know that you don’t know what you need. Just come back to bed.”
Resistant, you stood out of the bed staring down at him, face red with anger and upset. “No. Take me home right now.”  He didn’t respond immediately, scanning you with his eyes. “Sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow either.” “I –” He was making you so frustrated. “If you don’t take me home, then I’ll figure out a way home myself.” “No, you won’t.” He threw his own legs over the side of the bed, righting himself. When he turned to face you, you felt cornered. To combat the feeling you sidestepped closer to the bedroom door. “Stop.” You said, putting your hand out in front of you, palm open fingers spread out as if that would magically keep him distanced from you. “Stay there.” “Baby.” He said unamused.  “I mean it.” “What’s gotten into you?”  “I told you. You’re making me uncomfortable.” His brows came together as if he was considering what you were saying. You took the opportunity to back up from the door into the hallway. “I think you’re having an episode. I think you need to calm down.” ‘The fucking audacity.’ You thought to yourself taking another step back. Lightning lit up the hallway from the window, the boom of thunder following close behind. Rain pattered against the windows as silence took over the situation between you. He didn’t move from where he was standing in the bedroom, you didn’t move from where your feet were planted in the hallway.
“Please come back to bed?” His voice was soft now, pleading. “I’m really not sure why you’re acting this way right now. But I’m concerned about you. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, just come back ok?” He reached his hand out gently, as if he were taming a wild animal – the only result was you taking a step back. 
Defiantly you shook your head.  “Sweetie.”
You took another step back. He sighed, taking a step forward. You felt sick somehow, legs telling you to run again, run before he did something. Run before you’d be stuck just like in the woods. Fear you couldn’t explain. You knew you were being dramatic. It was Leon, there was no reason to be this on edge, even despite the weirdness of the evening, but your nerves told you differently.  “Are you going to take me home?” “No baby.” 
That was it, you bolted as fast as you could, feet skittering across the polished wooden floorboards. If you hadn’t used the bannister, you’d have face planted with the quickness you used to get down the stairs, missing the last few steps entirely. There was no immediate sound of movement behind you, at least none you could hear through your own pulse thrumming in your ears. You tore through the living room looking for a home phone, his cell, anything.  Finally his flat steps were heard coming down the stairs
Your search came up empty. You knew there was nothing in the kitchen. Nervously you slid into the library, slamming the double doors shut and clicking the little turn locks on the inside knobs, just in time for him to be on the other side, gently twisting the knobs.  “Baby, just come out here.” 
“No.” You said weakly, looking around the room. The laptop was no longer on the desk, but you did see his keys tossed on the corner of it. With a shaky hand, you reached out and picked them up, tucking the fob into your palm, the metal part sticking out between two fingers as a defensive weapon. He stopped attempting to twist the knobs and instead knocked gently. “Why don’t you take a minute to calm down?”  “No.” You repeated again, looking for a way out.  “You’re not acting rational.” He added.
There were no other connecting doors besides the ones leading out into the living room area, and you knew you couldn’t make it past Leon that way. The windows to the office were large, missing screens like with most old homes. It wouldn’t take much to slip through one – ‘but which of us would make it out to the jeep first?’ 
“Just leave me alone!” You yelled back at him, clicking the little latch on the window sill. You waited for the next crack of thunder to make the move. Despite the old wood, the window lifted easily, giving you a view to the patio.  “I can’t do that. You know that.” He replied, seemingly unaware of your plan.
You went out leg first, making sure the key was tight in your fist. Rain was beating down on the ground so hard the yard had practically been rendered all mud, running through it barefoot was going to be a challenge. ‘Just get to the jeep. Just get to the jeep’ You repeated in your head, stepping out into the disgustingly wet dirt, cringing when it mushed between your toes. 
Without a second thought, you took off running towards the front of the house, feet slapping into the wet surface of the ground, tshirt and hair soaked in the rain. You tripped over a rock, tumbling flatly splashing up grass and more mud into your face and torso. Not giving up, you righted yourself completely, half falling again as you ran to the car.  By this point Leon had already figured out your plan, the front door of the house slamming open. You looked back only long enough to see him walking towards you as you grabbed the door handle to pull yourself back up and over into the driver's seat. Trembling, you dropped the keys trying to get them into the ignition. “Shit. Shit.” You felt around on the floor, grabbing hold of them again, this time successfully managing to stick them in the ignition and turning the jeep on. 
“You’re being so dramatic right now.” He called out, halfway to you. “You’re acting terrified. Just come back inside.” You shook your head, pulling the gearshift out of the parked position and into reverse, careful to not let it slip in your shaking and wet state. Slamming the gas pedal didn’t go in your favor, instead of moving, the vehicle roared in place, tires spinning against the soft earth, mud flying about, some flinging backwards smacking into you.  “No…no…shit no..” You squeaked, slamming down on the pedal harder, turning the wheel. It still wouldn’t budge, mud and grass going everywhere in the rain. You tried putting it into drive, the whole vehicle lunged forward an inch before getting stuck again. “Come on. Come on.” You begged the universe. Too focused on the jeep, you had lost focus of Leon.  The door opened and he reached over you, pulling the keys out and tossing them into the passenger seat floor somewhere. You went to dive for them when he scooped you up instead, holding you tightly as you kicked and squirmed, clawing at him to get out of his grasp. He didn’t speak, but held firm as he made his way back inside with you, depositing you onto the floor of the entranceway. 
You stared up at him, trying to scoot back. There was a claw mark on his face from your nails, a little blood beading up there, a matching one on his shoulder. He knelt down to look at you, face full of concern. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, stopping your movement. “Good god baby, look at you. I mean really, look at you. This isn’t what a sane person would do.” His voice was so sickly sweet, it made you choke out a sob.  “Y-you scared me – I.” “I scared you? Baby I’m bleeding because of you. You tried to steal my car. You’re soaked, covered in mud….God baby, see this is exactly why I had to bring you out here. Could you imagine what would happen if you acted like this in front of other people?” “But I –” You looked into his eyes, then at the stripe of blood on his cheek. You looked around, then down at your mud covered body. You felt pathetic. He was right, this was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. “I’m sorry Leon.” You said, face scrunching up into an ugly cry. Like a toddler you sat in front of him sobbing, soaking wet. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 
“Shhh. Shhh.” He hushed you, one hand leaving your cheek. You felt the sting of something in your side, but were hazy before you could even register anything. 
You managed one more snotty sob before your vision was spotty, head becoming harder and harder to hold up – then the relaxing tug of unconsciousness overtook you.
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stilinskibaby · 3 months
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brother's best friend.
PAIRING : stiles stilinski x mccall!reader.
CONTENT : fluff ๑ angst ๑ smut
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it started out as a childhood crush, as most longterm infatuations do. you couldn't have been older than four when you met stiles, your stiles. he was missing his front tooth and he spoke with a lisp.
he was wildly loud and animated and you know when you're a kid and you think a boy is so cute that you're sure there's hearts in your eyes. he spoke of playing dragons and knights with scott, “oh! and you can be the princess.”
it was a memory that you kept crawling back to, a time much simpler than now. you could have let out a cold laugh, now you were in constant fear of your life, scott’s life, stiles’ life. it wasn't anything you couldn't handle but you wished for the times when all you had to worry about was your silly schoolgirl crush on stiles.
today was surprisingly quiet, just defeating peter and dealing with the deadpool, you were tired. all of you were, but you kept an eye open just on the off chance that something would try to kill one of your friends.
you stared at your reflection in the mirror, and dotted some concealer under your eyes, anything to make it look like you got some sleep last night. you didn't have scott’s powers to fall back on, nor lydia’s intelligence and intuition. everyday you wondered if you'd be another human lost in the fight against the preternatural.
you tried to wipe the thoughts from your head before walking down the main hall of the high school, stiles stood leaning against his locker while your brother talked about god knows what.
you walked up to the two of them and tried to act normal. like stiles isn't a whole foot away from you, like his cologne isn't enough to make your knees quiver, like every little wink, smile and joke doesn't make you wanna beg him to love you.
you'd been dealing with this crush for as long as you have memories, it should be easier by now. it seemed like lately though, it was getting harder. almost like he was purposefully invading all your thoughts.
“helllloooo?” you came back to the present because of stiles’ voice and scott's hand waving in front of your face. your skin warmed from the embarrassment of getting caught zoning out.
“what? sorry, I'm just tired,” you sighed, seemingly having said that alot recently. but dealing with what you can only assume to be a unrequited crush is tiring. especially when that crush happens to be on your brother's best friend.
stiles eyes squinted with disbelief. if there was one thing you hated about the boy, it was his ability to tell when anyone was lying.
“right, anyways,” scott continued eyeing you from the corner of his eyes but you were already zoning out again.
your day continued on like that, just skating by with your mind constantly drifting back to stiles. it felt almost like you were cursed, your brain almost short circuiting whenever you tried to think of literally anything else.
before you knew it, as if on airplane mode you found yourself walking out the doors towards the jeep. since scott started working at the clinic, you'd just been riding home with stiles. and due to the supernatural nature of your life, it's easier this way.
you climbed into the jeep and tried to keep a semblance of calm. stiles scent was invading your nostrils, with his lacrosse gear in the back seat and him sitting directly next to you. a soft song played on the radio, and if your emotions weren't getting the best of you ; you'd romanticize the man before you.
you were almost never quiet when left alone with stiles, it almost like you don't know how to shut up when around him. so the silence filling the jeep was becoming a bit much even for the hyperactive mind of stiles stilinski.
“you sure you're okay, sunshine?” his hand awkwardly patted your leg. stiles has been calling you sunshine forever, it's yours-and-his special little thing and even when you feel like the world is crushing you, it still gives you butterflies.
you had be around ten, you sat on the bus one seat in front of stiles and scott. stiles was talking mindlessly about lydia ( 12 year olds and their crushes ). and some kid was in the seat in front of you talking about how weird you were. being just a kid, you were almost to tears until stiles heard what the unkind words sprouted from the kid’s mouth.
“you don't even know what you're talking about! she's like sunshine.”
you found yourself blushing and feeling embarrassed, just for the kid to start making fun of you and stiles.
you let the silence hang a bit longer, trying to buy some time to tell a somewhat believable lie. the jeep came to a stop in front of stiles’ house. your eyebrows knit together trying to remember if there was some prior agreement that you forgot about.
“i think i know exactly what you need!” stiles spoke excitedly, and your heart felt like it was gonna fall out of your chest.
“a-and what's that?” you tried to convey a sarcastic tone but your voice shook as spoke. you prayed to whoever was listening that he didn't notice.
his eyes scanned your face as if trying to pry into your mind and it would give him all the answers. “movie night! i know we haven't done one in forever, but i think it'll help get your mind off whatever is bothering you. I know scott is usually here for this,” he sighed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.
your heart warmed, you couldn't believe the absolute kindness this boy had to offer. though every moment around him, was a kick to ego and a kiss for your heart.
“thank you, stiles,” his hand still awkwardly sat on your thigh, burning a metaphorical hole through your jeans.
he grinned that big smile, the one where his whole face turns into pure joy. it took everything in you not to just kiss him right there. and right as you began to get the courage he pops open his door and falls out the jeep. you chuckled to yourself bitterly.
you followed him into his room where you plopped yourself down on the bed. “so what's on tonight, star wars again?” you giggled as you watched him fumble through his dvds.
“actually, i rented heathers last night just for you, i know it's your favorite!” this boy was going to kill you.
and just like old times, he made popcorn and let you lay on his chest. you thought you might throw up. watching your favorite film, with the biggest crush of your life and it started to feel like you were suffocating.
you sat up anxiously, leaning against the wall, stiles’ head lazily rolled to the side, watching your every move.
“stiles,” your voice shook, your lips quivered and you were rubbing your hands intensely.
“hey! woah, hey, it's okay, whatever it is, it's okay, what's got you so upset? did you kill someone or something?” he tried to joke and relieve the tension and at this moment you think that might be an easier conversation.
“no, no, nothing like that,” the Perception of rejection was getting to you, an anvil falling on your heart. you laughed bitterly, “actually, now it feels so dumb. i just, stiles, i-i love you. i love you so much and i cant, i tried to swallow it and for a while that worked,” you were basically sobbing now eyes closed and lip shaking and you were about to lose your breath.
“but i can't, and I can't keep pretending i dont, but it's killing me and that feels dramatic but please, please don't hate me.” he knew this was very serious for you, a girl that almost never let anyone see her cry. amd he didn't mean to, and he feels so bad for it but he laughs, it just thr awkwardness that's in his bones.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, please I didn't mean to laugh, but i guess it just seems so silly to me that you wouldn't just tell me or someone and let it get so bad.” he pauses almost like he's trying to find his words. and all you can think about is running, running as fast as you can but his hand is on your leg and you'd feel so bad for it.
“i can't believe you could be so oblivious, I've been trying to hint to you for years now that i felt the same,” you didn't let him finish his sentence instead, doing what you've always wanted to do : kiss him. your lips mold together perfectly, you felt so far away, like you were in a dream.
the dream felt more hazy, when his hands find your hips and pull you into his lap. you can feel his cock hardened underth you, restrained by his jeans. you grind against and whimper into his mouth.
“stiles, stiles if you don't do something right now,” your words were breathless, somewhere between a whimper and a whine. his fingers move quickly to undo his jeans, while you shed yourself of everything but your bra and panties. you always wore cute panties in a secret way to manifest this happening.
as soon as he has you below, his hands are moving to grope your tits, he groans, eyes scanning every inch of your body, trying to commit every part of you to memory.
“fuck, you're so pretty, baby.” his words go straight to your core, warm, wet and clenching around nothing. you're thoughtless, the only thing left in your mind is him, so you just whine.
his fingers trace around your hips and slide your thong to the side to get a view of your beautiful cunt.
“you ready?” you nod, and he shakes his head, as if a new man. “say it,” as his hands slide over every part of your body except where you need him most.
“m ready, please stiles need you, need your cock. please, please” you were practically begging so pumped himself a few times before sheathing his full length into your cunt. it's so deliciously painful.
“mm such a good girl, taking me so well,” he pressed his lips against your forehead in a long kiss. before giving you long thick strokes, ans his hand reaching between you to rub little circles onto your clit. you were seeing white as continued to fuck you, your fingernails scraping against his pale skin.
his teeth gritted as he moaned, trying so hard to hold back. “m close, please please.” you whined and he fucked you faster, and harder. rough groans falling out of his lips.
your climax was closing in on your, your nails skating harder against him, your legs closing in around his hips. you basically screamed your orgasm out against stiles neck. he chuckled to himself, proud he could do all this. he funally let go, fucking you both through your climaxes. and keeping his now soft cock in your cunt, to keep his cum in you. thank god for birth control.
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devilmademewriteit · 1 year
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Dark Paradise
part 3 of Salvatore
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read part 1, Salvatore, here
read part 2, Playing Dangerous, here
pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader
summary: left alone in javi’s bed, you go looking for distractions. finding them only leads you further into his world: a world of danger and violence, where no one can protect anyone.
warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, super SUPER light choking) so 18+ only content; pet names (cariño, hermosa, querida, sweetheart, baby) afab fem reader; reader is American; mentions of hair pulling; allusions to SA; attempted SA against reader (not by javi); violence against reader (hitting, slapping, manhandling); smoking; dubcon (power imbalance, trauma sex??).
word count: 7k+
no use of y/n in this fic
u guys. it is here. and the most exciting part is I can already promise u a part 4!! pls be mindful that this part is darker than the rest. it has many triggering themes, so many sure u read the warnings & stay on the safe side of things.
as always, love u all so effing much. feedback, reblogs, comments & asks are always appreciated, & don’t forget to join the taglist in my pinned post !
-em<3
No one compares to you. I’m scared that you won’t be waiting on the other side.
- Dark Paradise
“Girl, where did you go?”
You’re on the landline with Carrie, one of the few half-friends you'd made living in Medellín, thighs sore and bruised from the backseat-loving you’d received the night before. While Javi’s at work, you’re on (his words) 'house arrest,' and lounging alone in his apartment feels eerily quiet. The occasional car drives by—you try not to listen for the sound of scraping tires.
So, around 9:30, you’d decided to fill the silent space with a bit of vapid conversation, realizing that last night's antics (and your unexplained disappearance) may have caused a bit of confusion.
You start by filling Carrie in on the generalities: the guns, the car, and the rescue, at first planning to leave out the more… personal details.
Like the one you'd filed away under 'Riding a Cop to High Heaven in the Backseat of his Jeep.'
You also leave out the part where, afterwards, you’d kicked off your heels by his front door, let down your hair in a sloppy, half-drunk movement, made a beeline to the familiar crinkles and folds of his unmade bed, and swiftly passed out in his embrace.
Oh, to fall asleep between those arms for the rest of eternity.
Given your more cynical—okay, borderline self-denying—approach to life, you felt downright ashamed of how much you’d enjoyed it. How much you’d enjoyed him and all of his lasting touches.
And in the morning… Javi’s hardness biting into your hip was a more efficient wake-up-call than the trial nuke sirens back home; the soft kisses laid down the length of your neck and the long, lazy fingers creeping down your abdomen had you surging to consciousness with embarrassing speed. You’d shivered into wakefulness, flattened against his chest.
“Good morning, cariño.” His words were molasses, melted caramel, thick and damp with sleep.  
“Hmmmh,” was your only reply, sloping into your highest octaves as his hand sank to push aside your already-ruined underwear, dipping lower to toy with the switch only he knew how to turn on best. Arching into his spine, last night’s dress crumpled up above your waist, leaving him to feel more, more, more of you.  
“Thought it would take more convincing,” he breathed against your shoulder, a breeze of late august air.
“Wh’time z’it?”  
“We have time, cariño, we have time.”
When his digits pulled a moan from your lips, no other answers really mattered. He’d loosed that deep, guttural rumble of approval that made your chest swell with pride, your legs part in service and need.  
“Can you hold this leg up for me, baby? S’all you need to do.” He’d helped fold up your knee, and you’d turned to meet him with pleading, drooping eyes, dutifully contorting to mold into the shape of his body. “Perfect, baby, good job,” a rough kiss to your temple, “n’I can do the rest, hermosa—I’ll do the rest.”  
He slid in effortlessly, harmonizing to your sigh of relief with a “shit, s’wet,” and sheathing his cock between the folds of your morning slick. Brows furrowing, mouth falling open, you had every detail of your bliss etched on your expression, all for the beautiful man looming over you. “Always fuckin’ askin’ for it, huh, sweetheart?” He'd mused. “Woke me up moanin’ in your sleep, cariño—dreamin’ about last night?”  
An “mhmm,” was all you could muster. Javi’s hips rolled against your ass, and the resulting feeling of overwhelming fullness had you swearing you were still in reverie. When he paused, snaked his arms under your neck and around your waist, and pulled you flush against his chest, you remember it feeling like a dirty, desperate hug.  
“M’sore, Javi,” you’d whined at the stretch of your opening, the continued drag of Javi’s fingers against your aching, weary clit.  
“S’no excuse, baby,” he’d grumbled into the shell of your ear, pressing hard into that tender bundle of nerves. “Gotta get you used to it.”
A harrumph as he’d turned up the intensity, punishing you for your protests. “Y-you’re a mean-mean man, Javier Peña.”
Soft, gravelly laughter danced, twirled, traveled along the dip of your neck. “‘N you’re gonna come so hard for this mean, mean man.”  
He was right, bringing you to the brink of orgasm with the thick, rough pads of his fingertips, the tip of his cock sliding up and down, over and over, in and out of your guts.  
“Yeah—yes—m’gonna come for you, Javi,” you’d admitted.  
But he’d stolen his magical digits away, used them to turn your jaw, to square your face off with his own concentrated, lust-filled expression. “Show me cariño, yes—gonna be picturin’ that pretty lil’ face aaaaall fuckin’ day,” and you’d tumbled over the edge the moment he’d slid back down to the apex of your thighs, drowning in the darkness of his cinnamon-brown irises and the tantalizing circles—drawn from memory—against your clit.  
“J-javi—it feels—feels s-so good—”  
“I know, hermosa, s’just what you needed, fuck—”
He was already close enough, but your climaxing trembles and your whining, choked gasps had him wrapping his hand around your throat, pushing you further and further down the length of his tensing shaft.  
“Shit—you feel like heaven, baby, so good for me—”  
His release came fast and hard, leaking his hot spend into you, painting your insides like brushstrokes on canvas with his final thrust.  
He seemed to lay there for forever, softening between your walls as sweet slumber carried you off once more. “Go back to sleep, baby,” he’d advised against your shoulder (as if you’d needed any kind of encouragement), “Did such a good job; go back to sleep.”  
It was easy to accede to his command.  
You’d come to for a half-second as he’d placed, fully dressed, the clink of his belt and the crisp waft of his cologne rousing you to near-consciousness, a deliberate, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Don’t answer the door for anyone else, okay, hermosa?”
“Huh? Oh—mhm.”
And you’d vaguely registered a low laugh. “Good to know you’re so well behaved when you’re half-asleep.” His finger traced your cheekbone, dragged down to pull teasingly at your bottom lip. “Means I’ll have to keep fuckin’ you to the point of exhaustion.”
“Mhm—please." Squished and mumbled, guttural and breathless.  
Another soft laugh, and then echoes of receding footsteps.  
Waking up a few hours later, you’d peeled your sticky thighs apart, confused at first by the mysterious pool of wetness between your legs.
You didn’t bother cleaning it up, already feeling the loss of your DEA officer. You somehow chose to dial Carrie's number to kill some time on your day off (or else, you feared, you’d have quickly found another use for your bored fingers).
Being alone in his room leaves you feeling very young. Lying in his bed, thinking about the past night’s events… you feel giddy, like a highschool girl after her first time, and anxious, on edge without Javier’s protection.
You just want to gush about it.
“Do you remember that DEA agent? The Texan?”
You barely have time to finish your thought before Carrie’s cutting your question short.
“Sexy Javi?”
She giggles. You snort indelicately into the receiver.
“I never called him that.”
“You didn’t have to,” she returns. “I deduced it from the amount of times you ranted to me about his… callers.”
You fiddle with the telephone chord, smiling artfully to yourself. “I’m in his bed right now.”
There’s a slap. No doubt the sound of a hand clapping over a set of slack lips. And then—
“I thought he lived outside the city?!”
It’s a strange reaction. You’d expected something a bit more on-topic, confused at your friend’s preoccupation with Peña’s living quarters when you’d just divulged such an out-of-character, personal detail.
Well, at least the enthusiasm is there.
“No, he lives right by the embassy.” You respond, rolling lazily onto your side. Opening the top drawer of his bedside table, you grimace to yourself, taking in (on top of the empty bottle of men’s cologne and an old, broken watch) a box of tissue paper, a pair of handcuffs (not regulation), a smatter of sex toys, and a few scattered, unopened condoms. “That new… fancy building on the corner,” you continue, swiping a few tissues between your legs, trying not to giggle at the teasing Javi was in for tonight, “Carrie—are you seriously not gonna ask how it was?”
There’s a pause. You hear a rustle in the background; the sound reminds you of students in class, whipping out pens and notebooks.
Is she taking notes?
“Tell. Me. Everything.”
That reaction felt more appropriate.
It all comes bursting out of you—the night out, Javi’s rescue, your backseat escapade. Carrie’s an ideal audience, gasping and ‘oooh’-ing and ‘girl!’-ing at all the right moments.
When you get to the end of your tale, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Carrie pries for more and more specifics, keeping you on the phone for close to an hour. You don't give her everything (did she really need an approximation of his size?) but you do make sure to remind her, often, that Javier Peña was an excellent fuck.
Finally, the conversation dies down. Sitting up, you realize just how desperately you’re in need of a shower. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, the smell of sex, tequila, and Javi’s day-old cologne clinging to your skin, but his place gets hot, and you hadn't anticipated the need to pack deodorant in your purse during last night's going-out prep.
Either way, Carrie's become distracted, the length between your words and her responses growing with every passing minute. You notice a Spanish conversation taking place in the background, no doubt the reason for her decreasing attentiveness.
You’re about to hang up, launching into a polite, “alright girl, I’ll let you go” when she goes back in for more.
“Is he home now?”
She blurts it out, and you're a bit taken aback. Frankly, the urgency of her tone feels a little jarring.
“Um, no,” you answer, uncertain, stretching out your vowels, “I think he went in early today.”
“Good.”
Her clipped tone continues to confuse you. It’s… not playful anymore. It’s administrative.
Commercial.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh,” a flutter of shrill laughter, “Just wanted to make sure he’s not listening in on our—”
There’s a knock at the door before she can finish. You call out just a sec! automatically, pulling on your rumpled clothes from the night before as the receiver tumbles onto the unmade bed.
It’s only once you’ve lumbered over, wiped the grogginess from your eyes, once you’ve unlocked the door and twisted the handle—it’s only once your head is covered with a thick, scratchy fabric, once the world’s gone dark and a cry of surprise is wrenched from your throat—that you recall Javi’s warning:
Don’t open the door for anyone else.  
Something else takes over. Something primal. Fight, fight, fight. Find the flesh and punish it, scramble for purchase into any detectable, softer areas. Squirm until your legs give out, 'till your knees hit the floor and the beginnings of bruises scatter across your burning skin in a plethora of vulnerable places.
But when you thrash around like that, make sure your head doesn’t hit the doorframe.
Because then? It’s lights out.
The first thing you notice is the smell.  
Weed and tobacco. Wet weed and tobacco. It’s not a smell you’re accustomed to (you worked for the DEA, for crying out loud). It makes your already-pounding head spin, so it takes a second before you remember that you’re not safe—you’re not at home, you’re not at Javi’s, and you’re not with Javi.
Instincts kick in. Your stomach aches with fear, lighting you up from the inside, energizing every inch of your body. You wrench, pull, struggle against the restraints suffocating your wrists, binding your hands around the back of a rickety, wooden chair. You can’t kick at anything, either. Your ankles are crossed, squished on top of each other and secured by a firm length of (what you assume to be) rope.
And then the canvas is unceremoniously yanked off of your head, taking a few hairs from your scalp along with it.
You squint, blinking into the dim light, slowly adjusting to your surroundings: some sort of musty basement with concrete walls and floors, decorated by nothing except a couple of small, rectangular windows near the too-high ceilings. It’s completely empty—save for your company.
One, two, three strangers. All men. All Cartel, by the looks of them.
And all positively leering.  
The one nearest you, holding the bag in his hands, speaks down to you. It’s quick and harsh, mocking and cruel. Spanish and unintelligible.
Your hatred towards the captor blinds you; it coaxes the animal out of its cage. You spit: “I don’t speak Spanish, motherfucker.”
(Even if you did, the adrenaline coursing through your veins wouldn’t allow you much room for comprehension).
From the shadows, another man appears. He lumbers over to you, and you notice the peculiarity of his European-looking hat as he squats down to level with you.
He clicks his tongue, dousing you with a look of disapproval. “That’s not very nice, hermosa.”
You shiver. Javi had called you that before, many times. And even though it sounded totally different coming from this foul man’s mouth, shrouded under the veil of a thick, Spanish accent, it sticks.
You hold your tongue, biting it to keep from sobbing. The glint in his eye, visible behind his glasses, moves from playfulness to exasperated ire.
He sighs, stands, and grabs your hair, tilting your head back harshly to look down at you. “You’re very hard to catch, you know that?” He muses, darkness trickling across his features. “But you’re alone now, Americana. No DEA—no Javier Peña to protect you.”
He makes a mockery of his name, oozing cockiness as it comes spitting out of his smirk. You glare up at him, simmering anger and bubbling fear claiming you. Would they go after Javi?
No. They wouldn’t dare.
Only an American like yourself—low-value, replaceable, unnoticeable—was expendable.
“What do you want from me?”
He smiles, releasing your head and taking a step back.
“You’re the assistant, aren’t you?” And that deceptively sweet tone is back, frightening you more than his rage. “We need directions, hermosa. You’ve been in all the government buildings—we know, we watched you. Why don’t you give us some assistance,” he pauses, leaning down towards you, “And tell us where your evidence against Pablo Escobar is filed.”
You snort, unimpressed, shocked, and a little humoured by his little monologue. This was what they were after?
This was why you'd been fearing for your life?
A fucking… map?
“Find someone else. I don’t know shit.”
It’s honestly true. The bastards could not be barking up a more wrong tree. For all their criminal genius, they hadn’t managed to catch the fact that you really, truly didn’t give a flying fuck about the particulars of your job.
But if this was about Escobar—the Pablo Escobar—then these were men from the Medellín cartel. The same Medellín cartel that left scores of expendable bodies in its wake, that bombed, assassinated, and tortured government workers like they were no more than rats in a science lab.
You weren’t the end-all, be-all of this operation.
No, you were just another lead.
A lead that (only you knew) led to jack-all. Unless they were scrambling to learn about the best places to go out dancing or the worst brands of moisturizer, you had very little to offer the thugs.
The one with the strange hat—the ringleader, you decide—shares a smile with his co-conspirators, and you begin to regret the arrogance of your statement.
“There are many ways we can do this,” he warns, voice sloping down to a dangerous hum. “It can be easy…” and he lowers a hand to his belt buckle, setting every cell in your body on fire, “Or hard.”
It‘s a plea to God more than a question for your captor, your desperate, self-pitying: “Why me?” It can't be above a whisper, but the asshole responds anyway.
“It’s more enjoyable when we get to work with something pretty.” A dark laugh. “Who’s going to come looking for you, hermosa? Your family? Your friends? Your… government?” He clicks his tongue again, looking down at you in mock concern. “Like I said, we’ve been watching. You have a habit of disappearing. Running away.”
Figures.
Figures that the reason you’d wound up with your life on the line, your body in danger, was because of you. Once again, it boiled down to the lack of attachments you’d curated over the years, passing from one thing to another, quick on your feet the second they hit solid ground. For God’s sake, the only reason you’d made it this long in Medellín was because it hadn’t managed to bore you yet.
Figures that the closest thing to stability you’d been able to find was in the crime capital of the world. It was poetically honest, laughably ironic.
Of course, the American government would assume you’d fucked off—just another ditzy contractor swept up in the thrill of a south-American life.
The other part held water, too—no one would come looking for you. Your boss might huff about ‘these flighty secretaries, can’t hold ‘em down for anything,’ but beyond that, your disappearance would cause less than a stir.  
Somehow, that thought comforted you. The lack of collateral, the lack of another’s suffering… very little harm would befall the world in the wake of your absence. Peace was beginning to crest upon your settling soul. And, either way, you’d worked in this line of work for long enough to know that your death warrant had been signed the very second they’d seen you as a target.
You give the bastards what they want? You die.
You hold off? You die.
All things considered, you resign yourself, making up your mind.
Still, your defiant voice quivers as you say it.
“Fuck you.”
The ringleader smiles, like a predator cornering its prey, taking that first bite into hard-earned flesh. Your brain responds, screaming warnings in big letters, in flashing red ink. He barks an order to his underlings in Spanish, and the other two men come forward, roughly undoing the holds along your ankles, your wrists.
“Get the fuck off of me!”  
But they don’t listen, yanking you upright and shoving you onto the ground. Your vision becomes hazy. Something takes over, a protective instinct, perhaps, barring you from your own body. Distantly, you observe yourself fighting, but really all you feel is beyond. The words ‘I am not here, this is not happening’ wash over you over and over again, like a cleansing, salt-water wave.
Hands on cement. Clothes torn, destroyed—the cold barrel of a gun to your head, a man barking orders, hitting, slapping—and right as the worst is about to happen, everything just…
Stops.
It’s like they’re spellbound, bugs frozen in amber.
You hear the cause of it well after your torturers do. Footsteps upstairs, and gunshots, screams followed by the definite sounds of a creeping squadron.
The men get messy. Scrambling around, they gather their options. In your dazed periphery, you watch their eyes latch onto one of those open windows, 8 or 9 feet up from the ground.
A hushed conversation ensues. You're familiar enough with the more violent side of the Spanish vocabulary to string together their meaning.
“Shoot her? — no, the noise, they’ll find us faster — kill her? — too long — take her? — too messy — we have to go, we have to go, we have to go.”
Your ruined shirt is shoved down your throat, and then you’re gagging on it, ankles bound once more, shaking and naked on the freezing concrete. The trio uses the little wooden chair to frantically sneak out of the window.
It would be downright comical if you weren’t so terrified.
Soon, you’re alone, choking on cotton and wriggling to flatten your back against the wall. Centuries pass before the movement upstairs graduates to the basement below.
Relief doesn’t grace you. Any man—DEA, cartel, or Colombian police—would likely perform the same violence as your previous captors had planned to. A naked girl, roughed up and completely unprotected, in a dark, hidden basement, totally at their mercy… Shit. You were basically an invitation. A free meal, offered up to a different, hungry crowd.
You just pray that this one might be gentler.
The stairs creak under the certain weight of bodies in motion.
Tears run down the side of your face, dripping down from your temple onto the ground below. You compress into a ball, making yourself as small as possible.
The echoes grow louder, closer and closer. At this point, you just hope they’ll assume you’re an enemy or get trigger-happy and give you a quick taste of lead. Put you out of your misery.
Giving up was well within your comfort zone.
Someone gasps when they see you, and a single name hurtles through the space.
An out-of-commission part of your mind recognizes it—the name—knows it as a comfort. Still, you only tremble, trying to disconnect yourself from what must be a wishful, crafted, deceitful version of reality.
Then someone else comes forward. Your eyes, weary of keeping you in the dark, fling open just in time to watch a tall, dark-haired man push through the crowd of soldiers. You watch his expression—shock to rage, rage to relief, and then rage all over again.
He rushes you, falling to his knees before your wrecked form.
His first move is to wrench the fabric from your mouth. You croak out the most desperate sob of relief, all those stifled, unvoiced expressions of terror tumbling out in great-big-heaves.
“Are you hurt?” He asks.
“No.” You respond.
“Did they…?”
“No.”
Javi tears his big doe-eyes, filled with worry, away from yours, twisting to impatiently address the frozen crowd of four or five behind him. “Can somebody take these fuckin’ ties off?”
Switchblades slice through twine. Someone brings you a blanket, and Javi bundles you up in it, gathering you and lifting you in his arms. You don’t resist, clinging around his neck and hiding in the comfort of his shoulder.
“Hermosa—”
You regret the way you flinch. “Please—please don’t call me that anymore.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t ask questions, sounding a little softer, a little more unsure when he presses on, muffling the desperate edge to his tone. “Did you see where they went?”
“The window. Out the window.”
Most of the rest take to that almost immediately, scattering to start on their chase. Javi delivers a set of orders in his native tongue.
Then, he grows silent, carrying you through the house with two soldiers in the lead. “Close your eyes, okay? You don’t wanna see this.” But now that they’re open, you can’t seem to shut them. You only glimpse flashes of the upstairs area. Tables covered in paper, glass contraptions and coke, so much coke, which is almost more impressive than the quantity of blood splattered against the peeling walls.
And Carrie.
Carrie with half her brains hanging out, long, dark, red-soaked hair fanning around her crown like a rotten halo, lounging on the couch, fingers splayed and palms to the sky as if she were ready to wrap them around a glass of white wine—as if she were ready to catch up on girl-talk.
What’s Carrie doing here?
Should I ask her?
She’s dead.  
No, she’s not. She’s right there. She was waiting for me to be done so we could catch up. That’s just how she always sits—it’s just the scoliosis.
That’s why she always showed up so late to the club. She… she couldn’t dance too long because of the scoliosis.
You’re still debating whether or not Carrie would be up for a bit of gossip, another debrief, when big, strong arms lower you into the passenger seat of a Jeep Cherokee.
Javier buckles you in.
“We can’t go to your place—that’s…” and you trail off weakly, throat burning with effort. “That’s where they took me.”
He nods, his face a complete mask of concentration.
But you know him.
He’s holding everything back. You appreciate him for that, never wanting to hear a man shout for the rest of your cursed time on Earth.
“Steve’s, then.”
It’s your turn to nod.
Javier drives in complete and total silence, only speaking the occasional clipped sentence into his radio. Despite your vulnerability, despite your overwhelming gratitude, you feel guilty for taking him away from his work, from his team. For forcing him to rescue you once again.
For sure, he’s angry. Would he have to move? Find a new place? Leave all his stuff at the old one? Would a better captive have paid better attention, taken note of the exact direction her kidnappers had taken off in after clearing the window?
Soon, you’re settled against a couch, the light from the opposing window breaking in and dancing across Javi’s face. A blonde woman—fiery, familiar, concerned—hands you a glass of water.
Javi watches you, eyebrows notched together, lips drawn into a thin line as you take a slow sip in silence. The liquid slides down your throat, cooling and soothing the rips and tears there.
And they both won’t stop staring. Truly, their joint study makes you self-conscious, watching on with unapologetic intent as you shiver under the scratchy blanket.
Finally (thankfully), Steve's wife—Connie, you recall—speaks.
“You can go, Javi. I'll take it from here.”
“No.”
She looks borderline offended at his line in the sand.
“I don’t think she’s in any shape to talk, Peña.” It’s authoritative, protective, clearly marked with harboured resentment.
She'd make a good mom.
He scoffs. “I’m not gonna make her talk, Connie. Just don’t wanna leave her like... this.”
Connie looks confused. They share a glance, and an eventual understanding passes over her expression. In fact, even in your distressed state, you’re almost certain you catch a hint of a smile.
“Well if you’re both staying, we’ll need food.”
Javi nods absentmindedly, lighting up a smoke. You look away, still feeling the weight of his eyes boring into your ducked head.
She clears her throat. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Remember to lock the door, Javi.”
Then, swinging her coat on, she traces an awkward line out of the apartment.
Silence flits across the room. The agent continues to study you from his seat at the counter across the room.
“Are you okay?”
You pick at your nails, internally asking yourself the same question.
“I’m just glad you were there,” you muster up, looking up at his softened, warm gaze. Concern etches a couple of fresh lines on his face.
Javi nods, taking a long drag. “Always, sweetheart. I’m glad I was there, too.”
You shiver at the thought of what could have happened if he and his team had showed up just a few minutes later. What shape he would have found you in, or if you’d ever permit yourself to feel the touch of a man again. Of anyone again.
“Why were you there?”
The question comes out of nowhere, bursting out the moment you realize that you hadn’t yet bothered to ask him how he’d pulled off yet another well-timed rescue.
It couldn’t have been in answer to your prayers—those had never worked for you before.
“Carillo’s been following Escobar’s cousin for a while. Zeroed in on the neighbourhood, but we spent all morning doing searches. Honestly,” he breaks off for a moment, rubbing at his temples, “It was just damn luck that we found you when we did. Wish I could say it wasn't, but it was. We were gettin’ ready to call it off. I had… no idea you weren’t at home.”
He blames himself for it. You can tell. In turn, you blame yourself for that—for his misguided, self-inflicted anger.
There’s more left unsaid.
“My friend—I called her this morning. From your place. She was there. She was… dead. I think.”
Javi doesn’t react, evidence of the years of gore, wreckage, and betrayal he'd witnessed.
You swallow, soldiering on.
“I told her. I told her where I was. Could she… could she have told them?”
Is she the reason this happened to me?
Slowly, lips pressed around his cigarette, Javi nods. “I’m sorry,” he barely mumbles.
Strangely enough, you’re not. That’s what you say: “I’m not.” And it’s true. “She was upstairs when it was all happening. I’m glad she’s dead.”
Now, he looks at you with a consideration that swells into a kind of respect. Not a respect, no not respect. A knowing. A new kind of understanding, of equal footing.
You meet him head-on with it, basking in your retribution, revelling in the immediate justice she'd been served. You’d mourn the person you thought she was when your wounds weren’t so open, so fresh.
"They wanted directions, Javi," you suddenly blurt out, voice hoarse, "Isn't that insane? They were gonna... they were gonna do that for directions. Not even the evidence, just fucking directions-"
Javi lifts his hands in the air, signalling for you to slow down. Normally, it would make you want to tear his arrogant head off. Now, however, you just do, although the silence isn't very comforting. After a moment, you can tell there's something Javi’s been avoiding, something he’s holding in. The agent clears his throat, finally calling it quits on his tiptoe-ing around the subject.
“Cariño," he begins, "I know you told me earlier, but I... I gotta be sure. Did they hurt you in… any way?”
God, he sounds so deeply wary, unable even to speak his fear into existence. You shake your head no, prompting his shoulders to relax.
“Okay. Good,” he breathes, crossing his arms and looking down at the rug. “Don’t think I could…”
Panic ripples through your frame.
'Doesn’t think he could' what? Bear to look at me, knowing the enemy had been where he’d been, done what he’d done? Touch me in the same grooves they'd left on my skin? Javi’s not that kind of man—is he?
“Don’t think I could forgive myself if anything were to happen to you under my watch.”
The rush of anxiety quickly dissipates, replaced by a stifling bloom of admiration and adoration across your chest. Like soft tendrils, warming your shivering body from within.
You smile self-consciously, scoff, and meet his eyes. “I wasn’t ‘under your watch,’ Javi. I opened the door. It was my fault.”
He raises his eyebrows, huffing a breath before ashing his dart, rising, carving a path towards the couch-cushion next to you and taking your glass of water from between your hands. It clinks as he sets it on the table. Taking your unsteady hands between his hardened palms, he coaxes you into meeting his golden eyes.
“It’s not your fault, herm—” a pause as he corrects himself, noticing your flinch, “—cariño. It’s not your fault.”
He waits for your nod of acknowledgement before pulling you into his arms. You let yourself go limp, dragged into the plushness of the couch and the firmness of his chest.
He lays a kiss to your forehead. He fidgets with your hair. He traces long, lazy lines up and down your spine.
How had you gone from that youthful giddiness this morning to this dark, anxious wreck in a matter of hours? It wasn’t even two o’clock yet.
The comfort your agent provides is good—will always be good—but you want more. Every inch of attention he gives you is just another step away from that cold basement, a foot towards freedom.
Time heals all wounds, and you want a distraction while you face those excruciating seconds. Something to move it along. Something to keep you busy, to keep the harrowing images at bay.
So you tilt your head up. Finding his lips, you press into him, shuddering when the rough hairs of his mustache tickle your top lip. When your body asks for more, when your tongue meets his and your hand drops to his thigh, Javi tenses, pulling back and breaking off the kiss.
“Sweetheart—you’re not in a good place,” he whispers, lovingly running his fingers through your hair.
You look up at him with eyes full of need, wordlessly begging him to give in. “I am now,” you assure him, tossing a leg over his hips and straddling his body. His expression darkens as you slowly chip away at his resolve, one touch at a time. “I’m with you.”
He smiles, plucking your hands from his chest. Every kiss he lays to your knuckles sends a ripple of electricity up and down your spine. “That right?” He muses between embraces. “That all you need?”
You nod, the pace of your shallow breaths picking up in anticipation. “When you touch me, Javi, it’s like you’re cleaning them off me,” you croon, leaning forward to brush your lips against his jaw.
“You’re in shock, baby,” but his hands defy his words, slipping down to circle your waist, “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Slowly, deliberately, you lean back to stare directly into his heavy-lidded eyes. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
You feel him tense at that, his body hardening alongside the weight building underneath your thigh. He lets you go on, deft hands pooling onto your hips.
“Get rid of them for me,” you plead, grinding down onto his bulge.
“Make me all yours again.”  
That does it.
His hands shoot up to your face, firmly cupping your cheeks between their heat. Then, Javi’s kissing you harder than before, warming your desire up to a feverish level. You moan into him, turning to putty in his grasp.
He peppers kisses down your jaw and up your neck, allowing you to clumsily untuck his shirt and undo his belt. It’s frantic and needy—it’s pure business. You free his length from the confines of his clothes, heavy breaths mingling when you look down in tandem, hungrily watching your small, delicate hand pumping up and down his cock.
“Fuck,” he groans, his dark crown of cropped curls falling back against the couch, “You make it fuckin’ hard to be a good guy.”
You smile, spreading the slick dribbling at his tip around the head of his cock.
God, the sight of him never gets old.
“Good guys listen, Javi,” you tease, managing to pull off an air of sultriness, “Not just to no—also to yes.”
A lazy, roguish grin spreads across his face. “You are feeling better, aren’t you?” and he knocks a squeal out of you when he cages you in his arms, flipping you over ‘till your back’s digging shapes into the worn-in cushions below. “Gettin’ mouthy already.”
You giggle up at him, but all of your noises dwindle when a few rough fingers push your torn, ruined underwear to the side. You grow especially wordless when one separates your folds and makes its way inside you.
Javi gives you his signature look of condescension, of mock pity.
“What happened, sweetheart?” He taunts, thumbing that aching bundle of nerves. “All the ways I’ve had my dick in you, just this—” he makes a point to curl his fingers towards himself, pressing against the most desire-stricken spot, “—‘n you can’t find your words?”
Your throat won’t open, choking around your own pleasure. Instead, you nod with enthusiasm, desperately clinging onto his forearm. “More.”
He quickly accedes, pushing another long and thick finger inside you. You shudder at the perfect sting—the stretch—as your opening hugs his knuckles. Javi mutters curses to himself, angry and lustful, supervising your writhing form.
“No one else gets to see you like this.” He speaks low, sitting up to work you with both hands. Your body responds without your permission; Javi clicks his tongue and shoves you back down when your hips buck up. “Don’t deserve it,” he continues voicing his thought as if no interruption had occurred, “I’d have to track ‘em down and kill ‘em.”
His tone goes beyond protectiveness, easily veering into the realm of the possessive. “I-I wouldn’t be good f-for them, Javi,” you manage, wanting to comfort him, to calm him, “Wouldn’t—wouldn’t listen.”
“Oh,” he smirks down at you, finally pulling his fingers from your soaked, ready cunt. “Like you listen to me?”
You spread your legs for him, shimmying down until he’s hovering right above you. He strokes himself, taking you in with hunger, playfulness and… something else.
Something like devotion.
A smile. You stroke his jaw. “You come harder when I misbehave.”
He shrugs and nods, a silent, ‘you got me there,' before lining himself up at your entrance.
You whimper, a pathetic, pleading sound, when the head of his cock finds your opening. “Then make sure to misbehave.”  
He rocks inside you, taking note of the way your jaw goes slack, hanging open, and the way your brow furrows, grateful eyes glazing over, showing high praise for that feeling of fullness.  
And he laughs to himself.
“Needy fuckin’ thing,” he coos, settling into a comfortable rhythm. “Beggin’ for cock after bein’ kidnapped. I shouldn’t be feedin' into your crazy, cariño.”
It is crazy. But you don’t care, giggling along to his taunt.
“Just makes me feel so-so good, Javi,” you breathe.
“Yeah?” He coaxes, sitting back to tower over you, pressing your thighs to your calves; the new angle has bliss rippling through your centre, your back arching involuntarily. “What feels good?”
He shoves your hips down, lowering a finger back to your clit.
“Oh—God—y-yourcock—” he nods approvingly at you, beckoning you to go on, “your—your fingers, too.”
He slows his pace, pulling out fully before slamming back inside you.
“Look at it, cariño,” Javi instructs, steadying your hips once more. “Watch me fuck your pretty lil’ pussy.”
You struggle onto your elbows and obey, mouth slack and perpetually open. Pressure builds at your core as you watch every inch of his hard, dark length disappear, over and over, inside the shelter of your body. It’s so dirty, and somehow the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
“M-made for you, Javi.”
And he moans, an animalistic sound you’d never heard from him before.
“S’right, baby, made just for me.” He flattens his fingers against your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. “Can you come for me now?”
You nod, grateful for his permission as soon as you start to feel your thighs shake. The tension snaps within you, and you tumble over the edge of your climax with a high pitched whine.
“Good girl,” he praises, low, deep, and bristling with pleasure, “Good fuckin’ girl.”
You ride it out. Javi shows no mercy, squeezing your waist and bouncing your lower half against him. His biceps and shoulders strain against his shirt, the sight making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
After having him a few times, you were well aware of his impressive stamina—Javi wasn’t going to finish without giving you another one. Nonetheless, the overwhelming pleasure has you squirming away from his unrelenting grasp.
He pulls you back against him, steadying you between two forceful hands.
And he fucks you harder.  
“Still remember them, querida? ” He breathes.
You find your voice, using great effort to stammer out a “y-yes."
It's not the correct answer.
Javi growls, “Then I’m not fuckin’ done with you.”
His shirt grazes the insides of your thighs, and you're certain that every part of his form is working to set your skin on fire. A skilled hand wraps around your jaw, and Javi leans over you, lowering his lips to latch around a hard, peaked nipple.
Your whimpers do nothing to stop him. He just keeps rhythmically rocking into you, the head of his cock reaching impossible, beckoning depths.
An almost-sob wracks your lungs. “S’a lot, huh? Takin’ all this cock inside you…” Javi shushes you with feigned sympathy, nipping and suckling at the softest spots at his disposal. “S’okay, baby, s’okay.”
Then he makes his way to your lips, forces you to kiss him—deeply—as your lungs scream for oxygen. He locks your hands above your head in just one of his own, the pressure of his weight the only thing keeping your squirming limbs in place.
And then his mouth is sliding down your jaw, his breaths hot and heavy next to your ear.
“Fuck—can feel you gettin’ close, sweetheart, gonna come again?”
All you can do is nod.
He rolls into you—hard and deep—forcing tears to pull from the outer corners of your eyes.
“S-so good to me,” you manage, seeing pure white as your third orgasm of the day blooms from between your seizing legs.
He groans, freeing your hands (which immediately find stability in the firmness of his shoulders) to clumsily wipe the tears from under one dazed eye. Above you, he resembles a hungry, lustful angel, eyes darkened with unbridled need, affection, approval.  
“‘M’good to what’s mine, baby,” he whispers, pulling you into the crook of his neck as he chases both your highs. “Come, cariño—s’right, come for me.”
And you do, aching, ruined cunt squeezing and releasing, fluttering around Javi. He moans a downright sinful ‘fuck’ at the sensation, reaching his own peak almost in tandem with yours.
Only once his every last drop is spent, once his groan and your whines have stopped echoing around the unfamiliar, open space, does he pull back from your neck.
And when he looks at you… God. There’s something you’re both not saying.
“Only wanna see you cry like this, baby,” he tells you, laying a long, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Never gonna let them—let anyone—lay a finger on you again.”
Your breath hitches, the words thick and sticky in your throat. The both of you are dazed, breathless, and completely wrecked. “I’m… I’m glad we met. That you—that we’re doing this.”
He raises his eyebrows, crooning a soft ‘yeah?’ as he pushes your hair from your face.
You nod. “You make all of it worth it.”
He’s appreciative when leaning in for a kiss, slipping out of you and groaning against your lips. You tangle your fingers in his damp hair, leaning up into him with every aching muscle in your body, wanting nothing more than to become a part of his whole. When he pulls away, it's only to tuck his softening length back into his briefs. He focusses on you again, leaning over to affectionately stroke your knee.
“Is it just sex for you?”
His question comes as a bit of a surprise—you’d never heard him speak so openly, so innocent and vulnerable.
You cup his face. Despite the fact that he looks like the men from earlier, carries the same guns and ammo, knows what they know, even speaks their language, he’s never seemed so separate from them, an entirely different species.
“No—at first, maybe, but now… No. Not for me.”
He eases into a soft smile, wrapping you back into your blanket before laying back, manhandling you to rest against his still-unsteady chest.
Those masterful hands comfort you in a million different ways. He plays with your hair and traces the highest points of your cheekbone. He massages your knuckles, pulls you in for little kisses, dips into the curve of your waist.
“How about you?” The question is small, even though you anticipate the answer.
He takes a second before answering. When he does, his voice is low, quiet.
“Not at all, sweetheart.” He tilts your head up, his soft, caring gaze probing into every corner of your own. “Honestly, I think it’s been more than that since the first time you said ‘go fuck yourself, Peña.’” He whistles under his breath, exaggerating his approval. “Shit was hot.”
It makes you laugh, but it's also enough to make your heart soar. Settling in to the nook of his neck, you breathe in his familiar, earthly scent, until the exhaustion of the day eventually weighs on you.
You fall asleep with a smile on your face, entertained by the fact that while you really should be a wreck, you feel perfectly at ease, wrapped in the arms of your favourite DEA agent. In fact, you can hardly remember what your kidnappers looked like—or sounded like, for that matter—succumbing to slumber, you only think of him.
Less than three hectic, hazy days later, you’re pulling a suitcase through the Medellín international airport. There was no sense risking it anymore—you'd have to be transferred to the States until the assholes were caught. Ambassador's orders.
Javi flanks your side, eyes peeled for any abnormalities in your surroundings.
Your heart breaks with every step you take. He comes all the way to the gate without saying a word, merely holding onto one of your bags (that he'd insisted he carry) in a white-knuckled fist.
You’re running behind. There’s not much time.
He doesn’t say he’ll call—knows he’s not that kind of man. You don’t say you’ll visit. You don’t say you’ll write.
No, all you do is lean up on your tippy toes to plant a tender, lingering kiss to his cheek. He returns the favour by cupping your face, leaning down and kissing you intently.
Too intently—as if he were memorizing the grooves in your lips.
Well, that’s what you’re doing, anyways.
Over the loudspeaker, your name is called.
“They’re paging you,” Javi translates, his breath hitting your top lip.
You pull away, doing your best not to cry.
“Thank you.”
It’s all you say—it’s all that needs to be said, really.
Thank you for showing me I matter. Thank you for teaching me patience. Thank you for saving my life three times. Thank you for wanting me. Thank you for making me wait for it. Thank you for giving me a reason to miss this place.  
Thank you for loving me. I think that's what this is.
He hears it all, stuffed and contained, overflowing from the two uttered words.
Then he smiles, that well-trained, protective cockiness spreading across his face.
“You’re welcome, cariño.”
You scoff a laugh, slowly dropping his hand and turning towards your gate.
“If I ever visit home…” he calls after you.
You pause, smiling down at the glistening floor, shaking your head. “You’ll never catch me in Texas, Peña,” you call across the traffic of rushing families and over-packed suitcases. He smiles knowingly, hands in his pockets, watching you leave. “Just lock the fuckers up so I can visit. The weather sucks back home.”
You slowly walk backwards towards the exit, ignoring a few flight-attendant-glares, not daring to break off the playful eye contact linking you to your agent.
“I’ll do it just for you, baby,” he calls, grinning like a fool.
Strange. You’d never noticed how the teasing, that snarky back and forth you’d developed together seemed to put him at ease—to relax him. All that time he'd spent, driving you to the brink of insanity... it comforted him.
And that realization was enough to make you beam.
You commit that final glimpse to memory. Javi—smiling, calm, alive, yours. It was rare enough that you felt sure it would stick.
When you finally turn to face the gate, to face your future, you don’t feel like crying anymore.
It was enough just to have met him.
Maybe—just maybe—he felt the same.
All my friends tell me I should move on
I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song
Ahh
That's how you sang it
Loving you forever can't be wrong
Even though you're not here, won't move on
Ahh
That's how we played it
And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody
It won't leave my head
Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine
But I wish I was dead (dead, like you)
Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side
Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side
All my friends ask me why I stay strong
Tell 'em when you find true love, it lives on
Ahh
That's why I stay here
And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody
It won't leave my head
Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine
But I wish I was dead (dead, like you)
Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side
Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight
I don't want to wake up from this tonight
There's no relief, I see you in my sleep
And everybody's rushing me, but I can feel you touching me
There's no release, I feel you in my dreams
Telling me I'm fine
Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side
Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight
I don't want to wake up from this tonight
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TAGLIST:
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deltaharrington · 9 months
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RED PT 1.
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PAIRING: Jeremiah Fisher x Fem! Reader
SUMMARY: The reader is convinced that Jeremiah is in love with Belly. Is he?
WARNINGS: NOT EDITED, a bit of angst
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Loving Jeremiah was like falling in love with a celebrity. It was almost as if he didn’t know you existed. That’s what it felt like to you.
The Fisher House in Cousins was an oasis for you. Your family had lived next door for years and you practically lived with Susannah, Laurel, and their kids.
You and Jeremiah had become particularly close. He was your best friend. As you two grew up, however, he began to get distant. You thought you understood why.
He was in love with Belly.
You had spent years dreaming about what it would be like to be his, silently loving him while he listed after someone else.
You eventually became numb to him, distancing yourself helped you as well.
After Belly broke Jeremiah’s heart, you wanted to be there for him. But you knew your heart would break as well, so you saved yourself. That was your biggest regret.
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Returning to Cousins wasn’t something you’d thought you’d be doing, let alone with Jeremiah. You had called him in a half drunken haze because you missed him, only for the blonde to tell you that his brother was MIA.
That sobered you up fast.
Only living a few minutes from Brown, you offered to help him check on Conrad. You cared about them both.
When you met up, his eyes were cold. You didn’t like that, not one bit.
It didn’t take you both long to find out that Conrad was in Cousins, and Jeremiah intended to find him.
“I’m coming with you” You said and he looked at you with disgust. Ouch.
“No-“ He started, but you were over his attitude.
“I care about Conrad too.” You said and he sighed, knowing you wouldn’t take no for an answer.
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“Fuck!” Jeremiah yelled, frustrated, after you had hit a large pothole, resulting in a flat tire.
“I can help you change-“
“No, I’ve got it” He said, but you got out anyways.
He didn’t know what he was doing and you tried to guide him, but he just kept getting angry.
“Just stop! Y/n! Goddammit!” He screamed, his angry eyes meeting yours. and you weren’t phased.
“Listen to me, Jeremiah” You said, your voice becoming more angered “I don’t know what the fuck happened between you and Belly, but you don’t need to take it out on me.” You said and his eyes softened a bit.
“I know I should have been there for you, but I was hurting too” You said and he looked shocked. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I should have been, but seeing you hurting and then your mom- I couldn’t…” You trailed off and leaned against the car as you felt a panic attack begin.
“Woah, Y/n, breathe for me” He said and let you fall into his arms, “In and out…” He started “Just like that, there you go…” He walked you through.
“Get off me” You said to him and he shook his head, holding you close.
“I’m sorry I’ve been an ass” He said “I ended things with Belly before she told me about Conrad, I wasn’t hurting because of her” He whispered and you were confused.
“You wouldn’t even look at me, and I realized I had lost the person I had been in love with since we were kids” Jeremiah explained and you were shocked.
“I didn’t think you felt that way about me” You said “When Belly had her glow up, you just pushed me away” You spoke, your tears welling again.
“You were my best friend Jeremiah, and you pushed me to the side” You spoke and he began to tear up.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing, what I was losing” He said and you reached up to caress his cheek.
You could tell he was trying to resist, being stubborn. “Do you still…?” You asked, wondering if he still loved you, as more than a friend.
Jeremiah tried to look away, but he couldn’t, his eyes locking on yours as he finally gave into his temptation. “Yes…I still” He whispered before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours desperately.
He pushed you up against the side of the Jeep, his arms wrapped around your waist.
Your lips loved together in sync, as all the love you had held for each other was unleashed.
Pulling away, you pressed four forehead against his, he smiled a bit.
“I love you, Y/n, I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear before” He explained and you nodded your head.
“I love you too, it’s okay, Jeremiah” You said and he smiled a bit.
“Can you help me change this tire now?” He asked and you laughed.
“Only if I get a kiss first” You said and he rolled his eyes, complying to your request.
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PART 2?
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coolprettyleo · 1 month
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we can't be friends (wait for your love) - luke hughes
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luke hughes x reader
wc: 1.5k
tw: angst. fluff. arguing. breakup. no happy ending. not really proofread, got tired lol
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
your life had been going good, a little too good. you should have knew all too well that the daydream you had been in weren't going to last much longer.
luke hughes. the man who had stolen your heart and gave you the best memories a boyfriend could give a girl like you. for someone who's thought themselves to be the biggest hopeless romantic, meeting luke had been the light in your life.
you had met the younger hughes brother at a frat party. he had been running off a high after a good game and his normally reserved nature had cracked due to the adrenaline from the win, it gave him the confidence to flirt with you.
initially, you had thought he was going to be a casual hookup. you were taught the hookup culture early into your freshman year, when you thought the frat guy you slept with at your first ever party the night before was going to give you the time of day, once the cloths came on.
news flash you learnt something that day. men are sluts.
so when the star hockey player started flirting with you, you had thought it to be just another guy who wanted a hookup. you ultimately decided to live out your fourteen year old selves Wattpad dream and entertain the cute curly haired boy.
you were surprised when you opened instagram the morning after to find he had requested you and from there on out, the rest was history.
it didn't take long for you guys to become the golden couple of the university. you attended his games wearing his jersey, met each others friends and families, and most importantly fell in love with one another's nature.
everything was going perfect for the two of you, until the real world decided it wanted to slap you both across the face. hard.
luke's passion was and will always be hockey. you knew that when you met him and ultimately decided to jump into a relationship with him. you loved every part about him, including hockey; it's what made him, him.
the sport didn't come between the two of you until he moved over six hundred miles away to play it.
you knew it was coming, you've both talked about it but unfortunately talking about it and actually saying goodbye is two very different things.
you loved the curly haired boy but you were beginning to wonder if it was all even worth it anymore. it was clear long distance was not working in your favor.
it had been almost a year since he started with the devils. a year since it all went to shit. a year since this 'rough patch' as luke liked to call it started. surely a rough patch couldn't last this long?
long distance usually makes a couple or it breaks them. it seemed to be breaking the two of you.
you rarely got to see your boyfriend due to the fact he's glued to the team during the season, so it was up to you, to fly out and see him.
you hated flying. so almost every time, your stress levels shot through the roof causing the worst headache known to man kind to come across you. automatically putting you in a sour mood when landing.
flashback
"i don't understand why you're being like this, this whole thing is planned around the fact that the team wants to meet you!" luke said exaspertly as he helped her load her bags in his jeep. he talked about you so much that when jack opened his mouth about you coming to visit, the wags were quick to plan a get-together, and you had just said you weren't up for it.
"i'm sorry luke but I feel like crap. i dont want to put up a character and meet new people right now"
"then don't put up a character, be yourself. that's who I fell in lov-" he said as you rolled your eyes, wincing; seeing as it didn't help the slamming feeling in your head.
"I don't want to Luke!" you cut him off. luke took a deep breath and texted jack to let them know you guy's wouldn't be making it.
looking back at it now; it wasn't that serious. but that headache couldn't make you think straight. that had been the first fight between the two of you. you're pretty sure thats when all his friend deemed you to be the villain and told him he deserved better.
you began to believe that and you knew luke did too. you just wanted this story to die, you knew you'd be alright.
luke on the other hand was clinging to every inch of you he could get; while you clinged to your papers and pens; writing about your misery.
you loved to write so of course you were going to pour your emotions into these stories. hoping the book would understand better then Luke ever could.
you two were laying in his bed, cloths sprawled out across his bedroom floor.
you had landed in jersey last night, ready to pretend and be the picture luke painted of you.
the two of you had the best night, it had been a while since you last seen him and an even longer while since you last seen him and everything felt... right.
you should of known a storm was brewing.
you were leaning your head onto his bare chest, legs tangled between each other as you played with his curls, looking up at him. he was growing into being the most handsome man.
"im so happy your here" he said tracing down your arms.
"me too. I missed your face" you said as you leaned up and kissed his jaw as he blushed. moments like these made you want throw away all the doubts you had about the relationship.
"me too. i can't wait to wake up next to you everyday" he said as your blood ran cold. you were tired of tiptoeing and hiding around the fight you knew was to come.
he'd been wanting you to move to jersey since he moved, the only problem being, is that you didn't want to.
"what's wrong" he said as you moved away his heart falling too his stomach.
"remember how I told you I wanted to graduate first?" you said nervously. he knew you were going to graduate early and the excuse of school was soon going to expire.
"yeah, thats pretty soon. we need to start looking for a place, by the way-"
"luke-" you started, wanting to stop it before it got any further.
"I think it'll do good for jack and I to get space" he said jokingly as he kept rambling,
"I know you've always wanted to live in manhattan, we can get a place there, i can commute-"
"im not coming here after graduation" you said with watery eyes.
you were the villain, at least in this story.
you wanted to experience life. you were only twenty one and the idea of that part of your life ending before you even got to begin it made you want to spiral.
"im sorry?" he said looking at you like you just killed his childhood dog. he would wait for your love a million years, if thats what it took.
"luke- im sorry, but I want to experience things. i want to live this life and know every corner of it-"
"i don't understand. why can't we those things together?"
"im sorry" you said standing up, not really sure what to do anymore.
"are we breaking up" he said with a straight face. you knew he was holding back tears.
"for now, yes" she told him as he put his head down.
you weren't heartless, so you took a seat next to him as you wrapped an arm around him.
"hey, look at me luke. this isn't the end, I'll still always care about you, I want to see you succeed hughsey" you told him as he remebered the night he met you and you called him that.
___
future
luke had been doing amazing; breaking records in the NHL and living life like anyone his age should be. his life was going good.
he obviously missed you but he soon learned he was going to be alright, even though a part of him waiting for your love. your love to like him again.
the smarter part of him knew better, the story was over.
he got home from a game that had went amazing for him and set his stuff down as he opened instagram.
the very first picture being, one of you and your new boyfriend. he knew you moved on and moved to nyc. he's actually ran into you before, both of you acting like you didnt break each others heart into a million peices. acting like old friends.
the reason the picture made his heart drop was due to the fact you were holding up a ring as you looked into the eyes of another. another who wasn't Luke Hughes.
he couldn't do it. he tried, he really did. he wanted to see you succeed and live like you wanted, he just couldn't bare to see it without him in it.
he clicked on her profile as he hovered over the unfollow button. he oh so desperately wanted to pretend to be this daydream but he was reminded of the fact their story had ended. he hit the button and knew he'd be alright.
we can't be friends (wait for your love)
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this was inspired by an edit I saw on tiktok, and obviously the song too lol. I can't find the edit but like yeah!
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nhlclover · 15 days
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so american | rutger mcgroarty
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word count: 1.35k
summary: on your way to the spend a weekend at the lake house with his teammates, you think about your future with rutger
warnings: british reader!, mentions of some other umich players (nick, duke brothers), brief sad thoughts
notes: based on 'so american' by olivia rodrigo. who am i if not writing fics based on songs.
The morning sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden hue on Rutger’s jeep that rumbled down the highway, its tires humming against the asphalt. Rutger sat in the driver's seat, his left hand holding a loose grip on the wheel, while you sat comfortably in the passenger seat, your feet were propped up on the dashboard. Rutger insisted you hit the road early to get to Jacob’s lake house around mid-morning. You felt that was a little too early, but he was excited to spend some spare time at the end of the semester with his friends and girlfriend, relaxing on the water. To make up for the early start time, Rutger bought you an iced coffee and promised that you could sleep in the car on the way over.
However, you couldn’t find yourself able to fall back asleep, instead taking over aux, the early morning air that flowed through the cracked windows helping to rejuvenate you. You tapped your fingers against the door handle, matching the beat of the song you’d selected. Dirt On My Boots by Jon Pardi filled the space, a contented smile gracing your lips.
“You’ve turned so American.” Rutger says, pulling your brain out of its brief daze.
“What?” You ask, your brows furrowing.
“I mean… look at you,” Rutger says with a chuckle. “You’re sitting there with your feet on the dash, you’re listening to country music, and you’re repping USA merch.”
Rutger motions to one of his hoodies that you’d thrown on as you were leaving. It was one given to him by the world juniors team he’d just played on, the letters U-S-A largely displayed on the chest.
You turned to him, adjusting your position in the seat. "Oh, please, don't say that. I'm still very much British, thank you very much." You retort, rejecting the idea that you’d become American in any way.
When you applied for an exchange to the University of Michigan, nothing could’ve prepared you for what would’ve come. On your first day of classes in the new country, you met Rutger. When a pretty girl sat next to him in one of his classes, he knew he had to talk to her. It didn’t take long for the two of you to develop feelings, Rutger soon being the ‘dreamy American’ that your friends had jokingly told you you’d fall for. And fall for him you did.
It was unfair of Rutger to make you feel this much when you both knew your future was uncertain.
“Hey, there is nothing wrong with being American.” Rutger points out.
“Yeah says the American.” You tease, rolling your eyes. “Thank god I’m going home soon. I need to reconnect with my roots if you think I’ve become American.”
Despite that being a joke, you couldn't shake the underlying sadness that gnawed at you. In just one week, you were leaving Michigan and returning to the UK. The thought of leaving Rutger and the life you’d established in Michigan weighed heavily on your heart. You knew that the bond you’d established with Rutger would withstand the miles and borders, however the prospect of being separated from him felt like tearing away a piece of you.
Rutger, sensing the shift in your demeanour as well as knowing that the inevitable move was weighing on you, reached over, taking your hand in his. His cold fingers lacing between yours quickly drew you back to reality.
“Hey,” He said softly. “Try not to think about it for now. Enjoy this weekend. We’ve got ages to figure it all out.”
You squeezed Rutger’s hand drawing comfort from his touch. With a gentle smile, you met his gaze, gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Rut.” You said softly.
Rutger returned your smile, turning his attention back to the road while keeping your hand in his. You continued the drive, doing your best to expel the thoughts of leaving from your mind.
Three hours later, Rutger pulled down a laneway that ultimately led to a large house on the water. Rutger’s teammates were already outside, eagerly awaiting your arrival.
“Hey guys!” Rutger called out as they stepped out of the car. Rutger’s teammates come over, greeting the two of them.
“This place is beautiful.” You comment, admiring the glimpse of the water you could see past the house.
“God, I will never get over the accent.” Nick said. Rutger shoved his shoulder while you playfully rolled your eyes.
You considered yourself lucky that you’d become friends with Rutger’s teammates. From the moment Rutger introduced you to them, they’d welcomed you with open arms. And as you spent more time with them, they weren’t just Rutger’s teammates, they were your friends as well.
“Alright, now go get changed, we’re hitting the water.” Luca said, ushering the two of you inside.
You headed up to your room, changed into the swimsuits you’d brought, and then headed downstairs to meet the rest of the group. The rest of the afternoon, you guys remained on the water. You all took turns on the tube, as well as some of the boys deciding to test their water skiing skills. When the sun began to descend towards the horizon, a golden hue being cast on the water, you headed back to the house to start dinner, which was a full team activity in which everyone was put to work doing something. You and Rutger were put in charge of the barbecue on the back patio, teaming up with Dylan and Tyler to grill the burgers and corn.
After dinner was demolished, you headed down to the fire pit, relaxing in the Adirondack chairs, talking about whatever came to mind. The flames cast flickering glows on everyone's faces as you discussed sports, your exams, and random childhood anecdotes whether relevant or not. After a while of drinking and chatting, both you and Rutger hit your limits and decide to call it a night.
The second that Rutger’s head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light, the day’s activities catching up with him. After a full day of tubing and waterskiing, combined with the drinks they’d consumed throughout the day, everyone was wiped. You, however, lay awake, the moonlight reflecting off the water and into the open window.
You traced your fingers through Rutger's hair, watching his bare chest rise and fall with steady breaths. With the tranquillity of the room enveloping you, you find yourself lost in a maze of thoughts, your mind swirling with visions of Rutger and the future they could share.
England was home. England was where you grew up, where your family and friends still resided. The thought of leaving them to be in North America made your heart tense. However, lying in the sheets and staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but imagine moving to North America to be with Rutger. As you look over at him, still peacefully asleep, you imagine the prospect of uprooting your life for the American boy you fell in love with, of bridging the distance to be with Rutger.
Your thoughts continue to wander, picturing what could come of life in America with Rutger. Your mind entertains the notion of marriage, a distant yet possible milestone. That might be a little presumptuous of you, with your relationship still being in its infancy, but you practically couldn’t help it. The way he’d made you feel in the past 8 months was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Every moment with him felt like a moment torn from a romance book. Every moment with him was filled with laughter and stolen glances, creating an undeniable intimacy and connection.
You had to eventually force those thoughts out of your mind or else they would’ve kept you up all night. You rolled over, curling into Rutger’s side, and placing a delicate hand on his abs. Rutger stirred momentarily, instinctively wrapping his arm around you, drawing you closer. For now, you were content to simply be in this moment with him, cherishing the time you had left before you had to return home.
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obrowne21 · 2 months
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ʙᴀʙʏ ɪ’ᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ
Chapter 2 - “Hates the Perfect Word”
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“Don’t stay out here too late, Baby.”
Sergeant Ken Lemmons was only partly joking with Baby when he said this to her. However over the three weeks of getting to know the stubborn blonde, he realized it wasn’t so far fetched for her to lose track of time.
And that would be proven correct as Baby was still out on the Airstrip, working away. She found it difficult to leave seeing as the view was so beautiful. The sunset painted the sky a warm orange and pink tone. A calm breeze briefly passed her, ruffling the tall grass, the trees, and even the bottom of her dress as it did so.
Sighing, she found a comfortable spot on a nearby crate. Busying herself by screwing two engine pieces together with a basic rod. The action was done smoothly like muscle memory.
A loud sound of an engine and the screech of tires had broken her peaceful state. Internally rolling her eyes, Baby prepared herself.
That could mean only one thing.
The jeep made a rough stop in front of her causing her to look up at the person responsible for the interruption.
Major John ‘Bucky’ Egan.
Even the thought of his name sparked annoyance in Delilah. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that was so infuriating.
Maybe it was the way he walked around base like he was the king of the world. He had everybody under his spell, especially her brother Gale. She couldn’t understand how the two had ever became friends.
Or maybe it was how he would sometimes get caught looking at her but would never say anything.
It was like a game of tug of war. Always giving her signs of interest but then taking it back as if he physically and mentally couldn’t bring himself to go there with her. Like something was stopping him, more like someone.
She had a pretty good idea of who.
“A little birdy told me you were out here.” Leaning back in his seat, Bucky faced the woman.
Delilah, uninterested, gave him a nod before focusing back onto her work. “Never really liked birds.”
“Sad to hear that. They’re real fascinating creatures. I’m more of a unicorn guy myself-”
“I bet you are.”
After a beat of silence, Delilah glanced up to see him staring at her once again. It could’ve been because she had just rudely interrupted him but by the way the corner of his mouth twitched into his signature smirk made her think differently.
His eyes held nothing but admiration as he kept his gaze on her. The way she smoothly worked away like it was her second nature was wildly attractive. Not to mention the quick wits that shamelessly left her pretty mouth, which instead of feeling insulted he would always feel more amazed by her.
“Gale send you out here?”
“No.”
“So tell me…Major Bucky,” The name rolled off her tongue as a taunt. Placing the tool and engine piece down beside her, she leaned back onto her hands. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being in your presence?”
Bucky watched as she seductively crossed her legs and tilted her head awaiting for an answer. The reminder that she was his best friends little sister kept blaring in the back of his mind. But it was so damn hard to listen to.
“Maybe I just want to be in yours.” Copying her action, Bucky tilted his head. “You ever think of that?”
”It’s hard to when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”
He knew exactly what she referring to. Part of it was intentional but at the same time he really never knew how to approach her. Which was odd for him.
John Egan never struggled in talking to women. However he would always overthink with Delilah. She made him nervous, in a good way.
“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Bucky let out a nervous scoff knowing he had been called out.
The use of the nickname made Baby raise her eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a new one.”
“You like it?”
“I’m not sure yet.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been called many things, Major Bucky, but sweet has never been one of them.”
“What?” He dropped his jaw dramatically, pretended to be shocked. “You’re the sweetest.”
Bucky watched as she let out an adorable laugh as she threw her head back. A small wave of pride washed over him at the fact that he got her to smile, let alone talk to him for more than five seconds.
“If I’m sweet then you’re a good singer.” She playfully jutted.
“Oh,” He placed a hand on his heart. “You wound me, Baby. I’d have you know I’m an excellent singer.”
“A little birdy told me differently.”
Looking away Bucky chewed away on the piece of gum in his mouth. Damn, she was good.
“If this birdy happens to be tall, boring, and has a head full of blonde hair on his head than you should ignore him and come see for yourself.”
Delilah laughed not taking him seriously. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’m serious.” He said. Eyes connecting with her honey brown ones. “There’s a dance, day after tomorrow. Come and I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Might skip out on this one.” She declined.
Nodding Bucky looked down. An idea popped into his head that might change her mind. “Huh, guess you Clevens are more alike than you want to admit.”
If there was anything he learned from witnessing the Cleven sibling duo was that they both were complete opposites. Buck was more serious, rule follower, and never really liked to do anything risky.
And although he didn’t talk to Delilah much, he would notice how she liked to do things in an untraditional way. Her presence here as one of the first female mechanics proves that. She also loved to make fun out of most situations. A small joke was always at the tip of her tongue and she could never keep it there.
He’d like to bet she loved to dance too.
Picking up the tool beside her she pointed it at Bucky with an annoyed glare. “Take that back right now.”
Bingo.
“Makes sense.” He shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Guess the ‘never have a good time’ genes got passed down to both of ya.”
“I can have a good time.” She rebutted.
Bucky nodded, not really convinced at all. “Okay.”
A moment of silence passed as Bucky continued to poke fun at Delilah as she thought over his words.
Letting go of her cheek, the one she was anxiously biting, Delilah sighed. “What times the stupid dance?”
A smile of victory took plastered across the Major's face as he mentally celebrated. “I’ll be there at 8:00, that’s when the real party starts.”
“Can’t wait.” She gave him a fake smile.
Taking a look around, they both knew that it was about to get dark soon and should head back.
Reaching over the passenger seat of the Jeep, Bucky propped open the door with one arm. “Hop in, sweetheart. I’ll give you a ride back.”
“I have a bike, you know?”
“That old thing?” Simultaneously the two turned to look at the bike leaning on the side of the crate she was sitting on.
“Yeah,” Delilah smiled proudly. It was one of the things she built on her own when she first got here. “Isn’t he pretty?”
“He?”
“Well you men always refer to your cars and planes as woman, so I’d thought I’d return the favor.”
As the blonde continued to admire her piece of work, Bucky’s gaze shifted to her. Taking in her smooth tan skin and pretty freckles that he’d like to individually kiss. And finally her full lips that were just calling his name.
He watched as she grabbed the handles of the bike and easily kicked her leg over to get on it. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Baby?”
“I’d rather ride a thousand miles on this old thang than one in there with you.”
He was left speechless as she petaled away without a second thought. The fact that her and a Buck were siblings was still a shock to him.
No matter how different the two were they both had something in common. The Clevens had captured John Egans heart. With a Buck it was respect and friendship. And with Delilah.
Oh, Delilah. He hadn’t even got to know her fully yet and she already had him hooked.
Snapping out of his trance he started the engine before catching up and riding along beside her. Now he was back to looking between the road and her pretty side profile.
“Still got you to go to the dance with me.” He gloated.
Once again, John Egan had managed to make her smile. Shaking her head she tried to petal faster but he would just match her speed. “I hate you!”
“Hates a strong word.”
“Hates the perfect word.”
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A/N : As y’all can tell I love a good slow burn. Hope y’all liked it! Let me know your thoughts on it please, I love to hear feedback.
ALSO DAYUM YALL REALLY CAME THREW WITH THE LIKES ON MY POSTS
Tag list(I can’t believe I have those now🤭):
@valenftcrush
@justheretoreadthhx
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harlowcomehome · 2 months
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Tensions:
Series link!
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Jack sat at his family kitchen table, nursing a warm mug of throat coat tea in his hands as he ran his shaky fingers through his tousled curls. He was using a mug that you had bought him for your one year anniversary, one of many gifts you had gotten him that day. He smiled looking down at it knowing you were beyond irritated with him right now it provided some comfort.
You’re going to mess this up, why can’t you juggle a relationship and your career? The thoughts swirled around in his brain, making him almost physically ill until the sound of his mother’s voice interrupted his thought process.
“Someone who loves me got me this mug” Maggie read out loud, a giggle escaping her as she knew her son was sitting in his regret. She overheard the argument between you two this morning, no matter how much you tried to keep your voice down Jack’s deep voice carried throughout the house. The pouty look on his face and prominent eye-bags were also an immediate tell.
“She’s pretty pissed at me so I thought I’d remind myself that she still loves me” he flashed her a fake smile, trying his best to make a joke out of the situation as he usually did.
“I can’t exactly blame her” Maggie spoke to her son in a soft tone, knowing he was already upset from the fight that the two of you had. “Where is she right now?”
“With Neelam, working on some stuff” He sighed, “it’s not like I intended for the other place to fall through, and with filming the movie and the album dropping, I don’t see the rush. I just feel like it’s not fair for her to be upset about it” he nervously fidgeted in his chair, the wood cracking underneath his tall frame.
“It’s also not fair for you to expect her to agree with you on everything. She has to realize that with your career there are a lot of sacrifices that have to be made and you have to realize that not everything is always about you. Sometimes she just needs her feelings validated and heard” Brian chimed in as he started to wash off the dish he had used for breakfast.
“It’s a rarity but your dad’s right” Maggie teased, giving Brian a nod. This was a topic that both Maggie and Brian had already discussed privately, seemingly being able to feel your frustrations before Jack was aware of them.
“I know you want your own space, so what’s stopping you?” Maggie sat down with Jack at the kitchen table while Brian continued to wash what little dishes were in the sink. It had already been a little over a month, and while she was happy to have you both she knew the two of you needed your space.
“I just want things to be perfect. I already made her move from Atlanta to here and I don’t want us to end up in another place that doesn’t feel perfect” he avoided his mother's gaze, knowing she’d draw the entire truth out of him and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit it. He felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he just wished y/n would give him more grace.
“And what else?” Maggie was patient, knowing he’d get there eventually.
“I just don’t want to disappoint her. I feel like what I’m looking for in a place isn’t out there. Maybe we should’ve built a home?” He stretched his long legs out, becoming fidgety once again.
Brian shook his head, knowing Jack and his mother were alike in that aspect. It is always hard to be content when you want more and more and more.
Jack's phone vibrated, interrupting the conversation as he excused himself to answer it. “Hey baby, what’s going on?”
You did your best to put your eavesdropping of his acting lessons to work, frantically making your voice go up an octave as you lied about his jeep getting a flat tire. You both were sharing a car right now after selling yours before the move.
You hadn’t spoken to him in hours and he was still on edge but when he heard your worried voice on the other end his heart dropped. “I’ll be right there! Don’t worry, I’m on my way.”
Maggie and Brian looked at him curiously as he ran to get shoes on. “Can I borrow the car?” He was panicked and didn’t wait for an answer before running out of the door.
You shared your location with Jack and he showed up almost immediately surprised when he found you calmly sitting inside the jeep.
He pulled up beside you, confused as all four tires were fine. He got out of his parent’s car and knocked on the window, scaring you briefly before you got out of the car.
“I thought you had a flat?” His brow was furrowed, and a look of confusion spread across his face as he walked around the car to take a second look.
“I had a big strong man help me instead” you teased squeezing his bicep and pushing his buttons on purpose.
His cheeks became red in an instant, “stop playing with me. Why did you really call me down here?” He pulled you into his chest, rocking back and forth with you.
“Are you still grumpy?” You pouted, knowing he wasn’t as emotionally strong-willed as he’d like to think as you stroked his beard with your nails.
“Are you still bratty?” He joked, knowing both of you were full of emotions and regret.
“I hate fighting with you and I’m sorry” you blurted out knowing you hated the space you were in.
“I’m sorry too baby, but umm where are we?” He turned toward the apartment building.
“The landlord gave me the keys to a unit for an hour so we can tour it. If you don’t like it, that’s fine and we can keep looking. It looked nice online” You held the keys up in the air still giving him the same pouty face.
“Let’s go tour this place” he turned to his parents' car making sure it was locked with the click of a button before the two of you walked over to the empty apartment.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to start envisioning a life in it, expressing where the couches could go or what bedroom would be the office space but when Jack went silent on you, you were worried something had gone wrong.
You turned to him as he had gone quiet, he was leaning against the wall, watching admirably as you babbled about kitchen appliances, and taking mental note that you wanted a kitchen aid (preferably in lavender.)
“Do you not like it? We can keep looking, I have another viewing after this one. I was trying to be proactive but if you’re not sold on this place that’s okay too” You nervously rambled especially when he didn’t speak to you in return, even after all this time together his icy blues had that effect on you.
“I love you” he hummed, walking toward you as he threw his head back, a soft laugh escaping him. “I really, really love you” his hands explored your body as he pulled you into him.
“I love you too babe” You kissed him, pulling on his lip as you pulled away. You pushed his curls out of his face.
“Do you want another apartment or should we look at houses?” He wanted to know your honest opinion.
“Well this year, we will hardly be home and it’s just the two of us right now, so I think an apartment is perfect! But do you want to check the other one out to be sure?”
He nodded, knowing that was the responsible thing to do. “We are probably going to spend a lot of our time in LA this year with the movie” he reminded you.
“Neelam said about three or four months so that’s not bad and then we can tour in the fall, right?” You walked back to the cars holding hands, Jack had become less concerned about who saw you two and you followed his lead.
“Nail tech drops the 18th so I have to finish that music video this week and we have the Turks and Caicos trip at the beginning of March” he was trying to remember everything important, but wore his stress on his face.
“I remember, I have your schedule. Don’t worry about it” You pushed the same stray curl out of his face, as he opened the jeep car door for you.
You had no idea what made him decide to actually take a vacation, you had hopes your convincing had something to do with it or maybe because life was about to be incredibly hectic he decided he deserved it. You were surprised when he took Drake's offer to come, and even more surprised when he asked you to come with him.
So imagine your surprise when you find out the real reason he invited you on this trip…. 💍
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mieczyslawsravenclaw · 2 months
Text
Best Friends, Is That All? - Stiles Stilinski
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•Pairing - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!
•Summary/Prompt - Just a regular ride in Stilesʼ jeep…Or it would be, if the love-struck fool could stop asking you how you feel about him. Guess someone's got a different kind of ride in mind...
•Warnings/Content - Pretty much all bases covered, they definitely fuck, tons of begging and mentions of markings and scratching, they use a condom bc SAFETY, oral oral lots of oral, TONS of petnames sorry its cheesy ik but I canʼt help it, lots of praise too bc thatʼs tasty, oh yeah and boys whimpering bc thatʼs just hot asf, they're in love so it's a little fluffier but still VERY spicy
•Word Count - 4.5k
•Authorʼs Note(s) - As always, just want to write about the spicy ideas I get from having spicy dreams, I feel like this oneʼs a little better than the last one but who knows? >_< /// (YA'LL I EXPECTED LIKE 4 LIKES ON MY SPENCER BLURB AND I GOT OVER 200 TY????? WTF???? )
•Additional Tags - they fuck in the jeep!, stiles is a whore for begging, theyʼre obsessed with eachother ffs, Switch!Stiles but mostly Sub!Stiles, he talks her through it UGH YES, CONSENT IS KEY, heʼs okay with whatever even if that means he doesnʼt get laid, Stiles is one cocky SOB with BDE and just a big dick oops, theyʼre for sure gonna fuck again before the night is over hehehe
“Do you get nervous?ˮ
The question takes me by surprise - Up until now, it had been a normal, routine drive with Stiles, albeit more fidgety than usual from his side. But once the question has left his lips, heʼs even more so, if thatʼs possible.
“Do I…yeah, definitely. Of course I do.ˮ I quirk my eyebrow at him; Heʼs avoiding my eyeline, focused far too much on the road ahead.
Something else, another question maybe, passes his lips, but itʼs far too quiet for me to catch. The poor thing is redder than a tomato, tapping his hands on the wheel as he starts to drive just a little faster unknowingly.
“Huh?ˮ
“A-About…M-mmmmm.ˮ Stiles stutters, dragging out his thought. The jeep seems to follow its driver, stuttering a bit on the road as he pushes the pedal down further.
“Sti, are you okay?ˮ
“Nervous.ˮ He repeats the word like heʼs reading it from a dictionary, not like heʼs using it as a self description. Weʼre getting further into the back roads now, and if I didnʼt know any better, Iʼd think he was bringing me out here to kill me or something.
“Pull over a sec, yeah?ˮ
He nods, bringing the jeep to a crawl along a forest road that could more accurately be called a trail, if anything. The silence is filled only by the bumping of the tires on the gravel, until we reach a stopping point, surrounded by nothing but trees for miles.
“Whatʼs eating at you, Stilinski?ˮ I turn in my seat, eyeing him in the mid-day light. Filtered through the jeepʼs dusty windows, he looks like a modern god, and my heart can hardly take it. Iʼve loved this poor boy a long time, but Iʼve never been brave enough to say it. And now, weʼre all alone in the woods for who knows what reason, and Iʼm more nervous than ever.
“Dʼyou ever get nervous…about me?ˮ He manages, his eyes squeezing shut and his fists clenching tight. He lets out a huge breath, then continues in a ramble, “God, I canʼt believe I even just asked that. Holy shit. I mean, you make me so nervous. Dʼyou know that? Youʼre my best friend, and you make me so nervous I feel like I canʼt even breathe, I want you to just reach over and break the distance between us and give in and just take me. God-ˮ
“Sti.ˮ It comes out half-choked. The lump in my throat swells - oh, my god, he likes me too? - as I scoot ever closer to him.
“Oh, of course not,ˮ He sighs, eyes still closed. He doesnʼt see me shift again, within touching distance, he just keeps on with his nervous blabber. “I mean, someone as beautiful as you with a guy like me? Come on, Stiles, get real.ˮ
“Stiles. Look at me, damn it.ˮ Hands shaking, Iʼm reaching over to touch him when he listens to me, turning and looking all in one motion.
“Oh, hi there.ˮ He blurts, flushing crimson.
“Yes, I get nervous about you, too.ˮ I can hardly believe Iʼm uttering the words. But my fear is trumped by the desperate need for him, right here and right now. I canʼt believe of all times and places, this is where itʼs gonna happen, but I donʼt quite care at the same point, either.
“You do?ˮ
“Stiles, I can barely contain myself around you. These past few months especially, I just-ˮ My reaching hands are still hanging near him, and he notices, finally, taking them in his own. I let out a shaking breath, closing my own eyes in desperate need to escape his searching gaze that sends my pulse skyrocketing. “You-Youʼre everything, do you know that? Iʼve wanted to tell you for so long, but I didnʼt think youʼd even look at me like that, I just thought-ˮ
“Best friends, nothing more?ˮ He chuckles softly, and I can sense the way his lips curl, not even needing to see it to know it. “Yeah, sounds familiar. Hey, look at me. I like you, you idiot.ˮ
My eyes open at the last few words, and seeing it straight from his mouth makes me lose myself for a moment. All I can do is blankly stare, my stomach doing flips. He likes me, he likes me, he likes me!
“Can you say something?ˮ He groans, eyes flicking between my own and down to my mouth. “Like, maybe confirm to me that you like me back? I mean, you kinda said as much, but I just really wanna hear you say it. Can you say it? Is that okay? Youʼre killing me, here-ˮ
“I like you too. Of course I do, who wouldnʼt?ˮ
“You do. For sure? Not just tryna pity me, are you?ˮ He quips, but itʼs clearly halfhearted.
“I really like you, dumbass.ˮ I move closer, dying for something to happen. Anything.
“Are you gonna kiss me now? Or am I gonna kiss you? Somebodyʼs gotta kiss somebody here, or Iʼm gonna lose it. Please, Iʼm begging you.ˮ
“Oh, youʼre begging me now?ˮ I smirk.
“Absolutely I am. If we were outside Iʼd be on my knees for you. Please, just fucking-ˮ He lets go of my hands, reaching for my waist as I grab at his collar.
We meld like itʼs second nature, lips forming together with a satisfied groan from Stiles that makes my legs weak. Somehow, I climb onto him in this cramped little jeep, bumping the steering wheel with my ass. He laughs, almost immediately going back to kissing me, a bit harder now. Itʼs clear in the way I grind my hips down to him with what I feel rising back to meet me that this is gonna take up a lot of our time together today.
I wonder for a moment if anyone will assume what weʼve gotten up to. Of course, Allison knows how I feel about Stiles, Iʼve told her a million times. I wonder if heʼs told Scott. Iʼm sure he has.
“Youʼre thinking too much,ˮ He growls, biting my lip. I moan back. “Thatʼs a lot coming from me,ˮ Another kiss, coming down my jaw now as I catch my breath. “I know. But…what can I do to get your mind back to me, hmm?ˮ
“That. Keep doing that.ˮ My hands tangle in the back of his hair, the tousled sort-of-waves that have grown out as of late being tugged as he nips at my neck.
“You want me to keep begging for you too?ˮ He teases, his lips coming up to my ear. “Cause I can do that all day, baby.ˮ
I nod, unable to grasp words with his breath against me.
“You gonna let me take you here, right now? Itʼs killing me to feel you on me like this and not have you. Please, let me have you, I canʼt stand it.ˮ
“T-tell me what you want me to do.ˮ I grasp harder at his hair, and he lets out a whimper. Oh, my god, that.
“I want you to fuckinʼ destroy me, and Iʼll beg until you do. God, Iʼm shameless, I donʼt even care if weʼre out here all alone or not, just please for the love of fuck, ride me like nothing else matters.ˮ
I pull his lips back to mine, silencing him for a time as we continue to make our own rhythm, learning one another with moans and laughs and tension unparalleled. Itʼs great, too great-I smack my head against the jeepʼs roof, letting out a yelp.
“Oh, shit-ˮ Stiles pulls me down against him, biting his lip when I land.
“Iʼm okay. Ow.ˮ
“How about we move this to the back?ˮ He pops the door open, letting me out first. Despite his words, heʼs back on my neck the moment weʼre outside, making it hard for me to push the seat down to get into the back.
“Stiles…ˮ I sigh, fumbling with the latch.
“Sorry, just want you-god, just want you so bad.ˮ He pulls back, reaching forward and sending the seat down with a practiced grasp.
I clamber inside, watching him hyperfocus on giving us as much room as possible. Front seats pushed down and forward, clutter thrown into the front, then heʼs back on me, kissing me and tugging at my shorts.
“Can I…?ˮ He motions, and I nod, letting him pull them down. His lips come back to mine, his fingers playing at the edge of my panties.
“Please-ˮ
“Youʼre begging now?ˮ He chuckles, his voice lower and throatier. Gods, Iʼm wet as fuck just from that.
“Shamelessly.ˮ I echo his earlier words, earning another small laugh.
“You want me, baby? How bad?ˮ He teases, hand grasping at my hip.
“Real-Really bad. Want you so bad, want you to-ˮ I canʼt even finish the thought, as he presses against my clit with his thumb. I moan, bucking up against him.
“Sorry, Iʼm impatient, you know that.ˮ He amends, kissing down my jaw and pulling back. He sits me up against the door, pulling my legs up and pressing a deep kiss against my opening. “Youʼre soaking, I can tell even through these little things.ˮ
I shudder, eyeing him in between my legs. Itʼs a sight to behold, and he isnʼt even getting started yet.
“Howʼs about we take em off, huh? Donʼt need these where weʼre going.ˮ He discards the fabric, and when his eyes meet the heat pooling below my belly, his jaw goes slack. I could almost swear he was drooling.
For a moment, Iʼm self conscious, folding in on my body under his gaze. But he holds my thighs back down, shaking his head.
“Uh-uh. No shame, right, princess?ˮ He hovers over me, eyes flicking back and forth between his focus and my face. “Now, you just let me know what feels good and what doesnʼt, okay? Wanna make sure you enjoy yourself.ˮ
“Stiles, Iʼm dying here, please just touch me already.ˮ
He smirks, another shake of the head, this one with a cocky air to it.
“If you insist, sweetheart.ˮ He brings his lips down to meet my opening, licking a stripe up that sends my hands grasping at the jeepʼs seat.
“Sti-ˮ
He hums against me, his grip on my thighs tightening. A few more precise licks, and heʼs delving into my core, filling the jeep with my desperate cries. Fuck, heʼs good, and Iʼm already closer by the minute.
“Taste so good, baby…ˮ He murmurs, getting lost in the task as my hands tug at his hair. When he shifts up to suck at my clit, the noise it brings from me is almost inhuman. “Feel good?ˮ
“Yes- oh my god, yes-ˮ
“Want more? How does this feel, hmm?ˮ He presses a finger to my opening, and I push against him, wordlessly begging. He chuckles, pushing it in fluidly. One, a few motions, and clearly Iʼm still desperate so he adds in another. “Talk to me, baby. Use your words.ˮ
“You want me to talk right now?ˮ I moan, my mind spinning in the pleasure-filled void heʼs trapped me in.
“I know, itʼs just too good, huh? You donʼt have to talk, your noises are more than enough.ˮ He curls his fingers, pulling against a sweet spot that has me crying out.
“Stiles!ˮ
Back down to me with his lips now, too, I can feel the smirk that starts up hearing me say his name like that. He knows exactly where he has me, and heʼs gonna relish in it. Not only are his fingers working magic now, but along with his tongue? Iʼm gonna break, and he knows it.
“Iʼm-Oh, donʼt stop-ˮ
A hummed approval is all I get from the usually chatty lips of Stiles Stilinski, his beard that heʼs let grow in recently brushing over me while he brings me to the edge. Iʼm practically drowning in the pleasure, and heʼs the air I need. One more fluid motion, just the right one, and Iʼm spilling curses from my mouth and wetness from my heat. He laps it up heartily, a satisfied groan from the recess of his throat vibrating against me.
“You…I just…wow.ˮ He pauses for a moment to look over me with a smile beginning to tug at the corner of his lips. I flush, back to being nervous under his eye.
“Stunned you into silence, eh, Stilinski?ˮ
“Oh, Iʼm far from done. Just figured Iʼd give you a break.ˮ He quips with a smirk.
“I donʼt need one.ˮ I blurt, the words faster than my brain.
“No?ˮ He laughs. “Okay, then. Well, if thatʼs the case, Iʼm begging you to get back to being all over me.ˮ
“In what way?ˮ I smirk, looking at his coated fingers.
He snorts, rolling his eyes.
“Funny.ˮ Keeping up eye contact, he licks his fingers clean. He seems to enjoy the groan it elicits from me. “Like that, huh? Iʼm looking forward to finding out what else you like.ˮ
I sit up, pressing to him once again. He tastes like me, and chuckles against my kiss. The clink of undoing his belt buckle becomes the sounds of rustling fabrics, my shirt tossed, his gone. His chest to mine, warm and inviting, and his pants kicked to the side. I fumble with my bra, my cheeks red.
“I…ˮ
“Yʼknow we can stop anytime, yeah?ˮ He amends, sensing my hesitation. “Like, of course Iʼm okay with whatever, I want you in all the ways. But only if youʼre comfortable. Consentʼs important.ˮ
“Oh, I want you. I want all of you, of course I do.ˮ I sigh. “Just…real nervous about how I look.ˮ
“You?ˮ Heʼs incredulous, pulling back and sweeping my body with his gaze. “Holy shit, no way. Nuh uh. You, youʼre…God, youʼre gorgeous, are you kidding me? Every part of you fits just right with the other, promise. You donʼt have to do anything you donʼt wanna do, but you gotta know that. You gotta know Iʼm gonna love how you look. I donʼt even need to have seen it yet to know. You just…are.ˮ
Iʼve been rendered speechless, and all I can do is take it off while he rambles.
“Not to say that you gotta just cause Iʼm saying all this. You get that, right? Iʼm not saying it just to get you to-ˮ He stops cold when Iʼve tossed the bra, my hands still hiding the majority of my chest. With a gentle grasp, he reaches to uncover me. “Can I…?ˮ
“Yeah, Iʼm just nervous.ˮ
“Thatʼs okay. Me, too. Youʼre beautiful though.ˮ He lifts my cover away softly, eyeing me with precision and adoration. He pokes at the moles and freckles that adorn my upper body, smiling as his eyes meet mine again. “See? Perfect. Nothing to worry about.ˮ
“Stiles, I adore you.ˮ I blurt, tears starting to form.
“Oh, sweetie.ˮ He pulls me closer, kissing my nose. “We can stop if youʼre really too nervous. I donʼt mind. Iʼll just jack off later or something, no big.ˮ
I snort at his words. “As much as Iʼd love to watch that. No, Iʼm okay. Just needed a moment, I guess. Trust me, Iʼm still dying for you.ˮ
His face goes red. “Youʼd- huh? Wow, thatʼs an image. Maybe another time, yeah? No shortage of things to think about for that, especially now Iʼve seen you and itʼs not just my imagination spurring me on.ˮ
“Youʼll have more to go on soon, too.ˮ I pull him back down onto me, kissing him.
“Fuck, youʼre hot.ˮ He moans. “Youʼre killing me.ˮ
“Destroying you,ˮ I correct him. “Thatʼs what you wanted, isnʼt it?ˮ
“Still want it,ˮ He grasps at me, nothing but his boxers to hide that want now. “Very much still want it.ˮ
More kissing ensues, and weʼre groping at eachother like weʼre high-schoolers again. Somehow, at some point, heʼs as bare as I am now and the way weʼre pressed to one another is the most tempting thing Iʼve ever experienced in my entire life.
“Hey, so, uh- not to seem like a copycat or anything, but…ˮ He breathes against my lips, his voice catching. “Yʼknow, nervous about how I look, now that Iʼm thinking about it. Not really very manly of me, I know, whatever.ˮ
“Fuck manliness,ˮ I amend, letting him pull back. “Youʼre perfect, you…oh, how could you not be?ˮ
What a sight he is to behold, in all his naked glory. Goosebumps pepper my skin as I look him over, from the moles that adorn him across his body the same way they do across his face, to the burning red that sits underneath his pale skin…to of course what heʼs referencing concern over the most. And thereʼs certainly none needed, in my opinion. No concerns, except how Iʼm gonna need to stretch out around that. Oh, my.
“Stiles…ˮ My voice, my gaze, softens. His shoulders drop. “Youʼre stunning.ˮ
“Not just saying that, are you?ˮ He brushes non-existent dirt from his shoulder. “My ego will be sorely bruised.ˮ
“Should I tell you or should I show you?ˮ I lick my lips, gaze going between his legs and back to his face. The noise he makes would be comical in any other circumstance.
“Fuck, definitely show me.ˮ
Now, itʼs his turn to lie back, and Iʼm in control. I must have absolutely stunned him, because heʼs got nothing to say, just watching me as I lower over him. Once I begin to kiss at and lick stripes over him, though, heʼs got plenty to say - I donʼt recognize half the curses he lets fly, they must be Polish or something. But fly they do, and his hand is at my hair when I start to take him in my mouth, grasp tight.
“Oh, my god-ˮ
I keep it up until he stops me a few moments later, a funny little quirk to his brows.
“God, I donʼt ever wanna stop this, but if you keep going like that Iʼm gonna fuckinʼ bust, and I gotta know what you feel like riding me first, please?ˮ He reaches blindly around, cursing. “Fuckinʼ - just need my wallet, whereʼd my jeans go?ˮ
I laugh, pulling back to help his search. When he comes up with the item in question, I understand- protection, no shit.
“Yeah, okay, now Iʼm ready.ˮ He nods after heʼs prepared himself, sitting up against the seat. He helps position me over him, eyes locked. “Oh, my god, is this actually real? I feel like Iʼm in some kinda magical dream.ˮ
“Very real. I remember what I had for breakfast and everything.ˮ I quip, trying to ease the nerves. They wonʼt go, though, and the knot in my stomach is ever-tighter as he brushes against my opening. “Fuck, I want you inside me, now.ˮ
“Kinda up to you, there.ˮ He holds me tight around the waist, eyes pleading. “Iʼm ready when you are, though, rock my fuckinʼ world sweetheart.ˮ
“Fuuuuuck, youʼre tight.ˮ He groans. “So thatʼs how you feel. No imagination or anything my hands can do compares to that.ˮ
The need is too great to put it off any longer; I let myself push down to meet him, the entering gasps we let out mingling in the short bit of air between us. His head falls back, his hands only guides as I bring myself further down, slowly, slowly, slowly. I take a moment around the first few inches to breathe; as ridiculous as it sounds, Iʼve never had someone quite as…gifted as him.
“Iʼm only getting started,ˮ I reply. “Genuinely, in all honesty, not a joke or anything. Youʼre…a lot to take.ˮ
“Having fun strokinʼ my ego?ˮ He chuckles.
“Tilʼ you give me something else to stroke.ˮ
“Fuck, thatʼs a promise.ˮ He ruts up against me, bringing a cry from my lips. “Shit, sorry, reflex. You feel so good, I just want more of you. Did I hurt you?ˮ
“No, it felt too good.ˮ I admit. “Just taking it slow cause Iʼm not really used to anything this…ˮ
“Big?ˮ Heʼs got the widest smirk on his face now.
“Howʼs that for your precious ego?ˮ I flirt, pushing down another bit with a sharp breath. The stretching pain is worth it for the look on his face.
“My ego is just fine. Big, just like my- Oh, my god-ˮ He stutters out, his bravado going out the window when I start to rock my hips back and forth. And was that a whimper? “Oh, please donʼt stop, keep going. Oh, god-ˮ
“Long as you keep begging.ˮ
The more I move, the easier it gets to take him, until Iʼm fairly close to bottoming out. Heʼs holding me closer than ever, kissing me whenever he gets the chance to, and the noises and whimpers havenʼt stopped. It spurs me, the collision of our bodies growing ever-faster as he cries my name and begs me not to stop. I wonʼt, I canʼt, itʼs all too good and Iʼm chasing a high that I find myself soon riding out onto him. Now, Iʼll be the one saying his name, his real name.
“God, that sounds so good coming from you,ˮ He moans, “Iʼve never heard it sound so good.ˮ
“Hereʼs to many more.ˮ I stutter out between the motions weʼre making and the sounds accompanying. Heʼs less in control now, thrusting up to meet me and pushing me down to him. Heʼs made plenty of marks on me, from the hickeys littering my skin to the surefire bruising my hips will have from his grasp. I can only hope to either hide whatʼs visible or risk the teasing the pack will no doubt give us later.
“Please, take me all the way, Iʼll help you through it.ˮ He begs, kissing me again once Iʼve come down far enough. “Youʼve got this, baby, please?ˮ
No words, just a resolute nod, and his response is a repeated thanks. I push further, to the very end of him, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Good, baby- fuck , youʼre doing good, pretty girl. So good, so good for me. There you go.ˮ He kisses my burning skin, the devouring fire weʼve made together consuming us both as I shift around under his grasp. He doesnʼt force, only guides, and makes a rhythm for me to follow with sputtered curses abounding. “God, you feel so good. Does it feel good for you? Hurt?ˮ
“Only enough to make me want it more,ˮ I moan, letting my head drop to his shoulder. “F-fuck me.ˮ
“Is that a statement or a request?ˮ He doesnʼt wait for an answer as I slow, taking the lead and snapping up into me. Once, twice, I lose count. He seems to get lost, too, senseless mumbles and moans filling the jeep as my hand streaks the fogged window. Heʼs entirely filled me up, and I want for nothing more than to go until I canʼt anymore.
He guards my head when I raise back up, making sure I wonʼt hit the roof again, and when it starts to rain in the secluded forest weʼve hidden ourselves in, itʼs not the only thing sending waves crashing down around us. Another thing I lose count of - heʼs far too good at this, and I tell him so.
“Been thinkinʼ about this for a while, so that counts as practice, yeah?ˮ The sweat sticks a bit of his hair to his forehead, and he looks about ready to tire out.
“You losing steam on me?ˮ I tease, brushing his hair back.
“Hell, no!ˮ He groans when I move my hips, sat bottomed out but doing nothing else. “Iʼm pretty close, thatʼs all. But when Iʼm done with you here Iʼm not done with you for the night, if youʼre willing.ˮ
“Well, if youʼre close…ˮ My lips curl deviously, and I bring myself back to the pace and movement that had had him howling earlier. Heʼs back to it in an instant, but his whines are more pronounced, drug out.
“Fuck, please, please donʼt stop-ˮ
“Gonna cum for me?ˮ
“Y-yes, yes-ˮ
“Good.ˮ Itʼs like a growl from me, and his cries only grow from it, until Iʼm sure at least anyone with supernatural hearing can catch onto us if theyʼre anywhere near.
“Oh- Oh, my god, Iʼm gonna-ˮ Stiles holds me tight, the most animalistic noise of it all loosing from his lips as he loads the condom full inside me. Weʼre hot, sweaty, and as close together as we possibly can be, but he still pulls me closer, taking a deep, heavy breath.
“So…how was I?ˮ
His laugh is quick, choked.
“Are you serious? Fuck, that was amazing. Iʼd just as soon do it again, but Iʼm…a little depleted at the moment.ˮ He eyes where we meet with an eyebrow wiggle. “Hey, we just had sex.ˮ
“That we did.ˮ I laugh.
“You and me, best friends. Just had sex. Well, we might wanna rethink that whole just best friends idea, huh?ˮ He kisses my cheek, letting out a content sigh. “No rush on that, Iʼm just talking. You know how I get. Just…excited that this happened. That it is happening. And…Iʼd be okay with calling you something more than my best friend. If youʼre into that.ˮ
“Very much into that.ˮ
“So…girlfriend?ˮ
“Shit, I was gonna say fiancee or wife. Or soulmate.ˮ
His eyes bug for a moment, then he starts to laugh.
“Youʼre fuckinʼ with me. Youʼre hilarious. Alright, girlfriend-future-fiancee-wife-soulmate-whatever-you-want, howʼs that sound?ˮ
“A little long, if Iʼm being honest.ˮ
“Long didnʼt seem to bother you just a moment ago.ˮ
“Mieczyslaw!ˮ
“Still sounds beautiful cominʼ from you. Like…ˮ He catches my glare, and smirks. “Nevermind. Letʼs get this cleaned up and head back, huh? Thereʼs a pizza about to be made with our names on it.ˮ
161 notes · View notes
miguelschamp · 4 months
Text
paper rings
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pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!reader
summary: stiles can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you
warnings: none
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it was your 11th birthday and you were beyond excited.
your mom had been planning your party for weeks. making sure the theme you wanted was going to be perfect. she invited all of your friends from school, including your two best friends, scott and stiles.
you met scott and stiles in 2nd grade. you tripped and fell onto the wood chips as you were running toward the swing set. as tears blurred your eyes, you heard rapid footsteps coming toward you.
two boys bent down beside you and asked if you were okay before scott ran off to find a teacher. stiles stayed by your side reassuring you that you were okay. and from then on, you guys were friends.
you came down the steps in a pink dress covered in flowers. your hair done and jewelry littering your arms and hands. your mom smiled as you came down the steps.
“scott and stiles are here.” you say running toward the door
“how do you know ?”
“i saw them through my window.” you say swinging the door open. a smile spreads across your features as your friends walk toward the door. you run out towards them as your mom walks out onto the porch.
“happy birthday !” they say as you run toward them. you giggle as the three of you collide in a huge hug.
“thank you.” you smile pulling away. “today’s gonna be so much fun.”
“definitely.” scott says
“happy birthday, sweetie.” melissa says walking up behind the boys
“thank you, ms. melissa.” you beam. you feel your mom place her hand on your shoulder
“why don’t you guys go out back and play until everyone gets here ?” she says
you squeal as you and the boys run around to the backyard.
~
it was darker out now and your party in full swing. you’ve opened presents and had cake. now, everyone was mingling around until they decided to leave.
you had been up since early that morning and you were exhausted. you were running around all day and playing with your friends. ensuring that everyone felt included and was having fun.
now, you sat on a bench that you had in your backyard. everyone was running around in front of you and parents were laughing and enjoying each other’s company.
you look to your left as someone walks toward you. you smile brightly, “hi, stiles.”
“hey.” he says sitting beside you, “are you okay ?”
“yeah.” you nod, “i’m just really tired. i was awake really early this morning.”
“oh, well you had fun today, right ?”
“of course.” you smile before you lay your head on his shoulder. he lays his head on top of yours as you sigh, “today was the best day ever.”
stiles smiles before taking a deep breath, “y/n/n, i have another present for you.”
you sit up, “really ? you didn’t have to. the teddy bear was more than enough.”
when opening your first gift from stiles, you couldn’t believe he had gotten you a bear you had been talking about for months now. your mom had been looking all over for it and couldn’t find it. but, of course, stiles did.
“well, i just wanted to get you something extra for being my best friend.” he says. you smile softly as he digs in his pocket.
he holds his hand out to you. in it was a ring made out of paper. the “diamond” was colored in to imitate the shininess.
“i made it because my dad wouldn’t let me get an actual ring.” he says as you take it from him.
“i love it.” you laugh. it truly was amazing considering an 11 year old boy made it. as you slid it onto your ring finger you held your hand out to him.
“perfect.” he says, “maybe one day i can get you an actual one.”
you smile at him before wrapping your arms around his neck. he quickly hugs you back with a small smile on his face.
•••
you and stiles laid back against his jeep on the outlook of beacon hills. the sun was setting and stiles always made it his mission for the two of you to catch it since you once brought up how you loved them.
it was something that he’s tried doing since the two of you started dating. you guys had been dating for 3 years now. since freshman year of high school and the two of you couldn’t be happier.
your 4 year anniversary was coming up and stiles had something up his sleeve. the ring he gave you for your 11th birthday held significance for the both of you. he remembers you actually wearing and taking care of the ring for a couple of weeks before the “band” ripped.
you were devastated and thought stiles would’ve hated you for ruining his gift. safe to say he wasn’t and was actually shocked at how long the ring lasted.
so, you kept the ring in the box with the other jewelry you were collecting. it now sat in the back of your phone case. it was squished now, but it didn’t matter. it was your favorite.
you watch as he sits up before looking over at you. “yes ?” you say in a sing song voice
“i have a present for you.” he says. you furrow your brows as you sit up.
“okay.” you ask, “wait, our anniversary isn’t for a few months.”
“i know, but i couldn’t keep it from you anymore.” he chuckles as you smile, “y/n, you are the most amazing person i’ve ever met. you mean the world to me and going into senior year, i just want you to know how much i love you. i don’t think scott and i would’ve made it this far with our heads still on our shoulders without you. especially me.”
you laugh as tears behind to gather in your eyes. he lays his hand on your thigh, “you remember the ring i gave you for your birthday.”
you nod as you pull out your phone turning it over. showing off the old gift. “yeah.”
he says nothing as he digs in his pocket pulling out a box. you place your phone down as he holds it out to you. “stiles.”
“open it.” he says as you take it. he watches in anticipation as you open the box. you gasp as you see a shiny ring with a small diamond in the center.
“stiles.” you say softly. you turn to him as he smiles.
“that’s what the paper ring was supposed to look like.” he jokes
he gently takes the box from you. he takes the ring out before grabbing your left hand. he slides the ring onto your ring finger.
“it’s a promise ring.” he says as he rubs your knuckles, “for now until i can replace it.”
you look up at him as a tear falls onto your cheek. he takes no time in wiping it away before cupping your cheek.
“i love you so much.” you say as you sniffle
“i love you more.” he says before leaning in and kissing you gently.
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shadowlali · 9 months
Text
pure temptation
COD - Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader
[18+] wc: ~2.1 k summary: Coronel Alejandro Vargas cannot resist the mayor’s daughter masterlist
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warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N, Alejandro is taller and can pick reader up, reader has long hair but other than that no other physical descriptions, some proofreading, age gap (f!reader in her 20s and Alejandro is in his 40s), oral (f! and m! receiving), slight spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
The one temptation Alejandro tries to deny himself is you. He knows it's wrong to feel a deep need for the mayor’s daughter. While Los Vaqueros don’t need permission from your father to operate within Las Almas, there is still a respected alliance.
How would it look if he's caught with the mayor’s daughter? Alejandro is older, with enough responsibilities to keep him occupied. He can’t risk the scandal. But, has he not given so much of himself to this town? To the people? Alejandro deserves this. He deserves you. He's been alone for so long.  
You grew up in Las Almas. It's a place you're proud to call home, especially now. All the work done by Los Vaqueros to rid the place of El Sin Nombre has paid off.
-
You had never met them until the night of your father’s victory party at the plaza. That’s when you crossed paths with Coronel Alejandro Vargas. You were a little flustered when introduced to him. He was tall with broad shoulders and a self-assured presence. He wasn’t like anyone you’d met before. When he leaned in for a hug and a kiss on your cheek, he lingered a little longer than what was considered polite.
You didn’t miss the way his hand slowly slid away from your lower back, as if he didn’t want to let go. It was difficult not to steal glances at him throughout the night. You imagined those arms of his being able to hold you up while losing himself completely in your body. 
-
You’ve been so good your entire life. The perfect daughter, friend, neighbor – whatever it is, you are. Your dad never lets you out of his sight, claiming it's for your own good. None of the men in Las Almas are good enough for his daughter, according to him. You're tired of sneaking around with boys who don’t know how to please you.
Coronel Alejandro Vargas looks like he knows exactly how to please your needy body. Your father would pop a blood vessel if he found out you're attracted to Alejandro. That isn’t going to stop you.
It's not hard to figure out the schedule of Los Vaqueros’ weekly runs into town for supplies. Your sundress is short and flowy, reaching the top of your thighs. You walk over to the local store, hoping to catch Alejandro before they leave. As you round the corner, a hard body collides with you. 
“Careful, muñeca,” a deep voice says as firm hands wrap around your waist. [doll]
You look up to see Coronel Alejandro Vargas staring down at you, an amused expression on his face. He makes sure you're balanced before letting go. 
“Sorry Ale— I mean, Coronel,” you respond, your skin tingling. 
“It’s alright, you can call me Alejandro.” 
You smile,” Okay. It’s nice to see you again, Alejandro.” 
“Where’s your father? Did you come here by yourself?” He asks, concern etching his eyes.
“He’s in a meeting. And yes, I’m here by myself.” You give him one last bright smile before walking around him and into the store. 
Through the store windows you can see him speaking to a few of his soldiers. You watch as he takes a few steps towards one of the Jeeps then walks towards the store entrance, and back again. He looks conflicted.
You wonder what he's thinking until you see him motion the soldiers into one car, leaving the other to himself. Finally alone, Alejandro leans against his Jeep, face in deep concentration. You ignore Alejandro as you exit the store and keep walking towards the direction of your house. A few long strides later and he catches up to you. 
“Muñeca, I think it's best I take you home. It’s too dangerous for you to walk these streets.” 
“I appreciate it Alejandro, but I think I’ll be okay. You took out all the threats, remember?” you tease. 
“Not all of them, let me take you home,” he said as he reaches for your grocery bags. 
It only takes him a few minutes to arrive at your house. Your heart races once you notice both of your parents still aren’t home. 
“Thank you so much for the ride, Ale. Can I thank you with a cup of coffee?” You ask, your fingers lightly brushing his arm resting on the center console. 
There's no mistaking what you're implying by that question. Alejandro glances at your fingers tracing a pattern on his skin before looking into your eyes. It only takes him a few seconds to answer. 
“Yes.” 
You've just closed the front door and placed down the grocery bags before he presses you against it, his hard body molding perfectly to yours. 
“How long until your parents are home?” 
“Two hours maybe?” you manage to breathe out. 
“Just enough time then.”
Your heart races,” For what?” 
“Do you trust me?”
You pause for only a moment, nodding quickly. ”Yes, I do.”
Alejandro’s hands run up your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reaches for your chin with one hand and gently tilts it up while his other hand presses against your rib cage to keep you against the door. You're dazed with want until he finally presses his lips on yours.
You’ve finally gotten your wish. He's here, in the privacy of your home, devouring your mouth like he wants to commit the shape into his memory. You part your lips and flick your tongue on his.
Alejandro moves to grip your throat, his tongue becoming rough but his hand holding your neck so softly. Your hands can feel his defined muscles while you rub up and down his chest. He breaks away and presses your hands to the bottom of your dress. 
“Lift it up.” 
Your head feels heavy but you manage to lift the dress right above your panties. He stops your hands and traces the seam of the silk material with his long fingers.
You feel heat between your thighs, wanting Alejandro to alleviate the ache. Alejandro’s fingers move the silk to the side to tease your slick entrance. 
“Will you let me taste this pretty pussy?” 
“Please, oh God.” 
Alejandro drops to his knees while warm hands slide up your thighs to remove your panties. He groans once he sees how wet and luscious you are.
“Better than I imagined,” He whispers. 
Alejandro hooks your thigh around his shoulder and drags his nose on your inner thighs. He licks up the stickiness from your folds before lapping at your entrance in rough strokes. You begin to rotate your hips in small circles, wanting his tongue anywhere and everywhere. Alejandro’s firm tongue thrusts into your tiny hole, making you cry out in surprise.
Your hips move faster to rub your swollen clit on his long nose. Your hands grip your dress tightly, desperately wanting to run them through his hair. He eats like he's starving. Alejandro comes up for air before quickly lapping at your clit. His moans of pleasure vibrate against you. 
“Dios, Ale!” 
Alejandro’s tongue swipes up to flick repeatedly on your clit. He keeps the same pattern, sucking the sensitive bud or thrusting his tongue inside of you. Your legs tremble from the pleasure but you manage to find the strength to hold yourself up.
Your hips speed up their movement, grinding on his nose. He can’t resist spanking your ass, loving the way it recoils back into his palm. The air catches in your lungs, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Alejandro once again fuses his mouth to your clit and begins to give light bites and licks.
The delicious pain mixed with the sweet movement of his tongue is too much for you. Your body tenses from the rippling sensations of your orgasm. He groans, his tongue quickly lapping at your entrance once you began to gush. It feels like an eternity until your body stops shuddering.
Alejandro catches you by the waist as he stands up. “¿Estás bien, muñequita?” [Are you okay, little doll?]
You breathe in deep for a few moments before responding, “Yes Ale, fuck. That felt amazing.” 
Your hands tug his hair to bring him close, your lips pressing firmly on his. He's quick to slide his tongue over yours, having you taste your sweetness. You savour the wetness clinging to his mouth and chin, shivering from the obscenity of it all.
Alejandro picks you up, wraps your thighs around his waist and has you lead him to your room. You can feel his hard cock press against your naked pussy as you grind on him. Once inside the bedroom, you make him sit on the edge of the bed, your mouth watering for a taste of him.
You drop down to your knees and unbuckle his pants, getting nervous from the size. Alejandro’s cock is warm and hard between your palms, his slit dripping salty precum. He groans from the licks and kisses you give, starting at the base to the tip of his cock.
You take a deep breath and swallow as much as you can, one of your hands stroking the length you can’t reach. Each suck causes you to hollow your cheeks as tears gather in your eyes from the tight fit in your throat. His hands run through your hair, gathering it at the top of your head to be able to see your face. 
“Muñeca, that feels – fuck. Don’t stop.”
You know he wants nothing more than to fuck your throat from how tightly he holds your hair and how hard his thighs are clenched. Your scalp tingles slightly from his grip and your throat works hard to accommodate the size of him.
He tastes clean and warm and indecent. How would people react if they saw the mayor’s perfect daughter on her knees sucking off Coronel Alejandro Vargas? The sounds of need that come from him only encourage you to suck faster. Alejandro pulls you off a few seconds later, your lips wet with saliva. 
“Enough, I want you on the bed.” 
Alejandro helps you take off the sundress, palming your tits in his hands. You climb on the bed while he takes off the rest of his clothes. He grabs your hips and brings you right at the edge of the bed, the perfect height for his waist. He spreads your thighs wide and lightly slaps his cock on your clit. You cry from the motion and move to grip the sheets. 
“¿Lo quieres, muñeca?” [You want it, doll?] 
“Sí, Ale.” 
Alejandro drags his tip from your clit to your entrance, gathering your wetness to sink inside of you. Your back arches the moment you feel him slide all the way in, so long and thick. 
“Bella,” he groans, voice thick with lust. [Beautiful.]
He keeps one hand on your tits, alternating between squeezing and pinching your nipples. He sets a pace, using his grip on your thigh as leverage. Every slide, in and out, in and out, stretches you perfectly. He reaches so deep inside of you, making you feel intoxicated from lust.
The slight sting from the stretch of his cock only adds to your pleasure. You trail one hand down your stomach to reach and feel where Alejandro pounds into you. It's incredibly hot and sticky. He moves his hand from your chest, over your fingers to play with your clit in small circles. You shiver from the sensation, clenching tightly around him.
He gives a rough, sloppy thrust and stretches your thigh out even more. You can’t even recognize your own voice, your gasps and whimpers sounding so desperate. Alejandro moves his hand, gripping your thighs to drag his cock out completely before pounding back inside of you. You replace his hand, rubbing your clit in fast circles, tits jiggling with the force of his thrusts. 
“Feel so fucking perfect,” he grunts. “I want you to come. I’m – i’m so close.” 
His hips slap roughly against your thighs, his fingers moving yours away to play with your swollen clit. It doesn’t take long for you to shatter completely from another orgasm, tightening around him in waves and squirting all over your joined lower bodies.
Alejandro’s voice is raspy as he comes, filling you completely. He doesn’t stop his thrusts right away, wanting to mark you from the inside until you're stuffed. His sweaty body joins you on the bed at last, your bodies limp from the pleasure. 
“Dios,” he starts, ”I never imagined it would be like that.” 
You turn to look at him, a lazy smile on your lips. “I didn’t either.” 
You both continue to lay in bed, petting and kissing every inch of each other’s bodies. After a while he reluctantly gets up to leave, promising to see you soon. 
“Maybe you can show me around the base, Alejandro?” 
“Sí, I think you’d like it.” 
Alejandro gives you one more long, tempting kiss before walking out the door. You know you’ll see him again very soon.
837 notes · View notes
fanficwritersworld · 1 year
Text
The Way He Looks At Her
Summary: You can never say no to your best friend
Pairing: Eli Hale x McCall!Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: FLUFFF
A/N: Derek doesn't die in any teen wolf imagines of mine. Stydia is strong and so is Thiam. Hikari gets justice and so does Kira
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"No!"
Eli pouted at you with his brown eyes, hands clasped together ready to go on his knees. You bit the inside of your lip, crossing your arms at him. "Please N/N, just this once?" Eli squeaked at you.
"You said that the first time and we both got grounded. I'm not pissing off my grandma again. I just got ungrounded" You reminded him, turning to leave the auto shop. Eli grabbed your arm, stopping you.
"I swear if we get caught I'll take the fall" Eli promised you looking you dead in the eye. You closed your eyes before letting out a sigh. "I swear Hale you're gonna be the death of me" You caved in.
Eli jumped before pulling you into a hug. "You are not gonna regret this" He smiled kissing your cheek then racing out the door. You stood there for a moment, in total shock.
"N/N! You coming!" Eli called, stopping you from overthinking the gesture.
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You bopped your head to the music as Eli drove you two on the empty road. You stared at the scenery, never seeing Beacon Hills like this. Usually, your Dad would drive you out on his motorcycle so this luxury wasn't always given. With the window down, you closed your eyes listening to the many sounds Beacon Hills had to offer.
Eli looked at you as if you were an angel sent from above. You seemed so relaxed as your hair gently moved with the wind. Your head rested against the jeep as you used it to hold your head.
Your peaceful drive was halted with the sound of tires bursting caught your attention before the jeep stopped. Eli looked at you with shocked eyes. 'Dads' you mouthes before the two of you exit the jeep.
You immediately noticed your father's cycle. 'Oh crap' you thought before walking up behind Eli. With their claws out, Scott McCall and Derek Hale stood before the teens. "We're not paying for those" Eli stated, subconsciously grabbing your hand.
"Yes, you are" Derek told him as he retracted his claws. Scott nodded in agreement as he gave you a pointed stare. "Okay, just don't be mad at N/N, I made her come with me" Eli pleaded with his godfather.
You looked down with a blush on your face. You focused on your hands intertwined before your father called you. You gave Eli a small smile before walking towards your Dad. "We'll take later" He told you/
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You huffed as you closed your door. Ground for two weeks, just great. You're gonna miss the big lacrosse tournament. You didn't play but you liked to support Eli.
Eli.
Why the fuck did he have to hold your hand? Or kiss your cheek. Why did he take the fall for both of you stealing the jeep? Why is he trying to climb in your window?
You took a double take before realising that your friend was outside your window, struggling to move from the tree to the ledge. You quickly opened the window, stretching out your hand. He quickly grasped onto your hand before he fell through your window, causing both of you to fall to the floor.
Eli stared down at you with his adorable brown eyes, a light blush painted on his cheeks. "Hey" He chuckled, his warm breath making you blush harder than him. "Hey" You answer back, unsure what to say.
After a moment, Eli moved back allowing you to sit up. "You know my Dad is downstairs" You stated, still feeling the heat on your face. "He left like ten minutes ago while you were pouting" Eli smirked at you. You punched his shoulder playfully, your eyes glowing yellow for a moment.
"I do not pout!" You huffed at him. "Yes you do" Eli laughed as you unknowingly were pouting at him. You quickly changed your face to a dramatic scowl. "No I don't"
You defended, stepping close to Eli.
“Yes, you do!” "No, I don't"
Another step forward
“Yes, you do!” "No, I don't"
Another step forward
“Yes, you do!” "No, I don't"
This time there was little to no space between you. His nose was brushing the bridge of yours. Screw puberty. Eli grinned as his hair tickled your skin. “You, Y/N McCall mostly definitely pout” Eli stated like a fact straight from a book. “No, Elijah Hale I most definitely do not” You stated back closing the small space between you. Eli’s eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips for a moment. “I can prove it” He told you.
You raised your eyebrow at him. “Really?” You asked him a small smirk on your face. “Yeah” He smirked back. Eli placed his lips on yours, his fingers gently brushing your jawline. You felt lightheaded until you felt him start pulling back. Instinctively you growled, grabbing his flannel and pulling him closer.
Your lips moved against his as you felt a familiar rush of power. Eli’s hands were softly placed on your cheeks, trying to keep you as close as possible. Soon enough, you both pulled back for air. Eli watched as your yellow eyes returned to their normal colour. He looked at you like you were the only person who mattered in the whole world. “You still pout though” He whispered with a cheeky grin. You rolled your eyes at him before your eyes glowed again. “Shut up” You warned him.
“Make me” He pushed before crashing his lips against yours once more.
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You and Eli sat on your bed, cuddled up as Star Wars played on your laptop. Your head rested on his collarbone as one hand fidgeted with one of his. Eli rested his chin on your head, listening to your heartbeat instead of the movie. You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. “Eli?” You whispered, catching his attention. “Yeah?” He answered back looking down at you. You sat up turning to face him. “Show me” You demanded him.
“What?” He asked you, confused by your question. “Your eyes, show me them” You explained, allowing your own to glow. Eli hesitated but did the same, watching as you let out a soft smile. “Why do you want to see my eyes?” He asked you. “Because I wanted you to know that when I look at you, I don’t see a Hale werewolf” You told him. “What do you see?” Eli asked her.
“I see a boy who never lets me fall, never makes me sad, who is definitely leaving high school with a grand theft auto charge and the boy who makes me feel a love I never felt before” You smiled at him. Eli was quick to kiss you gently.
“I love you” He whispered.
“I love you too”
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iwanty0uu · 4 months
Text
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❄︎ all characters are 19+ y/n being 20, second female character being 19, and male character being 21, contains swearing and mentions of violence ❄︎
click me!
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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏...
Jada kingdom blasted through the speakers of your car, you got off early from work deciding that you would surprise your boyfriend with his favorite, KFC, a movie and some Chic-fil-A for yourself. It was snowy and you were hype, snow was either non-existent or did to much when it came to New York, so the slush of the ice below the tires of your car reminded you of how lucky you were to have a light snowy winter, just in time for the new year. The only problem was, as you parked your jeep already walking towards his door,his keys linked to the ones for your car, the door didn’t unlock.The locks were changed. 
Strange.
You put aside your immediate anger for this man and taught yourself patience, so it took you a while to figure out how you wanted to react to this, the rock next to his doormat and the key that is usually under it posing as the devil and angel on your shoulder. You could either fuck his shit all the way up, or invite yourself in, but there was no key to your surprise.. dusting the snow off of your uggs and hands,adjusting your light blue bodysuit and white puffer jacket. You adjusted your small white beanie with a sigh.You completely understood what this meant.
The bitch is a cheater.
Being rational wasn’t your thing but neither was being dumb. You honked your car horn a couple of times and watched his windows, seeing the silhouette of a long skinny leg, with toes painted black, and an anklet resembling the one he gave you for Valentine’s Day…You heard the door knob shuffle, and wondered if your hearing deceived you because the front door remained still, and to your surprise he attempted to sneak the girl out of the back door which was diagonal from your jeep that you sat alerted in; door still open and legs hanging out, making eye contact with her as she mumbled something to herself.
Now, you didn’t expect your intuition to be spot on like this, in fact you hoped he had just changed his locks because something happened and he forgot to mention it to you.
“Shit” she said holding her head down covering her face with her gloved hands in shame, she knew she had wronged you and it took you a second to realize who it was, until her slimmer familiar figure approached the side walk, and stood in-front of you.
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“Bro why is she talking to her…”
He questioned as he paced around his living room, grimacing as he rubbed his hands with his face. He was still shirtless, pajama-pants hanging off oh his thick and muscular pelvis which revealed his recently trimmed happy trail, you could tell he liked what he did by how hard his dick was…He claimed you were his first love, took your virginity and loved you like no one else, but still fucked someone you trusted with your whole life, the future godmother of your kids even.He fucked up the best thing in his life.
What a dumbass.
Your eyes widened with shock as she profusely apologized without any pause, ”Y/n I’m so sorry I know he’s your boyfriend and stuff but I couldn’t help it and he left his jacket in Sasha’s car and I was close to his house and I am so so sorry I know you would never do something like this to me and you’ve took care of me my whole life and-“
Tears couldn’t help but welt in your eyes as the snow on your now damp lashes made them all the more sensitive…no word could describe how you felt, the hatred and heartbreak made your nose flush with even more red considering it was already colder than jack frost’s balls outside, you couldn’t keep it together and you wanted to do nothing but ruin her life after you realized..
“ONYANKOPON YOU’RE FUCKING MY LITTLE SISTER?”
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1whore1gang · 6 months
Text
it’s the little things🤍
hey y’all! this is part 6!!
catch up HERE
sorry this took so long to get out to y’all, been working like crazy and had some writers block, BUT IM HERE TO FEED YALL
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT
MDNI!!!
Taglist: @gaymistakeboi@batw3nch@thedevillovesflowers@almightywdm@ghostslittlegf@sketchyfandomgirl@under-the-dirt@clear-your-mind-and-dream@darkangel4121@vreselia@llemes @stargaliz @rockcollector3000 @nottrosaxx
as always please yell at me if i forgot you!
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You lay in your cot, your body aching from the long days of hard work. You had just gotten back from a shift, your phone ringing as your back hit the fabric. You had super shotty service, so a call coming throigh was a miracle.
“Hey baby, I hope you’re well.” You swiped to answer the call. It was your John.
“Hey honey, just tired as hell.” You chuckled a little as you laid on your side, placing your phone next to you.
“I know you don’t have much time to talk and need your rest but I wanted to not only hear your voice but let you know I met the babysitter today. She cleared the background check and she loves the boys.” You could hear his smile in his voice.
“That’s good.” You replied, your eyes closed as you felt your body relax to his voice.
“She’s young, 19. She’s a spritey thing, lots of energy. She’s bubbly and super great with the boys. Her name is Tia. I think she’ll be good for them, be able to keep up.” He sounded excited, and you were happy he’d found a girl you could trust to watch the boys.
“I’m glad babe, hopefully they don’t chase her away. How much is she charging? Is she staying on base?”
He chuckled, “I’m paying her so don’t you worry about the money doll, as for her, she’s staying in my room. I’m giving my room a deep clean and washing my sheets before I leave.”
“She’s sleeping in your bed?” You opened your eyes at this and propped yourself up on your elbow.
“Yeah, comfier than the couch.” He said it so casually, but it somewhat bothered you that some babysitter was sleeping in his bed before you were. Yes, you chose not to, but it still bothered you, the idea of a much younger woman sleeping in his sheets, using his room for herself. “Baby?”
His voice broke you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, but the couch isn’t too bad. I’ve been sleeping on it. I would prefer it over my current situation.” You heard John laugh a little.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be out there before you know it, I’ll make sure you stay comfy and get rested. Tia though-“ He continued to ramble on about how Tia did with the boys and what he thought of her. He spoke about how she’s coming again so he can give her a rundown on everything she’ll need to know, and make sure she doesn’t have any questions. He said he’s going to spend the day with her and the boys so she can get acquainted.
It bothered you a bit. You knew deep down it was nothing, John wouldn’t sleep with a 19 year old, nor would he cheat on you. Right?
“But, I’ll let you go my love, get some rest. I’ll see you in 4 days.” You big your goodbyes as he hung up.
You quickly fell into a deep sleep.
“Lieutenant! Get your ass up and get to your post!!” You woke up to Captain Snyder’s voice booming. “You’ve got 20 minutes until your shift, get moving.”
“Yes sir.” Your voice was hoarse as you arose from the rough cot and threw on the missing pieces of your uniform you didn’t sleep in. Your eyes were heavy as you hobbled to your post, taking the jeep to the embassy.
You noticed your soldiers were in a similar state? you were all starving and restless. Some soldiers had been sent home because of their sickness, being considered critical. You did your best not to push your squad, letting them take breaks and rest up, but more and more were falling ill, including yourself.
Unfortunately, being the leader, you weren’t allowed to go take a break or go rest up to feel healthy. You had to push through and manage, and that had caused you to become a shell of yourself. You had continued to lose weight, lose energy and motivation, even feeling i’ll yourself. You weren’t able to eat from lack of appetite, anything you ate came back up within an hour.
You felt like death, and you were scared for John to see you this way, but he was bringing backup to replace the soldiers who had been rushed to hospitals.
At night while you were watching transports, you dreamed of him getting off that plane, the way his arms would save you from the trouble you’d endured here.
The worst part of this mission though? Captain Snyders team was completely fine. They were all healthy, rested and none of them had fallen ill. They weren’t being pushed like your squad.
There was something fishy here and you couldn’t put your finger on it. You didn’t have the energy to even put thought into it.
You were so close to John’s arrival, only 36 hours until he arrived. You were on duty when you were checking someone into the embassy and you felt your field of vision turn black. You grabbed into Private Frag next to you as you felt yourself begin to collapse.
You woke up 32 hours later. Captain Snyder was in the med tent with you and the nurse. He looked pissed. “Lieutenant, nice of you to join us. What the hell were you thinking?! You have a crew to take care of!”
“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been feeling myself lately.” Your voice came out so quietly, your voice lost somewhere.
“No excuses L.T. You’re here because I recommended you. Your commendable leadership in previous missions was what got you here. Your behavior on this mission has been unacceptable, and therefore you’ve been sentenced to 24 hour duty. You will watch the embassy starting tomorrow at noon, and finishing the following day at noon with no breaks.” You felt your breath catch, there was no way he expected you to do that in your condition. You could barely speak! Barely move!
“Sir, I don’t mean to talk back but-“
“Then don’t speak.” You felt the feeling of crying, but no tears came due to your dehydration. “You are allowed the rest of today to rest, but I want to see you well and alive tomorrow at noon at the embassy’s back entrance to begin your shift. Now, if you excuse me I have to go welcome to incoming squad and Captain Price.”
You sighed at his name, your John was here. You began to breath unevenly, emotion taking over you, but you were too tired to cry. “Sir, if I could just-“
“No Lieutenant. You will not speak any longer. You are to remain silent when I am in your presence. I do not want anymore inexcusable behavior from you and if there is, I will be forced to punish you accordingly.” He was stern as he threw his cap on and exited the tent.
You felt helpless as the nurse shushed you and began to administer more fluids into your IV and tried to give you some food.
A couple of hours later, you were up and walking. You were hardly doing it, but the nurse needed the bed for a soldier who had gotten a stomach parasite while in the desert. You were on your way back to your tent when you saw Captain Snyder.
His cocky smirk made your stomach sink. “Lieutenant! I see your back to your normal self!” He landed a hard pat to your shoulder, making you nearly topple over.
“Sir, please, I really need a couple of days to recover, I’m not well.” You looked up at him with your droopy, sunken in eyes.
He laughed. “You think I’m going to allow you that? I am your superior and you are going to listen to me. You answer to me and take orders from me. If I tell you you’re fine and to fulfill your 24 hour tomorrow, that’s what you do. Clear?”
“Captain, sir, please-“
“I said clear?!” His voice echoed as he shouted in your face, his grip tight on your upper arm.
“Sir-“
“I’m sorry.” You heard a cocky voice fill your ears. “What did you just say?” It was a voice that began to fill your soul with life.
“Captain Price.” Snyder kept his grip on you as he turned. “I was just telling my Lieutenant here-“
“Your Lieutenant?” John chuckled lowly as he slowly stepped closer, foot by foot.
“I am her Captain now, she takes her orders from me.” His grip tightened on you as he straightened himself to stand taller. You whimpered at the brusing grip of his fingers digging into your skin.
John’s laugh brought your eyes up to him. Your knees about gave out at the sight of him. He was in full uniform, his guns hanging from his hip, his boonie cap hanging low on his forehead. “Last time I checked Captain,” He spat the man’s title. “Her vest says 141, so does her file. That makes her my Lieutenant.” John cocked his head to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You are not apart of this mission Price.” Snyder kept his arm on you, almost like his bruises in your arm would claim you as his property.
“Get your hands off my officer before I lay mine on you.” John’s voice was a growl as he threatened Snyder. “Now.”
You felt the fingers dug into your arm slowly release as you wobbled, now standing on your own. You fully faced John, seeing him fully. His gaze softened at your state. “She will only ever take orders from me, her Captain. She will not take anything from your mouth. She is my Lieutenant, and will report to me and only me.” He gently grabbed you as he escorted you to your tent, leaving Captain Snyder speechless.
“Oh Y/N, my dear.” He set you on your cot, coming to sit with you, letting you lean against him. “What is happening here?”
You sniffled as you took in that homey scent of him. The sweet cologne mixed with cigar smoke. He was here, your John was here. “How’re the boys, I miss them.”
“Oh your voice-“ He began to draw circles into your back as he ran his hand through your hair, shushing you. “Don’t talk, save your energy to rest, love. I’m so sorry this is happening.”
You look up at him, staring into his eyes. “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t hesitate to follow your instructions. His lips meet yours briefly, yet the kiss was so full of love and care. “Darling…”
“John?” You said.
“Yes dear?”
“What was that out there?”
“What was what?” He cocked his head, raising his eyebrows as he stared down at you.
“Your Lieutenant?” You smirked, kissing him again.
“You are mine. That man has no right to talk to you that way. Only I can boss you around, only I can order you around. You’re mine.” His eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice a low growl.
“John?” You cooed.
“Yes Y/N?” His eyes were hooded as he looked at you.
“Make me yours.” John flinched forward to kiss you but quickly stopped. “John?”
“I don’t wanna break you. You’re so pretty and you don’t feel well.” His hand caressed your cheek.
“I don’t care, wreck me.”
John’s whole demeanor changed as he roughly captured your lips with his, his hands groping around your body, holding on tightly.
“Look at ya, all needy for me.” John’s voice ran shivers up your spine as his breath tickled against your neck.
His lips left marks all over your neck as he began to rid you of your shirt. “Lemme see ya-“
“John-“ His eyes met yours as you began to breath quicker in anticipation. He looked at you as you nodded and he quickly left you without a shirt or bra.
His hands massaged your breasts as his mouth took home on one of your nipples, sucking and playing with it. His gums of satisfaction caused sparks through your nerves. You let out a few quiet moans, and at that he made it his job to bring more out of you.
He loved that sound and wanted to drink it in, hearing it over and over. You put your hand in his hair as he continue to give your breasts attention, but you needed him elsewhere. You took his wrist in your other hand as you let it to your center. “John, please.” You begged.
His eyes were blown out as he looked up at you, practically ripping your pants off as he took his stance between your legs, his face inches from you. “You’re soaked baby.” Two of his fingers dragged through your folds. “All ready for me aren’t you?”
Those two fingers pressed inside of you, moving around, feeling the way you felt. John let out a moan at the feeling, beginning to scissor his fingers to stretch you out. “Gotta make you comfortable baby.” His fingers then pumped in and out of you slowly as his mouth latched into your clit.
You let out an unholy moan at the pressure. “John!” His name kept leaving your lips along with strings of curses.
“You gonna cum for me doll?” His voice had a hint of teasing to it, having you coming undone so quickly. “Do it, cum around my fingers, all over my mouth.”
And you did. His beard was coated with a glaze as he sat up and began to undo his belt. “Come here sweet thing.”
His thumb guided your chin as you sat up, mouth open and ready for him. “Mmm, that’s a sight.”
“I love you John.” You said with doe eyes, staring up at him from the edge of your cot.
“You’re gonna really love me in a minute baby.” He pulled his boxers down and freed his hard cock, it springing free in front of your eyes.
You stared as he pulled his pants all the way down and discarded his shirt. His cock was large, but it was beautiful. It had a vein running up the bottom of it, curving up slightly and his pink tip was shiny with precum. You licked your lips as your left hand rested on his thigh, your right wrapping around his base.
You heard his breath hitch at the contact and you looked up at him as you took him in your mouth, then locking a stripe up the bottom of his cock. “Fuck baby, yes.”
His hand came to dig into your hair to guide you along him, you sucking and pumping him to absolute ecstasy.
His groans were music to your ears. You continued to keep eye contact as he began to take control little by little. You felt his hand gently push against the back of your head as you took him deeper and deeper into your throat.
You could tell he wanted to fuck your mouth. You pulled off of him with a pop and brought his face close to yours. “John honey?”
“Yes?”
“Do it.” John let out the most gorgeous moan at your words as he stood back to his full height and tightly held your hair. He shoved his dick all the way to the back of your throat, causing a small gag to come out of you.
He was singing your praises as he stayed there. “That’s it baby, relax for me.” He spoke slowly, calmly.
Continuing to take deep breaths, your nose was buried in his hips until he moved, and he moved quickly. His pace was reckless and you could feel a bruise forming at the back of your mouth from his tip abusing it. The sounds and grunts coming out of him were dirty and it made you wet thinking about how his cock would feel inside of you.
Your hands squeezed his thighs as you felt him begin to stutter. “Fuck.”
He grabbed your shoulders as he lifted you up and bent you over the small desk in your tent, quickly shoving himself deep in your pussy. “So fucking tight, mm.”
He paused for a second, breathing through teeth. “Fuck baby, relax a little.”
His thumb rubbed your lower back as he felt you become more comfortable with his size. He bummed as he began to move, slow at first.
He grunted as his arms crossed, hands grabbing your hips to reinforce himself as his hips began to quickly snap against your ass. You were a moaning mess as his balls stimulated your clit. “Fuck! Yes!”
“Who do you belong to?” He said it between grunts and the question caused you to moan in response. “Who’s. Are. You.”
“Yours! I’m all yours John!!” You we’re shouting, the pleasure he was giving you was out of this world.
You felt the coil in your stomach tightening as he continued to plow into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You said, your legs beginning to shake.
“Cum for me darling.” A couple more thrusts and you were a mess under him, your hips were beginning to ache and your legs were jelly.
“I’m close.” He growled lowly, grunts pouring from his mouth as his hips moved sloppily. “In or out?”
You couldn’t even respond as he continued to wreck your insides. “Baby, I need to know.”
“In.”
John released as soon as the word left your mouth, filling you up. His pulled his cock out and quickly shoved two fingers in you, keeping his cum from leaking out. “Look at how pretty you look all fucked out.”
“John…” Your voice made him switch immediately, removing his fingers and swooping you up in his arms as he put you on your cot.
“I’ll be right back, I promise.” John kissed your forehead, leaving the tent.
You laid in the afterglow waiting for him to return, and when he did you began to tear up. He walked in with your favorite pajama pants and one of his hoodies and a towel.
He was dressed in his pajamas as well. He cleaned you up, helping you into the clothes he brought you. “I couldn’t come see my girl and not bring her something from home when I leave.”
He laid down behind you, your back against his chest as he pulled your hair into two braids, out of your face. “I really do love you John.”
“I love you too, and don’t let Snyder get to you. I will take care of it okay? You will be here resting as long as you need before you’re healthy again. I won’t let him mistreat you anymore. You’re my girl.”
You turned to look up at him as he planted a long kiss on your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
You kissed him again before settling in against his chest. “Thank you…”
“Always my love.”
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soulofapatrick · 1 year
Text
Not That Type of Crush - Stiles Stilinski
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Summary: You finally get tired of Lydia trying to set you up with girls when Stiles gets in on it
Words: 648
warnings: none I think
Y/N's POV
"You know Kira's had a crush on you since like forever, right?" Lydia tells me as we're sat at lunch.
"OH! Why don't we go on like a three way date?" Allison chimes in, "Scott and Lydia, Me and Isaac and you and Kira."
"No thank you, I'm okay," I brush off the uncomfortableness I always feel when Allison and Lydia try and get me to go on dates with some girls they know. Although Kira's part of the pack I'm not interesting in dating her or any girl in this school. I'm not interested in dating any girl. Full stop.
It took me a while to come to terms with the fact I don't really find girl attractive romantically. I can definitely confirm that they're attractive but I'm not attracted. Oh no, I found out pretty quickly after starting at Beacon Hills High that the guys at this school are very easy on the eyes.
Nearly all of them. Jackson... well, that's a different story. He and I quickly became best friends when he took me under his wing for some reason and introduced me to the pack after he found out I was a werefox.
Let's just say that as soon as I set eyes on one certain brunette who has a tendency to trip over flat surfaces, I was the one to fall. Oh man he was beautiful and I had to advert my gaze before Jackson caught on as Jackson, quite quickly became able to read me. The look that I got was enough for now: lean and attractive with moles scattered across his pale skin, brown hair messy and eyes a deep shade of cognac that made me weak at the knees. I had to grab Jackson's arm when Stiles smiled at me for the first time.
"Y/N?" Lydia kicks me lightly under the table, "Who's this mystery girl on your mind, huh?"
"No-one" I grumble, glaring at my empty sandwich wrapper and luckily for me, before Lydia can probe much more the bell cuts us off and I'm running to my next class to get away.
--------
"So, Lydia tells me you have a crush on a girl," Stiles pipes up at the end of the day as we're walking across the parking lot towards his famous jeep.
"No. I. Don't." I punctuate every word but my blush gives me away I think.
"You won't even tell me?" He pulls those stupid puppy dog eyes as we stop next to the jeep.
"Stiles!" I finally snap, pushing him against the side of the jeep as his plush and wet lips in that pout send me over the edge. Before I know what I'm doing I'm slamming my lips against his and kissing him, "It's you." I growl, knowing my eyes are probably glowing their werefox green as I pull away, the wild side of me just wanting to claim what is mine.
"Me?" He chokes out and I can't read his eyes like normal, causing me to step away but I don't get any more than one step away before he's grabbing my wrist, yanking me forwards and slamming me against the jeep this time, "You don't understand how long I have wanted to hear you say that." He whispers, lips ghosting mine before he finally kisses me and oh god it's better than I ever imagined. His lips are sweet from the strawberries he was eating last period and his hands are all over me, one tugging at my hair which elicits a small sound from me while the other grips my hip so tightly I hope it'll bruise.
"IT WAS STILES?!" Lydia's shriek has Stiles pulling away from me but not in an embarrassed way, just an interrupted way, "I THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER FIGURE IT OUT!"
"YOU KNEW?!" I yell back, causing Stiles to chuckle beside me, "DEAD TO ME!"
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