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rosie-writings · 2 months

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Hypnotize Me

Summary: You and the gang investigate a hotel haunted by a demon that influences people in ways none of you experienced before, making it the final push for Colby to solidify the relationship he always wanted with you.

Warnings: Colby x Reader smut, MFM (no Solby) threesome, unprotected sex, overstimulation, love bites, squirting, messy sex

Words: 7.6k

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘Hypnosis’ by Sleep Token

I was so damn tired.

The backpack met the thin floor with a thud that hung in the air. My eyes were too heavy to open fully, and maybe I led us all into the most haunted room—of course the largest suite as well—in the hotel, but I really couldn't care less.

“Oh—Wait this is actually nice,” Colby spoke first between the five of us. He brushed past me and walked into the room to our left.

”Wow it actually is,” I think Nate said as he rounded the corner. I don’t think my toes lifted off the roughened carpet as I dragged myself through the unrealistically large suite to find the bedroom. When I found it, I audibly moaned in relief.

”Holy shit! Maybe we didn’t need the second room, this bed is probably big enough to fit all of us.” Sam must have followed me with the camera but I ignored him as I face planted into the ivory linen sheets. They covered my peripherals, and my eyes rolled back in the suffocating darkness.

It was worth not checking for stains or bed bugs first.

Then there was a loud scuffle.

“Ah—! Jesus, I almost met god because of your backpack in the middle of the floor.” I huffed a breath in response; Colby must have tossed the backpack to the side of the bed but I didn’t flinch from the reverberation. Didn’t care that my laptop was in there at all.

Maybe I needed a shower; after two sleepless nights in a cold dangerous area proceeding a haunted hot as hell area, a shower and a dreamless night in the deepest cavern of this bed was first on my priority list.

Of course the boys had different plans. We were in the middle of our third video of the week. Thank god it was the last as well.

Between infiltrating an abandoned building outside of Portland to talking to whatever lurks in the woods of a small town somewhere in Texas, I was beat. Road kill, some would say, and dare I say I looked like it too. My hair was a mess and my nose was still red from the cold wind in the north but my neck was caked with old sweat from the humid heat of the faux winter in Texas. At least I could hear it in all of their voices too; this quickly became a midnight hunt rather than an afternoon hunt. If only we could get through this damn intro.

”—here she is, she's uh well—tired.” I lifted my head up slowly and looked up to see the camera and Sam’s tired eyes smiling down at me. “Don’t blame her; at least we all feel the way she looks.”

I flipped him off before he turned the camera towards himself.

”That was mean,” he laughed. I stuffed my face back in the now damp with sweat and hot breath duvet. “But fair. We’re going to rest this afternoon and after dinner, we have a meeting with one of the most skilled demonologists we’ve ever met.”

”Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’ve met one in every country we’ve filmed in,” Colby tagged on as I heard him approach Sam.

”Pretty soon we’ll be able to say we’ve met every demonologist—“

I don’t remember what the ending of Sam’s sentence entailed.

My eyes opened.

The room was dark besides the ambient orange light from the lamp beside the head of the bed. The curtains were shut. What time was it?

I lifted to my elbows but drew in a breath when I felt weight fall from me. I looked to my left and noticed how Colby rolled from his side to his back; his face turned away from me. He was knocked out. Was his arm across me as we slept?

Two nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night in the same situation except two bright eyes stared back at me. Even in the dim moonlight that shined through the broken ceiling of the abandoned building, his eyes glowed bright back at me. I told myself the only reason I fell back asleep in his arms was because I shivered my skin off from the chill. I felt his body shake as well which meant it must have been cold even with the sleeping bags. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been daydreaming about what his hands felt like on my back and what the warmth of his neck felt like on my face, my lips.

As I stretched on the bed and yawned as quietly as I could, I looked to my other side and I nearly choked myself half to death when Sam jumpscared me. He as well lay on his front with his head supported on his crossed arms. I didn’t know how I didn’t feel his side flush to mine. We slept in almost the same position.

My face burned when I pulled my leg off of Colby’s.

I slid backwards off the bed and popped my neck; my body ached from sleep uncomfortably. I was ready for a real sleep. Although, that nap did fare well. Nate slept on the other side of Sam and I smiled at the sight of his arm and leg wrapped around Sam’s body.

I snapped photos of them. For blackmail. Or, at this point, pure entertainment.

I grabbed my bag and headed into the bathroom. I held my breath for some reason as I turned on the light and nothing happened. It always crossed my mind that maybe—just maybe—everything was a lie and hauntings weren’t real because of evenings like this one. We all were zonked on the bed—aside for poor Seth who coiled up on one of them sofas in the main room across from the bedroom—and not a thing happened.

Then again I'm sure I could have time traveled during that nap and I wouldn't have known a thing.

The warm water almost lulled me to sleep then and there, but the chilly tiles kept a pep in my step. I wished I had this room to myself. I imagined it then; kicking the boys to the floor so I could have the largest bed I had ever seen all to my clean self.

I didn't do that.

By the time I was finished blow drying my hair and making myself as presentable as possible for the camera while keeping my future bed time routine simple, I heard commotion in the rest of the suite. I pulled a new pair of black jeans from my bag and pulled on a thermal long sleeve and a hoodie on top of it with rushing hands. What was the plan now?

“Yeah man, I have no idea.” I only caught the end of Colby’s gentle statement when I opened the door. His eyes found mine and I watched intently to find out what they were saying.

”Seth is still asleep,” he said.

”And Sam wants to be,” Sam spoke into Nate’s side. He held onto Nate and tried to curl into him comfortably, but Nate scooted away with every advance Sam made. I scoffed a laugh as I passed the pathetic three on the bed.

”And Nate wants to get this show on the road or else he won’t ever get up from this bed. Jesus, it’s damn comfortable.”

”It really is though,” Colby said.

”I don’t think the nap did anything for me even though it was really nice,” I admitted. Colby aimed his attention at me as I dropped my bags under the covered window on the side of the bed he sat on.

”Yeah, I’m really tired still as well.”

“Let’s get energy drinks and some food before we miss the meeting,” Sam said as he too yawned and stretched.

”Someone wake up Seth.”

”Oh right,” Nate laughed as he got up to do just that. “Can’t forget poor sleeping Seth.”

”He looks so cold,” Sam laughed.

”Not as cold as two nights ago.”

”Don’t remind me,” he moaned.

“We’re here with Dr. Smith; the renowned demonologist who’s especially familiar with all of the paranormal activity that’s happened here at this hotel,” Sam spoke to the camera.

As much as dinner was amazing fuel, as soon as we got back into the lobby of the hotel and started the meeting with Dr. Smith, my eyelids were heavy again. Sure, we missed two nights of restful sleep, but how tired was too tired?

A subtle flinch on my hand yanked my attention from the interview, and my eyes met Colby’s whose eyebrows rose with question. ‘I’m good,’ I nodded. ‘Tired,’ I mouthed and he nodded heavily with his eyes closed. His eyes were darker than I had seen them, and when I looked back in Nate’s direction, I noticed the distraction in his eyes.

Were we all truly this spent? We all had taken many trips with Sam and Colby through the years, and almost every week was filled with three or four high adrenaline videos to get done. The traveling mixed with the paranormal adrenaline and the unrestful sleep promised hazy days and many many energy drinks, but this? This was different.

”Seth—“ My attention was pulled by Sam’s voice.

”Shit I’m sorr—“

”It’s fine,” Dr. Smith said. “If you all don’t know, the main issue visitors have dealt with in this hotel is fatigue.” My stomach dropped. “The souls that make pit stops here often get trapped and are weary from living in purgatory in these walls.” Somehow a burst of energy coursed my veins at this insight; at least my suspicions weren’t too outlandish.

”This makes a lot of sense,” Colby sighed.

“We’re outrageously tired and took a three hour nap,” Sam laughed. Dr. Smith nodded.

”If it’s already affecting all of you this much, you might want to be careful when you go to the third floor then; people are known to pass out very frequently because of—well the things that live there.”

”Why—What’s on the third floor and why does it make people pass out?”

”We believe there is a demon who stays in this hotel, specifically the third floor, and it influences the spirits and human people who come. It doesn’t like to be alone, but it also doesn’t enjoy the company of people so it depletes energy quickly.”

”Almost like an omen for them to leave?” Sam questioned.

”Maybe,” Dr. Smith said as his head fell to the side with some disagreement.

”Or is it more so wanting something to do, like, does it enjoy messing with people or something?”

“I think that’s the case,” he responded as he pointed to Colby. “It might be bored and it may want human energy to feed on and manipulate.”

The way that Dr. Smith expressed the demon’s wants sent chills down my arms and it felt like hot air held my ears. Maybe this would be a long night, and maybe some decent activity would come of it.

Hopefully all this fatigue wasn’t for nothing.

”I’m still on edge about all of… this,” Seth said as his hands gestured to everything around us. We walked through the hotel with quiet voices and the camera filming on Sam’s side.

”Same, but what are you feeling?” Colby asked.

”I’m freaked out about how we all are equally feeling the demon’s effect already and we haven’t even tried to taunt it or anything.”

”I mean, it could just be because of our trip,” Nate spoke. The voice of reason. “We barely slept.”

”Yeah but all of us took long naps and we all feel like zombies even after the drinks.” No one argued that.

As we walked and talked and introduced the hotel to the camera, Colby made sure to keep up with my pace. I couldn’t decipher whether I imagined it or I was the one keeping up with him, but for some reason, all my attention honed in on him and his body and every motion it made.

And when we turned the corner and Sam quickly stopped in front of me, I halted in my steps and Colby’s body collided into mine. I held my breath so I wouldn’t gasp; we all were quiet. Seth had heard something and Sam whispered to the camera.

I backed up into him tighter when his hands that held onto my waist dug in deeper. His breath skipped some and he let go of me and passed me with a raised whisper when Sam asked him something. It took me a moment. A dazed moment. My tired brain was so overwhelmed with everything that suddenly I felt intoxicated. Intoxicated by the fatigue, intoxicated by the lack of effected air conditioning, intoxicated by Colby who seemed to also be unable to stop touching me and thinking about me—

What was going on?

I lagged behind the boys as they walked down the hallway. Colby turned to me. His eyes were dilated, face flushed, hand reached back towards me.

”Come on, don’t fall behind,” he whispered. I took his hand and didn’t say anything because I swore my heart replaced my vocal cords in my throat.

Even as it got hotter when we ventured to the second floor and even as the sheen of sweat in between our palms became more so a dripping pool, I didn’t let go of him. And he didn’t let go of me.

“Are you okay?” He whispered down to me. I nodded slowly.

”Yeah, just hot as fuck.”

”Are you good?” Sam’s louder voice caught my attention and I looked up. Nate spoke animatedly to Seth with a hand pointed down the hall and Sam had turned towards us. The camera was to his side.

”Yeah,” Colby answered for me. “We—It’s hot as hell and can barely stay awake.”

”I know,” Sam sighed breathlessly. Sweat too lined his face. “Dr. Smith did say that they have perpetual issues with the AC on the third floor, and even during the winter it gets this hot.”

”Couldn’t imagine the summer here,” Nate said as he spun into our conversation.

”I’m really wanting to get to the third floor to test some things out.”

”Like the Estes method?” Seth asked. Sam nodded quickly.

We were on our way and my heart burned in my chest. I gripped Colby’s hand tighter as my head rushed with more elevation. The elevator was slow but my pace was slower, and the fatigue gnawed at my bones.

”You’re not going to pass out are you?”

”No,” I shook my head. “I mean not yet at least.”

”Don’t worry,” Sam said. “We’ll catch you.”

”Shut the hell up,” I snapped as the elevator doors opened. Nate led the way. “Of all of us, I trust you to purposely miss me.”

”Yeah that’s only because Colby would have caught you before you even started to fall—“

Seth’s spiteful jeer was cut off by a loud bang at the end of the hallway. Sam and Nate rushed forward around the corner with the camera.

“There’s literally nothing,” I heard Sam’s whisper. I ignored the smirk on Seth’s face as he gave a look to Colby. We three turned the corner as well.

Nothing. An average looking empty hotel room shined back at us. Not even a member of housekeeping nor their supplies showed any kind of appearance.

“We’re in a hotel for fuck’s sake,” I whisper. “It could be a damn guest.”

”True,” Nate said. We slowly walked backwards.

”Alright,” Sam started and lifted the camera. Real filming time. “The demon’s known to be most responsive in the conference room on the third floor, which is where we’re headed.”

”Yeah because for some reason this demon has a lot of business to get done,” Seth said. We all looked at him. I burst out with one singular laugh and slapped my knee.

”Good one.”

The conference room was larger than I anticipated and dark and musty. We left the lights off and turned on all our flashlights and faced them towards the ceiling to give more of an expansive ambient light. As Colby set up the rem pod, I held an emf device and Sam prepared Seth to go under on the Estes method. For as empty as this room appeared to be, it sure as hell felt full.

Tables lined the back wall while chairs were stacked near them. A few stragglers of chairs peppered the room but other than that, only two gigantic crystal chandeliers decorated the room other than the hardly touched plush carpet with intricate designs.

The heat around my face didn’t get better. Only worse. I could hardly breathe. My vision was hazy and it was as if the air suddenly had a film of white air over taking the much needed oxygen. I decided that I was just crazy and sleep deprived when none of the guys complained about it.

”If there’s a spirit in here, let us know by coming close to one of our devices,” Sam started. His voice echoed around the room. “If you would like to speak with us you can do so by touching these devices,” he pointed to the rem pod and emf. “Or you can send words into this and it will read them back to us—“

Present

My heart stopped at the shrill of the ovilus.

”Thank you so much, I’m Sam, these are my friends—“ We each said our names. “We’re just here to talk and nothing more. Can we ask you some questions?”

”The rem pod—“ Colby rushed out. We all looked at the brightness of its lights. The rem pod never seemed so bright and loud to me than at that moment.

”Yeah that’s the rem pod it’s pretty intense,” Sam said. ”How many of you are there?”

Full

”The ovilus said full—

Meeting

”Does this mean a meeting full of spirits are here?” Sam asked. The rem pod stopped.

”If you have a lot to say and would like to talk to Seth in the spirit box, then move back to that—“

The rem pod went off again and stayed on

Sam turned to us with wide eyes and I stared back at him unblinking.

”Get—Alright Seth get on the spirit box,” Colby told him.

Seth sat in the chair blindfolded and he set the headphones on his head. The moment he went under I too felt a rush of dizziness.

”Hey—“ Colby grabbed my hand. “You good?”

”The energy drink must be making me jittery or something,” I said. “I’m so damn tired like I can’t keep my eyes open but I’m faster.” He nodded with a slight grin.

”Hopefully it’s just that—“

”Sam,” Seth spoke in a monotone voice.

”Hi, yeah that’s me. Who am I talking to, what’s your name?”

”Many.”

”There’s many of you, aren’t there? Are you all trapped here?” Sam must have been referencing Dr. Smith who said that the spirits here are trapped in purgatory.

”Not likely.” Seth’s voice twisted in my chest like a knife; I didn’t know what it was but I couldn’t breathe and the tone in his voice told me something different.

”Is there a way for you all to leave?”

”There was just—just a noise I think a sigh? Or a laugh? I don’t know— Irrational.” Sam’s head cocked to the side at the obscure word the spirit box tagged on to Seth’s description of the sound.

”What’s irrational?”

”Maybe it’s saying we’re irrational to think they are trapped,” Colby told him.

”Probably. Do you like staying here?”

“Feeding.” Seth's single word alone sent chills across your arms as if it didn't push 90 degrees in the room.

“Are you feeding on energies? I know a lot of people stay here—”

“Love it when you… I didn't catch the rest.”

“You love feeding on the energies or something?” Sam's patient tone never ceased to shock and impress me. The way he so confidently handled the discussion was something entirely beyond my capabilities. If whatever this was fed on any energy at all, it must have been mine because as my fear increased the remaining ounce of my energy decreased.

“Dr. Smith was talking about how this was like a super busy place for humans and spirits, and it's easy for them to get trapped since the supposed demon loved stealing the energy—” Colby spoke before Seth interrupted him.

“You bet, you bet I do—No for real guys that's what it said before a laugh. I'm shaking,” Seth rushed. Colby shot a glance at Sam the same time Sam turned to him.

“Why do you stay here and take the energy—”

“It—” Seth laughed as his cheeks blushed pink. “It's literally just a girl moaning.”

“Moaning? What the fuck?” Sam whispered back at Colby.

“Do you like to trick people here? Are you bored or something so you feed off their energy for entertainment?” Colby asked.

“I love it, I love it, I love—So stupid.” My head turned to the side in confusion; what the hell did that mean?

“Are you calling us stupid because we don't understand?” Sam asked.

For some reason I raised my voice next.

“Or are you calling the people you play with stupid—”

“Fucking bitch.”

“What the fuck,” Sam gasped as he looked at me.

“Damn sorry for speaking,” I laughed.

“You will be.” The boys gasped and looked at me as I stared at a completely oblivious Seth who still rocked back and forth in time with the jumping channels in his headphones.

“That's—That’s a threat,” Colby raised his voice. He took a step in front of me.

“You can't touch us or mess with us, you und—”

“Too late.”

“Too late as in too late because we’re all tired?” Nate asked.

“Yeah maybe it's already influenced us like Dr. Smith—” It cut Colby off.

“You'll feel it. Can't you?”

“Yeah we're pretty tired,” Sam replied, still somehow patient and confident. “Is that you making us tired?”

“Even more than.”

“More than what? You're making us more tired than usual?”

“Idiot.” Sam took a step back with a laugh.

“I'm tired of getting roasted by a demon,” he laughed. I wanted to laugh with them, but the fire started at my knees. Yes, it was hot in the room, but a particular ache that I wished was new spread lower than it typically did.

It was hot. And I wasn't just sweating.

“What’s your name?” Colby spoke up that time.

“It's my pleasure.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked in our direction. Colby shook his head. I stared intently at Seth still as if I couldn't look away. The fairness of his skin drew me in and it took a full seven more seconds until I realized the fire in my legs raised to my mid thigh and even higher.

I ached.

“What's your pleasure, what do you like to do to people?” Colby asked.

“Everything.”

My stomach fell out of its place.

“Everything,” Sam gasped nsd Colby quickly raised his hand.

“You would do everything to us?”

“Somethings.”

“You cannot hurt us or follow us home, you must stay here—”

“Oh trust me.”

“I don't like this,” I finally choked out.

“Yeah me neither,” Colby’s voice gently replied.

“Should we get him out?”

“One more question then we will,” he replied to Sam.

“What do you want to do to us?”

“it's already been done.”

“What? What have you—”

“Bye.”

And the headphones yanked from Seth’s head and fell to his feet by themselves.

The five of us stood frozen; all eyes peeled to the headphones that now reverberated with the shrill of empty changing channels.

The heat pooled in my stomach. I needed to change underwear.

“Holy shit—“ I finally break and take a step back.

”I know, oh god. What was—What the fuck—”

“What the hell just happened?” Colby cried and cut off Nate.

”Let’s—Let’s go back,” Sam choked out. “We need to get out of here.” Seth was deathly still and soaked in what had just happened to him. Nate’s hand held the back of his neck as we all left the conference room.

“Did—Did we get anything good at least?”

“Oh my god, let me tell you what happened.” On the way back to our rooms many stories above, Sam told Seth the entire story.

“How was that possible?” Colby finally broke. He spun around and walked backwards so he could see us all. “It literally stole enough energy from us to throw the fucking headphones down!”

”Which makes sense. I might pass out,” Seth said.

“Let’s hurry.” Colby grabbed my hand.

The ache wouldn’t leave. It was like it attached itself to my legs and spread up, up, and up— the heat in between my legs was unbearable now. I needed sleep. I needed to pass out. I needed—

I looked at Colby as we entered the elevator. His eyes were nearly devoid of color. We all were drained and tired, and this strange feeling like a spirit of desperation or something, came over all of us so suddenly that even Sam forgot to pick up the camera and press record again.

Nate and Seth went straight to their suite and Sam led us into ours. My heart pounded against my ribs as I crossed the threshold. Eyes. I felt their eyes on me but I didn’t turn back. Too tired, too drained, I didn’t know what else, or how much else, I could handle. I kicked my shoes off if I walked and didn’t even mind that they were in the middle of the floor. I flopped on the bed only for them to follow me.

Sam pulled a rem pod out of the backpack and set it up in the corridor between the first room and the bedroom while he set another room in between the corridor of the bedroom to the bathroom.

”Just in case,” he told Colby as he shot him confused looks.

The anxiety that welled in my chest depleted when Sam yawned and slipped out of his hoodie. Colby’s eyes were closed and I couldn’t tear my eyes from his dark lips when he licked them wet.

”I’m so ready to pass out,” Sam said. He flicked the lights off.

Colby made a sound as he moved and I heard him as well strip clothes off. What was happening? It sounded like their heads were caught in a fog as well and we couldn’t think. Our decision making skills were non-existent and when I slipped under the blankets in between them, it didn’t feel off from any other situation we had been in. At least Sam plugged his phone in. I could have left mine in that conference room and it wouldn’t have mattered to me.

The darkness of our room struck me before my head hit the pillow and I was out.

My throat was a dry fire and my skin turned to lava. My eyes peeled open and swirls of blues and whites from my forgotten dream mix with the darkness of the room around me. I whined. It was fucking hot. I sat up straight because if I didn’t get the hoodie off of me immediately I was certain I would die.

”Hey,” I heard Colby’s half asleep voice. I only whined again in response. He sat up. “What’s wrong—“

”So fucking hot I’m going to be sick.”

”Here, here,” his soft voice replied, and his hands quickly snaked under my hoodie. It was a frenzy to get everything off. I didn’t know what came over me, us, but before I knew it my hoodie hit the floor on top of his leather jacket and my thermal came off with it. My back hit the bed again as he hovered halfway over me. “Better?” He whispered.

”I—I don’t—I need—“

”What do you need?” My hands already fumbled with the button of my skinny jeans. Colby’s eyes trailed down my body and I didn’t cower in the sight. His hands swatted mine away and I lifted my hips so he could drag the damp fabric from them. Only when my jeans met his on the floor did I realize that he too only wore underwear.

”Something—anything—“

”Fuck, it’s not just me who feels it then, huh?” I shook my head quickly. He wavered in his confidence. Even in the darkness of the room I watched his head shake. His arms shook as well and he fought within himself it seemed.

”Do whatever you want, Colby.” So he lowered himself down on me. When did my legs spread?

And when I felt how hot and hard he was already, questions poured through my mushy brain faster than I could process them. Was this an effect from the demon? If so, what kind of demon was it? Were we not just tired out of our minds but also horny out of our minds as well? What if this wasn’t even the demon? Did I really like Colby more than I was willing to admit? Was Sam alright? Was he even still asleep?

A moan hitched in my throat when Colby purposely thrusted against me slowly. My back arched and he pinned me down by my throat.

”Sh,” he demanded. “This is what I want. You still gonna let me do it?”

I couldn’t think. Nothing rational repeated disagreements in my mind because for far too long now I’ve wanted this too.

I nodded frantically.

”Please, I’ll beg you to do it if you won’t.” He laughed once.

”I don’t think I can give you the time to beg this time.” This time? More sounds so far from myself escaped my tense throat when his thumb dipped into my mouth. He pulled at my teeth then my bottom lip and even though I know he only tried to find where my mouth was, my eyes still rolled back at the feeling and bitter taste.

And his mouth was on mine.

He drank down my moans and pushed my legs back so that he could thrust against every part of me. I couldn’t even call any part of this dry or clothed because my arousal was enough to saturate both of our clothes to ruin.

My stomach couldn’t keep up; it twisted under my skin and my heart pounded in my ears with every lick of his tongue behind my teeth. My hands chased up his skin from his pantline to his neck where I held tightly. I couldn’t get enough of it even if our sweat mended together past the point of comfort and our noises and movements were definitely harsh enough to wake Sam.

When he pulled away, I sucked on his tongue hoping to bring him back.

”Holy fuck—“ he gasped as I let go of his tongue. It was then and there that I decided I could never get over his taste and I needed more and more of it until I was addicted.

And I heard a heavy breath from Sam.

He did too because both of us shot wide glances at him. Of course Colby didn’t stop the obscene movements against me. Thankfully. Colby looked back at me, but I still watched Sam sleep. His head tossed from being disturbed and my heart dropped when I realized that in a matter of seconds, Sam’s eyes would be on us.

”Look at me,” Colby hummed and of course I did. “Please, can I…” He mumbled as his fingertips dipped under the band of my underwear.

”Fucking god—obviously,” I whined and writhed under him because why wouldn’t he hurry the fuck up—

My underwear were halfway down my thighs when we froze in our tracks; a moan that wasn’t mine.

“What—“

And another.

We looked at Sam simultaneously and I couldn’t look away from him this time.

”Maybe it—Maybe it’s not just us too,” Colby aimlessly spoke as he hurried to get my underwear off my legs. It was impossible to keep still. The friction overstimulated my every nerve but it also wasn’t enough. I needed more, more of something, of anything.

”Fuck.” Another drawn out moan interrupted us and I couldn’t contain the fluttering in my chest from the sound of Sam’s voice. He must have still been asleep because he moved lazily. I watched him as Colby ducked under the blanket.

Just as Colby’s mouth met my thighs, Sam thrusted up into the sheets.

He looked for something, anything, and in that moment I understood. I questioned, something in me truly did because this was incredibly unlike us, but I couldn’t think straight. Not with this haze flooding my neck and this cotton stuffed in my brain.

”Colby—“ I gasped the second his tongue met me. My hand found his hair and it only pulled a moan from him.

“What the fuck.” And there it was. A groggy voice next to me. I looked away from him in fear of my own red blush but I forgot how dark the room was. “Oh shit—“ It sounded like Sam came to and understood the situation now. “What the hell, why do I feel—“

”Sam.” I didn’t mean to hum his name the same way I did Colby’s. Colby moaned as he sucked me sweetly; I nearly blacked out from the heat of his tongue. And when his fingers teased me? My hips writhed for him. “Please oh my god, more just—inside already,” I whined and thank the heavens Colby didn’t put up a fight.

I didn’t even try to conceal my moans anymore, not when his fingers filled me and his tongue stimulated me so perfectly. Even in the darkness I saw and felt the head rush; my vision pounded with stimulation and shock.

Muffled moans caught my attention and I looked at Sam. He had turned to his front and although his eyes were closed and pointed down, he still faced me. His arms were crossed under his pillow and I knew he tried to fall back asleep.

He was closer though.

And I didn’t disregard the way his hips thrusted repeatedly into the mattress.

”Colby please, god I’m so close.”

”I know,” he whispered but pulled away. I wanted to complain but how could I when his kisses and tongue trailed up my body like that?

“Sam he’s—“

”I know,” Colby laughed. “It’s okay.”

“How do you know?”

”Look at him,” he laughed. “He would have told us to fuck off by now.” I don’t know why I would ever question Colby’s judgment of Sam. He knew him like he knew himself; I should have known they could communicate without even speaking at this point.

”It—It's okay,” Sam choked out. “Fuck—Colby, fuck her.”

I swore I met god from the sound of those words on his wet tongue.

A string of inaudible expletives rushed from Colby's mouth as he crawled up to eye level with me.

And he couldn't even wait.

He pulled himself from his underwear instead of taking them off, and my head tossed back when his wet tip slipped across me. My hands grappled for anything to hold on to for support. I couldn't contain myself or control my movements, not when Colby felt like heaven incarnate.

Sam's hand came up and pinned my wrist to the pillow next to my head. I whined for release but didn't do a good enough job escaping his grasp; his fingers slid up and interlocked with mine.

“Can I? Inside you?” Colby gasped.

“Inside me, fill me up please. I need—You know how bad I—”

“I know, I know,” he groaned before pushing himself fully in.

A moan punched out of me and I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. Sam moaned as well and held my hand tighter.

And as Colby fucked me like we would have no other chance, Sam thrusted into the bedding and pushed his hip against mine.

“Feel—Oh my god you feel better than I imagined,” Colby moaned.

“You imagined me?”

“No shit,” Sam bit back in spite. Colby only moaned louder and shoved my knees back further. My moans lifted to nearly a scream and Colby clasped his hand around my throat.

“Sh, only I can hear you, baby.”

“And Sam, right?”

“Fuck,” Colby laughed. Maybe I couldn't see him but I heard the blush. “Only if you can be good for him too.”

“I can be good,” I whined. Sam moaned and his hip pushed tighter into mine.

“Let go Sam—My hand, let go,” I forced out through the moans, and he did. Immediately I lowered my hand in between us and slipped it under him.

“Oh shit!” He cried and allowed me to wedge my way in between the bed and his insanely wet arousal. Between my sweat covering my skin alongside Colby’s and our pre-come saturating our legs and sheet, I should have felt disgusted. But it was heaven on earth. I wanted to drown in them. “Oh my god, you'll make me cum so fast,” Sam gasped into the pillow.

“You're doing so good,” Colby's moan turned into a laugh. “Like holy shit—I'm fucking close too.”

“Harder, please Colby, fuck me harder,” I whined and his head tossed back. His skin slipped under my nails from the sweat so I couldn't leave marks so I yanked him down by the neck. His hand supported himself next to my head and he moaned as I sucked harsh bruises into his collarbone.

And I pushed my hand tighter against Sam. His underwear were soaked and I just needed a little more—

“Oh—Oh my god yes, yes, yes—” Sam moaned as I shoved my hand in his underwear. I stroked him in time with his thrusts and there was something about the way his hips shook that ingrained in my mind.

Colby gouged his fingers into the thick of my thighs and I couldn't help but hope there were marks for me to fawn over in the morning. And it was his turn.

He leaned over me, and with his free hand, he held the side of my neck and kissed me into the pillows. I couldn't breathe between his violent thrusts and with his intoxicating taste in my throat, I let go of my body and let the boys fully take over it.

Then another arm came up and pulled my leg back.

“Sam—” I gasped his name when he inserted his arm under my leg between me and Colby. A gasp expelled from my used throat when he swirled his fingers against me. “Shit! There, there like that, oh my god!” I all but screamed.

“Oh fuck yeah, does it feel good baby?” Colby moaned. “Does it take both of us to please you, make you feel good?”

“Please! I'm so—”

“Holy shit, the rem pod!” Sam groaned.

And he was right.

I opened my eyes to find blue and red lights flickering in the dark abyss of a room and a loud shrill combined with our moans. Of course he was even prettier fucked out of his mind. Colby's hair stuck in every direction, and his lips parted in pleasure so I could see the gleam of saliva on his tongue. Fuck, I wanted him inside of me. Not even if he curled up in my bones would he be close enough.

“What—What time is it?” Colby breathlessly tried to ask in a serious tone.

Of course they would still be on the grind for work while fucking my brains out.

Sam moaned as he leaned and grabbed his phone—

“Holy fucking shit no way; it's 3:33am now 3:34.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Colby gasped. I didn't give a fuck. I needed him deeper, closer.

“More please—”

“So needy, baby. Oh my god. Want more? Alright, let me—” Colby rose to his knees and pushed my thighs back again. “Sam finger her, use your fingers, yeah like that.”

My gasp caught in my throat when Sam slipped his fingers lower and joined Colby inside of me. This time I think I blacked out but I'm not sure; when I open my eyes, my tears blur what little exposure the rem pod lights give us. Colby’s blue hued face gleamed back at me blurry and Sam's moans flooded my side.

“I'm cumming—” I whined. Colby nodded his head furiously.

“Shit yeah, cum—cum for us,” he praised. And Sam fucked his fingers deeper and finally found that spot inside of me—

My orgasm crashed into me before I could prepare myself and I closed my eyes and allowed the pleasure to take me.

Sam's moan was next, and I felt him cover us with his warm fluid. I made sure I stroked him harder until his hips painfully pinned my hand down and rendered it unable to move. His moans turned into whines from overstimulation and that was when Colby broke as well.

“I'm—Holy shit I'm going to—”

“Fill me, Colby. Please I need your cum. Cum inside of—” I barely finished my sentence before he choked out a loud moan as well. With my name on his lips, I swore I could have finished again and again, nevermind Sam's fingers that still harshly worked me.

It took a second or two and then Colby cried out with overstimulation.

“Sam—” he gasped, but as he pulled out, Sam got up to his knees and pinned me down.

“Please, please, please! It's so much!”

“Let go, baby. Let go when you need to—”

“Sam! Oh my god—”

Another wave of pleasure drowned me and I held onto his other arm as he fingered me through the intensity of it all. After another few seconds, he pulled his dripping hand away. My entire body violently shook as I watched a cup full of my fluids and Colby's release drip from his hand.

“Holy shit, you're so damn hot,” Colby laughed as he leaned back over me and kissed me again. He wiped the tears from my face.

It took a few moments.

For us to come back to ourselves, find our wits again.

The rem pod never stopped.

Sam walked to the bathroom to clean up since he was the dirtiest.

“Holy shit, what pervy ghosts—”

The rem pod stopped.

“No fucking way,” Colby burst out laughing and I covered my face with my arms. “Stop,” he laughed and pulled my arms back. “How can you blame them? You're so hot, so sexy, the most beautiful thing—”

“Alright ew, get a room,” Sam jeered from the bathroom.

“You're judging as if you didn't just finger her with my dick on your hand—”

“Alright I didn't think you'd say anything about that.”

“Aw, what, are you embarrassed that you touched his dick for the first time?” I teased.

“And it's the fucking last time too; that was disgusting,” Sam complained as he washed his hands harsher.

“I would have expected it to definitely not be the first time—”

“Shut the hell up,” Colby laughed. “Sam’s just judging me for telling you how hot you are, how beautiful and good you are—” I watched a sliver of Sam's reflection in the mirror as he smiled and shook his head. “—How much I love you.”

My stomach dropped and my eyes looked straight to Colby. The bathroom orange light drenched his face with an overwhelming warmth I wanted to swim in.

“Colby—” He held my face in his hands. “Love you.” The sentence only just fell from my lips before his met mine.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said. “There's all the time in the world for the lovey stuff after I leave.”

“And this is the only time you'll be here for this,” Colby snapped back. My eyes widened. I didn't anticipate Colby's genuine hostility towards his best friend over me.

“Colby,” Sam laughed. “I know. Obviously I know: she's been all yours from the start.”

“What the hell?” I shrieked. “Am I the only one who knows about this?” The two burst out laughing but not without a thick blush on Colby's already flared cheeks.

“Seems like it,” Sam laughed as he pulled on fresh underwear and clothes.

“Okay,” Colby sighed. I gasped as his arms tucked under my worn out body. “Let's clean up so we can actually have a good sleep.”

I held onto him as he carried me to the bathroom. He turned on the shower as I pulled my hair back to keep it from getting wet.

“Oh my—” He gasped a laugh when he looked in the mirror. Love bites lined his collarbones and slipped down his chest. “How are you so damn good at that?”

“I don't know, I guess you bring out the worst in me.”

“You have to be careful because I'll bite you back.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should or else you're all talk and no bite—Ah!” With that coy smile he slapped my ass and pushed me towards the shower.

“Get in the damn water, you're dripping cum everywhere.”

I couldn't open my mouth as Colby dropped to his knees in front of me. Ever so gently, his hands cleaned my skin with soft body wash until I was clean and smelled like myself again. He kissed my skin and trailed up my thigh.

“Don’t,” I sighed as I brushed his hair back. It was soaked from being directly under the water. He looked up at me darkly; eyes bright blue again.

“Can't wait until we go home.”

“And why's that?”

“Then I can finally have you in my bed like I've always wanted.”

“Colby is—” My tongue tied in my throat as the bashful smile fell. My heart slowed. I licked my lips. He stood to his feet. “—is that something you've wanted? Permanently?”

A slow nod from him had never felt this way before.

“I've wanted you, permanently.”

“Let me go home with you then.” My arms wrapped around his neck. “I've wanted to be yours forever by now.”

And he tossed his head back into the water with a wide smile.

“Fucking finally.”

The morning wasn’t kind.

The sunlight bit at our sensitive eyes, with zero remorse, as we tried to get ourselves together and ready for check out. We all were spent. Now it was time for a long—long—break in our own beds.

When we made it to the lobby, it took all but three seconds for the other two guys to shine widened shocked eyes back at us. Of course I messed up; I miscalculated the height of Colby’s neckline last night, but could anyone blame me?

”Colby—You—Last night?” Nate gasped. They looked at me.

“I—“

”Sam?” Nate looked at him. His face flushed pink as a boyish smile pulled at his lips.

“Hey now,” his hands rose in self defense. “It wasn’t me and it’s not happening again if you really want to know.” Colby tried his best to hide a wide smile, but as he hooked his arm around my neck, he broke a laugh.

”Jesus Christ.”

A/N: I am new here—to Tumblr (other than my account from 2013-2016 that popped off real hard rip)—and also Sam and Colby. I write predominately one shots for Dream Team, Corpse Husband, and Sam and Colby now. I dumped all my works on Wattpad—easy reads—and I got up to 3 Million reads on my Corpse Husband one shot collection, but Wattpad smote that shit.

Request anything—outside of my listed interests, I’m open to Jake Webber and Johnnie Guilbert but I don’t know much about them—and I will write it. I focus on 18+ writing so request anything in your wildest dreams, and if it somehow is too wild for me, I will let you know (but that has yet to happen).

Love, Rosie

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #solby #colby brock smut #colby x reader #colby brock x reader #minors dni #18+ only

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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year

Text

Work for it

Javier Peña x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen here-“ A pause followed.

“Javi.” He offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So that you knew what you were missing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should ask her out, Peña.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Javi, you okay?”

Man up, Peña.

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

“Go out with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.

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

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

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

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

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

He owes Steve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You remember that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Game on, Peña.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hopes you understand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The third official date comes around three weeks later.

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

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

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

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

He feels desired as much as he desires you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Javi-“ You protest weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAGS: @harriedandharassed

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

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captainfern · 6 months

Note

Fern I beg youuu make Graves to overstimulate reader 😭🙏 It can be short but I want it nastyyyyy. Pleaseeeee 🙇‍♀️

graves is just too fine to pass up on this

18+, fem!reader

graves had you laid out across his bed, your thighs spread and chest heaving, moan after moan falling from your lips, stringing into whimpers as he rutted into you, grinding his hips against yours

you’d already come four times, and were hurtling towards a fifth, graves’ pelvis circling against yours, dragging his cock deep inside you, pushing up against the base of your cervix

god, he was loving the sounds you were making— breathy, high-pitched moans as the head of his fat cock ground up against that spongey spot inside you, your back arching off the bed. your whimpers, so desperate for him and his cock, made him throb inside you

“graves, oh my god— fuck, please, p-please, phillip, i need— fuck—” you moaned, eyes rolling in your head as graves snapped his hips and drove his cock harder into you

your arousal was smearing down your thighs, making you shiver and the wet, warm walls of your cunt were sucking graves’ cock in, milking it as you neared your fifth orgasm

“that’s a good girl, baby. my good fucking girl,” he grunted, one hand on your hip to pull your body closer to his as he fucked you. “takin’ my cock like you were fuckin’ made for it, ain’t that right, baby? this wet— god damn— w-wet fuckin’ pussy’s just suckin’ me in.”

each thrust was loud with wet squelches, your cunt dripping around him, leaving the length of his cock shining with your slick. you were covered in sweat, your breaths coming in pants as he fucked you closer to your fifth orgasm

graves groaned above you, reaching his free hand down to toy with your swollen clit, sticky with your previous orgasms. you were so sensitive, mewling and sobbing out as his fingers drew tight circles, his cock rocking deep inside you, filling you up so fucking good

“yeah, that’s it— that’s it, baby, gimme another one. gimme another,” graves uttered, a moan in his words as the tip of his cock knocked up against the plug of your womb. “come ‘round my cock. come ‘round my cock, mama, come on.”

“i can’t—!” you sobbed, body trembling, slick with sweat, your tummy hot and twisting with overstimulation. you were cut off by your own moan as graves’ thrusts deepened, a portion of his body weight pinning you down as he rolled his hips against yours

“yeah you can, baby,” he cooed, then released a deep moan before continuing. “just one more, you can do it. come ‘round my cock like a good girl.”

your slick soaked your thighs and the sheets below, your cunt spasming around graves’ cock, your orgasm pulling tight in the base of your belly. your legs trembled, clit pulsing with his fingers still rubbing it

your orgasm hit you, and you arched further off the bed, pussy tightening around graves’ cock as you let out a pretty moan. “graves—!”

graves moaned. “there it is. good girl, mama, ‘m so proud of you. ‘n now i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy, hm? how’s that sound?”

he knew you couldn’t answer him properly as you fizzled down from your high, your body alight. you whined at him, his cock bullying into your soaking wet cunt with faster thrusts. it didn’t take long for him to reach his peak with his hands squeezing your hips, his head dropping to kiss you deeply

he moaned into your mouth as he came, filling you. “fuck, fuck, holy fuck— yeah, take it, mama, m’fuckin’ comin’—“

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #commander graves #phillip graves smut #graves cod #phillip graves #fem reader #graves smut

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Note

okay but what about virgin eddie being eager to please and the reader showing him the ropes and he’s just naturally so good at it :( i need it :(

oh anon what are you doing to me!

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering f receiving, cumming in pants, corruption kink, reader really likes that eddie is a virgin, car sex, dubious content (i think? reader rubs up against him without consent?), dirty talk, lots of eddie being called pretty and handsome!!

Word Count | 2.8K

A/N | i really took this and ran with it, god damn!! virgin!eddie just does things to me the boy is SO corruptible. i need help, jesus and a nap after this.

You sort of knew he was at least inexperienced from the get go. You'd met working at the local record store and doing the late shifts together. You never missed the way he'd get so flustered any time you'd pay him a compliment.

'Eddie you look so nice today', 'wow Eddie you should wear your hair up more often it looks good', or when you'd greet him with a 'hey handsome' or 'hey pretty boy' and he'd stumble over his words and go beet red. You could tell he didn't really get chicks, it was obvious by the way that all he could talk about on Monday mornings were his D&D campaigns that he played with literal sophomores.

Twenty year olds who barely skim by to graduate after their third year repeat of senior year didn't get babes. He knew that, you knew that. But you were so attracted to him anyway, you got a sick thrill out of how easy it was to panic him and make him blush.

You gave Eddie a ride home from work every night, the trailer park was a fair few miles from the shop and his van went bust a few months prior so it was sat like an antique with grass growing around it just outside his front door. Wayne made a point of complaining about it a lot when you were in earshot.

'Either fix the damn thing or get the piece of crap towed away. I know we live in a trailer park but we sure as shit ain't tramps.'

So yeah. He wasn't necessarily a lady killer but he was just so pretty to look at and it made your stomach do funny jumps. He was so passionate too, he could talk for hours about his guitar or Lord of the Rings and he remembered every little detail. Soaked in everything you'd ever say and remember it for next time.

So sue you. You liked Eddie 'the freak' Munson who was just the sweetest, prettiest boy you'd ever met. And you needed to corrupt him.

You were subtle to begin with. When you'd shuffle by him in the store you'd make sure to get as close to him as possible as if the space was just too tight for anymore room. You'd lay a hand on his waist to brush past, lightly dance your fingers on his shoulder. 'Whoops, sorry' you'd say when your ass would brush past his dick, you'd pretend not to notice his flustered look and his stumbling words.

It all came to a head on one Saturday night as you were driving Eddie home. Dio's Holy Diver playing as background noise. You bonded over your love of the same bands too, you'd occasionally catch his eyes go all gooey when you'd talk about Metallica. You couldn't help but notice the ways his eyes would wander over your chest, where a band shirt would usually be sitting. The way he'd look at your legs in your fishnets and tight skirts. Stutter when you'd catch him and give him a wink.

But anyway, this particular Saturday you'd asked if he wanted to go to a fast food joint for some burgers before going home. You were, admittedly, starving after bailing on lunch in favour of helping Eddie with the new shipment of vinyl that had came in.

Eddie was a gentleman, offering to pay for the burgers since you'd been driving him home and who were you to refuse a free meal. He took them to go so you could drive to a place somewhere quiet and eat in silence.

You drove up to a spot you went to occasionally when you needed some time to sit and relax on your own. It was essentially an old junk yard full of shitty banger cars but nobody ever came out here and it was nice for watching the stars on a clear night.

You eat your burgers mostly in silence, both of you chomping down like you hadn't eaten in days. You're sat in a silky leopard print skirt, fishnets all torn around your inner thighs from them rubbing together all day. You sit really unladylike, legs open and comfortable.

You catch Eddie peaking again.

"Eddie, sweetheart, its only a pair of thighs." You say quietly, breaking the comfortable silence in favour of embarrassing him, "You see them everyday."

Eddie flusters a little, mouth still full of burger but he stops chewing and goes bright red, floundering for words, "S-sorry, uh, fuck I can't help but look. Your tights are all torn." He points out, motioning towards the large holes.

"Babe, you can't honestly tell me that's the reason you were looking," You say, balling up your fast food paper and tossing it in the back without looking, "you're trying to catch a glimpse of my princess parts."

A laugh bubbles out of your mouth at the use of those words, only using them to tease Eddie and his seemingly virginal ways. Worried if you call it a pussy he'll open the door and flee.

"Uh, eh, I wouldn't know much about that," Eddie cringes at his own words, he can't even look at you and it's just so endearing, "I can't say I've ever seen one."

You gawp a little bit. Taken aback by his confession.

"What do you mean, Eddie?" You ask, the teasing way in your voice only coming out just a smidge now, "You've never...?"

"God, don't make me say it, sweetheart," Eddie grimaces, tossing the last of his burger on the dashboard, hunger long forgotten at the embarrassing conversation, "I'm a twenty year old virgin. Laugh all you want, you should."

"I'm not gonna laugh," You say, all too quickly, "I just can't believe no girl, or guy maybe, has ever pinned you down and just ridden the shit out of you. You're really hot, Eddie. I mean, really hot."

Eddie's cheeks flush so dark they're almost purple and suddenly he's shuffling awkwardly in his seat next to you, like he's trying to cover himself from you.

"Hey pretty boy," Your voice is barely above a whisper now, you lean over and tug at his arm to get him to turn to you again, "I find that kinda... hot."

Eddie scoffs at that but lets you move his arm, your fingers beginning to dance down it, edging closer to his wrist, "Yeah, right. You don't have to lie to me I know it's ridiculous. Who the fuck is still a virgin at this age unless it's by choice?"

"Means you're all kinds of corruptible, handsome." You're not teasing anymore, bringing your hand further down to drag your fingers over his knuckles, "Makes me kinda hot and bothered."

"Oh, oh right," Eddie sucks in a breath and shudders, Jesus Christ this guy has no game and it's so fucking cute you're about to burst. Your cunt is twitching already just thinking about ruining him.

"Maybe I could show you the ropes? Y'know? How to touch a girl an' get her going?" You suggest, and you can see the goosebumps littering Eddie's arms, "Obviously so that when you find a girl you really like you can wow her."

A strangled little noise caught between a whimper and a sigh escapes Eddie's lips, his head thumps back against the headrest on his seat, displaying his gorgeous expanse of neck, the veins protruding in ways you can't ignore. Admittedly, he's already got you going without even having to touch you, and you know now that you're fucked.

"You gotta say yes or no, handsome. Just so I know you're into this and I'm not adding two plus two and getting five," Your voice is gentle as you finally grip hold of Eddie's wrist gently, dragging it over to rest on your inner thigh. His fingers flex on the skin, gripping ever so slightly, making you exhale a shaky little moan.

"I, uh, I would like to. But I'm gonna be shit, no point denying it," Eddie barks out a little sarcastic laugh, his brows furrowing together.

"Oh, honey," You giggle, "you're a guitar player. Those fingers already know what to do without me having to show them. I'll just tell you what to do, where to press, how fast I like it, how hard. Can you listen to me and do that?"

You chance a glance down at his crotch and can see the thick outline of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. Your mouth practically starts salivating, already eager to know just exactly how it looks. In your daydreams it was big, but looking now in the dim light at his concealed erection, it was obvious just how big it truly was.

You get up from your seat, shuffling a little so you can swing a leg over and perch yourself in Eddie's lap, gasping a little when you sink down just enough to rub your cunt along his hardness. Eddie bites down on his lip, a strangled, breathy moan leaving him.

"This okay?" You ask, just to make sure, and he's nodding so fast he could get whiplash. You take ahold of Eddie's right hand again, sliding it under your skirt to let his palm rest lightly over your pussy, letting him feel the heat and the damp patch that's formed in your cotton panties so quickly, "You've done this to me already and you haven't even touched me yet."

"Really? Shit," Eddie looks up at you with wide brown eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. He's so eager, letting his fingers run over your clothed folds, dipping a finger in between experimentally and smiling a little when you moan, "Can I, uh, can I move your panties out of the way?"

"Go for it, handsome. Get a good feel." You're back to smirking again, but not for long when Eddie hooks two fingers into the elastic of your panties and pull them to the side, exposing your puffy little cunt to the cold air. You gasp when two hot fingers rub between your lips, catching on your clit just barely, "Okay, can you find where my clit is?"

Eddie nods eagerly, running his fingers back up and pressing on that little hard bundle of nerves, his cock twitching at the feeling of your slick in between his fingers, "There, right?" He asks, just to make sure, but it's obvious by the way you bite your lip and whine.

"Yes there, fuck, Eddie if you do good for me this really isn't gonna last long," You admit, throwing your head back a little, "just rub me there in small circles, I like it fast."

Eddie's fingers start to almost expertly rub you in circular motions, his calloused fingertips catching and dragging your clit in the most delicious way. You turn into a whining mess quite quickly, especially when his free hand comes up to grab at the meat of your thigh to hold you in place.

"God, handsome, you're really good at this, uh," You choke on your own tongue when he speeds up a little, "wanna use that free hand and slip your fingers in me?"

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, glossy eyes dancing a little, "you sure?"

You nod excitedly, knees buckling a little when you feel his hand come up under your skirt, the pads of two fingers swirling around your entrance. You can't believe he's never done this before, you half expected him to not even know where your hole was never mind anything else. He looks into your eyes, raising his brows a little in a silent question and you nod again.

Eddie sinks his fingers in all the way to the hilt immediately and it makes you gasp, the breach unexpected but certainly not unpleasant. A nice stretch, the cold of his thick rings on the rim of your cunt making you shiver, "Pump them in and out of me and try to find a, Jesus, a rhythm that matches your fingers on my clit."

"Does this feel good?" Eddie asks, and it's clearly meant to be in earnest but it sends hot flushes all up your spine, his long fingers beginning to pump in and out of you slowly.

"God, yeah, yeah it does, Eddie." You whine, hips having a mind of their own and helping him with the process, helping his fingers sink in and out, "Crook them a lil, you'll find a soft spot, kinda feels like a sponge."

Eddie's brows furrow together, his fingers starting to falter both inside of you and on your clit as he tries to find a rhythm. It comes back to him quickly, both of his fingers sunk deep in your cunt crooking ever so slightly and finding your gspot almost immediately.

You choke out a moan that sounds wet, like you're about to cry, "Fuck, right there, handsome. Keep doing that, m'gonna cum."

His fingers are heavenly dancing inside of you. His assault on your clit is hard and fast and soon enough you're so wet that you can feel it running out of you, probably slicking Eddie's hand, wrist and arm with creamy slick, "How does it feel for you, Eddie?"

You're looking at each other and the lust is apparent in Eddie's face, the way his brown doe eyes are hazily watching you, "Feels so good. Your pussy feels like heaven on my fingers, you're so tight."

"Fuck, dirty talking already are we?" You almost squeal, a hot flush taking over your whole body as you chase your orgasm, "Love hearing dirty words coming from your mouth about me, keep going."

Eddie leans forward, hot mouth kissing and sucking wetly at your tits, your collarbones, your neck, "Y'like that? Like my fingers in you? You're whining like a little slut."

You fucking lose it at being called a slut, the mixture of his hands, his mouth and the obscene slicking sounds coming from your cunt have your legs buckling, your stomach twisting as you reach your high, cumming so hard that your pussy constricts and grips at Eddie's fingers tightly, a loud moan slipping from your mouth, hands automatically coming up to grip at his curls as your hips fuck back and forth, riding out your orgasm.

You're sensitive, shivering a little as Eddie rubs you through the last of it, so you rest a gentle hand on his wrist to let him know to stop. He stops immediately, long fingers sliding out of your cunt slowly as not to startle you.

"Was - was that okay?" He asks, looking at you again with those gorgeous, stupid doe eyes, the nervousness back and apparent in his voice. You're all orgasm stupid, barely able to keep your eyes open, so you lean forward and smash your lips onto his, greedily lapping your way into his mouth with your tongue as a way of confirming it was good.

Eddie's big hands come to encircle around your waist, deepening the kiss. So, okay, he's not the best kisser just yet but you can show him that too. It's sloppy and wet and everything you need right this second.

Your hips begin to rub along the length of Eddie's still painfully hard cock straining in his pants, you put down enough weight to grind perfectly against him, your sensitive clit loving the friction of the thick denim running against it.

"Wha-" Eddie pulls away from your lips, confusion on his face turning to ecstasy, a moan escaping him. Fuck, he's so loud it's making you flutter.

"Was gonna try an' get a hand on your cock but that can be for another day," You hum, hips still gliding back and forth roughly, "wanna see you cum in your pants, though."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea what you're - uh, god - what you're doing to me," Eddie's whimpering, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, matting down his fringe, "m'gonna cum, shit, shit, I'm cumming."

You watch every bit of it, the way the veins in his neck pop, his eyes squeezing shut as he vibrates against you, fingers squeezing you so hard it'll bruise. Fuck, he's so pretty you want to die, you can't believe you're the first person to make him cum and you didn't even have to lay a hand on him.

When Eddie eventually opens his eyes, the blush is back on his cheeks, as if he's mortified by what he just did, "Damn, twenty years old and I just came in my pants like a teenager."

"It was hot, pretty boy," you sigh, leaning down to peck his lips, "I'll get a hand on you soon though, I need that thick cock everywhere on me."

He whines at that, hips bucking up of their own accord, "Fuck, you dunno what you're doing to me, sweetheart."

"Corrupting you, Eds. And you're gonna love every fucking minute."

#ha fuck i cant stop imagining corrupting virgin!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female!reader #stranger things #my fanfic #mine #smut #x reader #fem reader #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn smut #virgin!eddie #virgin!eddie munson

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

“Why are you wearing cologne?” Dustin asks after barely one second in the van.

“I’m not,” Eddie says, and promptly wants to die at how unconvincing that was. It’s not even technically a lie…

He makes it out of the school parking lot with Dustin saying jackshit, so for a little while, he thinks he’s gotten away with it.

More fool him.

Dustin abruptly lunges to the side, all up in his face like the world’s most dedicated sniffer dog.

“Ew, gross! Get off, man, I’m gonna crash,” Eddie says, even though they’ve been at a stop light for the past minute.

“Okay, correction,” Dustin says, drawing back. “Why are you wearing Steve’s cologne?”

Eddie stares into the middle distance, prays for The Upside Down to come and swallow him up.

An agonising silence.

“Oh my god,” Dustin whisper-screams. “Oh my god.”

“Look, just—”

“Oh my god!”

And yup, ow, that’s definitely become a full blown scream now, and double ow, Dustin has just socked him one in the arm.

“Hey!”

“What the fuck, Eddie?! How could you not—”

“Jesus! Take a damn chill pill, Henderson, I swear to—”

“Since when you do you say shit like—oh my God, Steve says shit like that. You can’t let him get to you like this, Eddie, you’re too young to die.”

“What does that even mean?”

Dustin keeps jiggling Eddie by the arm as he pulls up to Dustin’s house. Even when his stomach is jangling with nerves, he can’t fight a smile at the kid’s antics.

“Holy shit, this is big,” Dustin says with wide eyes, and it bothers Eddie that he can’t get a hold of what sort of expression is on his face. “This is huge.”

And all of a sudden, it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore.

“It’s not,” Eddie says quietly. “It’s really not. It doesn’t have to be, like… look, Dustin, can we just—if it bothers you, just drop it, and we can pretend like—”

“Wait, what? No.” And now Eddie can read the remorse on his face. “Shit, sorry. Eddie, I didn’t mean, like… big in a bad way, I swear.”

And goddamn it, Eddie trusts him. Of course he does.

“Okay.” He lets out a long sigh, tipping his head back in his seat. “Okay.”

“I just meant… like, you know The Royal Family? In England.”

…What.

“Oh, please, run with this analogy,” Eddie says, a mixture of curious and hysterical, “I’m dying to see where it goes.”

“You know, when they have news, they put it outside the… Palace? Like, on a stand. So people know.”

“Are you fucking implying that you are the public to our… wow, I’m so sorry, Henderson.” Eddie can’t take it anymore; he wheezes with laughter, can’t hide how relieved he sounds. “Next time I’ll ruin your front lawn and put a huge fucking sign there, then you’ll know that—”

“I didn’t mean it literally, asshole. I just…” Dustin shrugs. “Just meant if you wanted to, like… mention it. It would be cool. It is cool.”

“Cool,” Eddie echoes faintly.

“Cool,” Dustin repeats, emphatic.

Jesus Christ, I love you so much.

“Aw, Henderson,” Eddie says, “were you gonna make us a card or something?”

“Do you want a card?” Dustin says dryly.

And yeah, he’s being a little shit about it, but there’s also a note of sincerity hiding in there that has Eddie fighting a lump in his throat. He chuckles through it, flicks Dustin’s forehead.

“C’mon, get out before your mom thinks I’ve kidnapped you.”

“She thinks you’re an angel now, and you know it. It’s horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a Saint.”

Eddie waits until Dustin’s at his front door before reversing, watches him with silent fondness as he greets his cat.

He says through the side window, “Hey, Dustin?”

Dustin turns back. “Yeah?”

“We’d have told you first anyway. We were gonna, I swear.” Eddie scoffs. Smiles. “Not our fault you’re Sherlock Holmes, man.”

Dustin smirks, but his eyes are soft. “It was pretty elementary.”

#this is so silly. they are so silly. & i love them so #eddie and dustin #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #dustin henderson #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #henderfam

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succubusmunson · 7 months

Text

warnings: finger (f receiving), oral (f receiving), pet names

Eddie is just so desperate to feel your pussy that the second he gets home, he’s on his knees, and his rough hands are spreading your thighs apart.

You’re in nothing but an old shirt of his and panties, a dark, wet patch already forming on them at his eagerness. “Eddie- what?”

“I need to fucking feel you,” he kisses up your thigh, biting and sucking marks across your skin. You can’t help but whimper and spread your legs wider. “Been thinking about this pretty pussy all damn day. Just a little taste, sweetheart, please.”

Between the desperation in his eyes and the whine in his voice, you easily give in. Who are you to deny him devouring you?

Within seconds, your panties are torn, and your thighs are pushed towards your chest. Eddie’s tongue licks up your slit, moaning against you as soon as your taste hits his tongue.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled against you, nose nudging at your clit as he inhaled your scent. “You don’t know how much I needed this.”

Before you could say anything, you felt his plump lips wrap around your clit. You grabbed his hair, pulling him close to you the harder he sucked. The moans and whines fell from your lips, echoing into Eddie’s ear like a song he never wanted to stop listening to.

“Oh- fuck!” Your back arched off the bed as you felt two slick fingers slide inside your wet pussy, curling right against your g-spot immediately. “Eddie!”

“That’s right, pretty girl.” He pulled away for a brief second. His chin covered in your slick, and his eyes glazed over. “You needed this just as bad as I did, huh? Bet you were thinking of me between your legs all day.”

You nodded slowly, eyes rolling in the back of your head as he added a third finger. “G-god dammit!”

Eddie’s mouth was back on you, licking over your swollen clit, sliding inside you next to his fingers. Before you knew it, your legs were shaking, the coil in your belly tightening.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” his fingers pumped faster, the squelching sound becoming louder. “Cum for me. Cum for me like a good girl.”

That was all it took for you to see white behind your eyelids, for your thighs to shake, and for your orgasm to tear through your body. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Eddie moaned at the feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers, sucking them in, and completely soaking them. “That’s it. Holy shit- I wish you could see yourself right now.” He kissed your thighs as his fingers slowed down, “so fucking perfect.”

Your face heated up in embarrassment as Eddie pulled his dripping fingers from you. Your cum stringing between them. “Oops?”

“Don’t you worry about this,” he slowly licked his fingers, making eye contact with you the whole time. “I don’t mind cleaning up your messes.”

“Now,” he laid beside you, a big smile on his face. “Sit on my face so I can make you cum with my mouth.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic

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gh0st-in-green-c0nverse · 4 months

Text

sea salt

percy jackson & gn! reader — reader comes back to camp after a long summer away

tw - implied alcoholism (not of reader but of a parent)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Just call it fall. No one calls it autumn.”

The curb digs into the backs of your thighs, shorts not doing much for the growing chill.

“I call it autumn.”

“hm. Weird.”

There’s a girl who lives down the street from you, by the stop sign on the corner. She has eyes like chocolate and ribbons in her hair. Her name is—

“Penny, I don’t get why the leaves here never turn. They go from green to brown. It’s stupid.”

She takes a long, contemplative sip from her juicebox. “Weather ain’t cut out for it. It gets real pretty upstate, though. That’s where you’re going tomorrow, right?”

A beat. Right, the ‘boarding school’ you go to every school year.

“Yeah. Right. The scenery’s beautiful.” Penny takes another loud sip. “Apple?”

“Grape.” She shows you the box as if you needed proof. You wrinkle your nose.

“That’s—"

clang!

“Penny!!!!” Someone screeches. It echoes, bounces around the neighborhood in the fading light.

Her brother rounds the corner, bicycle helmet dangling from one hand, blood dripping down his knees.

“Holy hell,” Penny swears. She stands with an apologetic glance. “Have fun upstate. Send me pictures of the le—"

“Penny!!!”

You laugh. “I will! You better go tend to him. He’s clearly in critical condition.”

She rolls her eyes. “How dire.” But she jogs over to him anyways.

One by one, the streetlights flicker on. There’s a melancholy that comes with the dusk that you can’t shake.

Penny’s left her juicebox.

You start home.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

It feels like you’re suffocating the second you step through the front door.

It’s simple. Get the taxi money from the drawer in the kitchen, go back to your room, stay there until you can leave tomorrow. Just this one thing.

Just this last thing.

The floorboards creak as you walk through the kitchen. There are glass bottles and crumpled cans on the counter. You toss them in the bin and make a mental note to stay away from Dad.

The drawer sticks the first time you pull on it, so you pull again, harder. It scrapes open.

You grab a twenty and some change and concurrently nick yourself on the stapler. Blood wells. You hiss through your teeth.

Dad is in the living room on the couch, knocked out. His breath is sour.

You tiptoe upstairs. Just one more night. Then you can leave again.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The door slams shut behind you.

You shoulder the duffel bag and close the trunk of the car.

“You sure this is where?” The taxi driver is a stern looking lady. Her hair is streaked with gray.

“Yep, I’m sure.”

You’re at the base of the hill.

“Really? Because there’s nothing here.”

“I’m meeting someone here,” you say, attempting a sure smile. “Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

She stares at you for a moment, eyes narrowing. “‘Kay.”

The taxi sputters off.

You’ve never understood why they made the entrance to camp so damn steep. This sucks, this sucks, this sucks, muttered with every footfall.

The grass is making your ankles itch.

It’s all worth it when you cross the camp boundary, though. You can feel it, like a shift in the air. You breathe it in, feel the pressure in your chest start to dissipate.

Someone calls your name, excited and breathless. You turn and immediately are sent stumbling back by a blur of orange.

They smell like cut grass and salt. Not like sweaty salt, but like sea salt. It’s nice.

“Hey, Percy.”

He laughs into your shoulder, arms wrapped around your back.

“Hi.”

You let your head rest against his. Gods, you’ve missed this place. You’ve missed him.

Your eyes sting. The orange fabric at his shoulders bunches as you hug him tighter. He rocks back and forth on his feet but lets you cling to him.

You’re the one who pulls away first.

“You okay?” He murmurs.

He could feel the tremble of your fingers when they were laced behind his back.

“Yeah. Why?”

Percy searches for something in your eyes. You’re not sure what though. Maybe an excuse to pry about the watery sheen to them.

He doesn’t pry, though. Instead, he leads you back to the pavilion, hand in hand.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

By the time you’ve settled in, the sun is dipping below the pine trees. Yesterday at this time, you were on the curb with Penny. Now, you sit before a roaring campfire, the gloom of dusk chased away by kids giggling and music playing.

The smoke is sweet smelling. It draws spirals in the sky, dusty gray stark against orange streaks.

You’re somewhere off to the side of the benches. It’s too loud right next to the flames.

Percy’s shoulder is barely brushing yours.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay here for the summer.” His voice is quiet. It dissolves sweetly with the smoke.

“Me too.”

You can feel him turn to look at you, curls ghosting the shell of your ear.

“I missed you.”

You turn to look at him, to really look at him. There’s something sad behind his eyes, but it’s barely there. It flickers in the firelight. Maybe it’s what he saw in yours.

“Me too. It’s good to be back.”

You link your pinky with his and he smiles at you, sickeningly sweet.

It really is good to be back.

The fire roars. You let your head drop to his shoulder. Percy drops his head too, his cheek to your temple.

That night, you text Penny.

hey. you were right; the leaves are really pretty upstate. hope your brother survived. x

#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fics #percy jackon and the olympians

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bvnnywrites · 7 months

Text

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 1: Apple of His Eye

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I've said before, English isn't my first language, so this would e fun. Hehe. I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys hehehehe. I'm posting this on both Tumblr and Ao3. Who knows, the story on the other site would be different hm...? I'm not telling when, but hehe. Also, reader is in her twenties, specifically 22, so yayeet. If you don't like how fucked up this story is gonna get then please turn around and go on your merry way. I'll be posting the first chapter here on Tumblr because jesus, my ao3 invitation has yet to arrive. Also, don't forget to write comments, I need feedback because I eat them like it's groceries-

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

WHENEVER A CERTAIN COLONEL PASSES BY the soldiers would grow quiet, as if he’s sucking the joy with him and then the chatter would continue once his thundering footsteps would fade away into quietness.

A silence would hang over the air for a brief moment – like they’re making sure the danger has passed before proceeding – and the soldiers would continue to chat once they're sure it was safe to proceed. Babbling away but their voices would be a bit hushed, as if their ears were on the lookout for the colonel’s presence.

The colonel was absolutely – you remember his name being König because you saw him score several shots using a sniper rifle in training – wholeheartedfuckingly terrifying.

König strides confidently across the battlefield and KorTac base of Operations in the same damn manner—Arrogant, egotistical, prideful. The mountain of a man walks in like he owns the place, and troops would be so relieved if they see him in the battlefield because they know that he'd be able to turn the tides to their favor.

And the fucker knows it. He knows people look up at him. Looking at him like the fucking messiah that would save them right then and there.

He relished in it.

And he was so fucking gigantic as he is muscular too, to the point his huge hands could definitely crush your head with his fingers if he saw fit. To say he was a Greek God was insulting. No, he was like Kronos.

Destructive.

All-devouring force.

Whenever you stood too close to him—even tho you recall not stepping too close to the colonel because you wanted to respect the five-foot rule for everyone lest they give you the go signal to hog their personal space like Izzy does—you can see the way his muscles would bulge whenever he tightened his fists, or how the veins on his arms were so… alluring, and holy shit he has scars. Battle scars that should've repulsed you but you find yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers.

His form is almost mesmerizing—like how you'd imagine Fenrir slaying Odin from one of the Norse Myths.

However, like Fenris Wolf, he too was bound and shackled to base. Most of the time, at least. You would see him buried and drowning and several paperwork when you go to his office while Roze waited for you by the door.

And you could see his baby blue eyes squint and conjure a glint of annoyance as you hand him your report. He has pretty eyes, that colonel. He doesn’t speak to you, always uttering grunts or huffs. Dismissing you with a wave of his hand—always gestures but never talking.

It reminds you of gray skies and blue muted waters, and sometimes they seemed vibrant when you hear the sinister glee in his voice of bashing an enemies head open like how watermelon breaks – and then he'd look at you and you'd immediately avert your gaze because oh god that would be so fucking awkward if your superior had caught you staring at his eyes like a creep.

As mentioned before, König is mostly quiet, and you didn't really hear him talk since he never talked to you at all. In the battlefield, when he barked out orders, gunfire would drown them and those closest to him would relay the message on to the others.

Lieutenant Izzy – Izanami actually, but she preferred being called Izzy – always spoke in Japanese, but she can speak a few broken English words. She didn’t seem to see you as a liability, often asking you out to grab lunch with her and Captain Roze. The white-haired girl always made sure you never missed your meals, and if you did, she’d make sure to hand you some MREs for the sake of making sure you’re taken care of.

She said to you once, “Be careful of that colonel, he is… what is English word that for… word you use when object is not good to you—harms life.”

“You mean dangerous?” Roze would correct her. “We really need to work on your English, girl.”

“Yes, that the word I’m looking for.” Izzy would laugh. “ローズ先輩、訂正してくれてありがとう。”

Roze, on the other hand, was more closed off. She was ruthless and strict, but you’re convinced that she cares about you the same way Izzy does because she gets this soft glint in her eyes when you tell her that you forgot to eat or missed lunch. Then five seconds later you’d feel an MRE smacking you on the chest, and Roze is barking at you for being stupid enough to not eat and say you’re lucky that her and Izzy are looking out for you.

But you can tell that both are highly protective of you, like older sisters making sure their youngest sibling didn't fuck up on missions or get hung by their rib by enemy soldiers.

Whenever the colonel passed by, you remember Roze’s words “Keep your gaze down” because apparently there was an incident where König had beaten the shit out of a recruit because the poor thing looked at him funny. Something about the recruit scrunching his face in disgust at the colonel or was it because he had mocked him behind his back?

Either way, the kid was beaten to a pulp.

The colonel was never given a court martial, however, since he had been able to pull rank it seems. Roze was the one who told you during lunch, voice in a hushed whisper.

Then your thoughts wander back to the nightly horror stories your soldiers would tell to one another. You had a habit of visiting them before making sure they all slept on curfew time. It was fun and it helped boost morale amongst the troops. It also helped that you were a younger lieutenant, so you were able to easily connect to your platoons’ humor and quip remarks.

You remember the hushed whispers in the barracks, each of them uttering stories of what König might look like beneath the mask.

You often thought maybe he looks so mutilated that it resembles Nemesis from Resident Evil or maybe Salvatore on the Village Version. But you've seen the pretty blue eyes König possessed and you just know that deep down, he was a handsome man.

Sure, he was old enough to be your dad, had a huge ass age gap that's wider than the forehead of the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces you had previously worked with due to König being forty-five years old, but you'll admit a pretty man if you see one.

However, your soldiers' claims were way more hilarious as they spoke. Each sounding absurd and stupid than the last.

"I heard he has three faces, like the demon Asmodeus. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he's a prince of Hell in disguise. Have you seen his body? What I'd give to climb him like a tree."

"I could've sworn I saw worms underneath. Kind of like maybe a maggot-infested lower jaw since I heard the skin of his jaw had been burnt off."

"I think he has the face only a mother could love. Men like that exist."

You had grown up in a small town, people believing heavily in superstitious beliefs. However, once you've left said small town, you realize that they were silly things that old people simply uttered into the wind.

"Did you know a psychic said I would get murdered when I was ten?" You laughed at the absurdity of it all, wanting to add some scary shit of your own.

"Really, L.T?" One of your soldiers said. "Oh, this has to be good!"

“Yeah. I remember she was very old, and if I were correct, I think she moved from Hallstatt? Wherever the fuck that is.”

You told them the stupid little story. How you lost twenty dollars to a fraud only for them to say you'll get murdered, and how it spooked you as a kid and made you all paranoid only to realize you just got scammed out of your money.

"The thing that will kill you is hiding its face. The thing that will kill you has its crown scraping the ceiling. The thing that will kill you has sharpened teeth. The thing that will kill you will charm you with its glamor and false promises. The thing that will kill you will devour you with its appendages and fill you with its seed. The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

The soldiers all laughed, including you, after you've said it in the most croaked voice as you mimicked the old psychic.

You've never laughed so hard in your whole life, but you were glad that it was your troops that were with you and not stuck up stoic alpha male soldiers. It wasn't real, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

All of you got along.

Sure, most of the soldiers given to you were teens – because the military was just hiring eager and stupid kids, and by God you were going to protect these little shits with your life – but it was fine because they had you. For as long as you live, you promised yourself you'd make sure they were all safe.

And you took them under your wing and you feel bad because they were kids compared to you. They shouldn't be here dressing up as soldiers and being sent off to war zones with you. These kids were supposed to be at home, where they could be safe, and worrying about teen stuff. But then again, KorTac was a company at the end of the day.

A Private Military Company—basically just glorified mercenaries at this point.

Of course, they would exploit anyone who is willing to serve for their country while also getting paid generously compared to being in a government affiliated military—Hell, you're here, aren't you? Why? Because they can be greedy fucks and capitalism exists, and KorTac rivals Disney in terms of being a well-known PMC in the military world, and you're broke.

Not to mention that the BAS – Basic Allowance for Subsistence – was fucking higher in KorTac than the government affiliated military you used to serve in. A BAS rate of seven hundred sixty-two point sixty-nine euros for enlisted members, while officers are given the same but with an increased rate of four hundred ninety-seven point fifty- eight euros is better than the current BAS.

You also get the average of six thousand and seven hundred eighty-two euros at an average per month here in KorTac. The pay is way fucking better and you can save up money to the point you were able to pay off your own student and credit card debts and leave your parents' nest since you were basically loaded at this point.

Money was enough to blind you from the dangers that lurked beneath the still waters that run deep that is KorTac.

"The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

“Did you hear what happened?”

“What?”

“Another soldier went missing again.”

Captain Stiletto changed her mags, examining her scope as she spoke to you with a calm voice—as if she hadn’t just dropped the news of someone going missing. Again. You were ready to hear which recruit was unlucky enough to be whisked away and never to be seen again. That or they turn up mutilated and scared, and the poor things won’t even talk. However, a missing rookie suddenly turns up out of nowhere after months of disappearing without a trace was statistically low.

No, really, it would be low—unusual at best.

The best way to analyze it would be using the Bayesian Inference, and using a probability model to express the uncertainty towards the situation. In this case, using a binary variable would be ideal, $Y$, to represent the outcome whether the missing rookie ever did turn up or not. $Y$ = 1 if the rookie is found, and $Y$ = 0 if the rookie isn’t found.

Then assume that the probability of finding said missing rookie is equal to the proportion of all missing persons who are eventually found. As evidence becomes available, then update the model with that evidence and compute the posterior distribution for the probability of finding the rookie.

In this case, if one of the higher ups discovered the rookie all pale and shaking and are obviously had been terrified to fucking death, the information in that scenario could be used to update the posterior distribution, taking into account that the probability that the rookie had seen something scary in that location, if they were ever found that is.

Once the model with all available evidence has been updated, the posterior distribution to make predictions of the probability of finding the new recruit can now be used. The officers tasked with finding them—at least those who hasn’t given up—will be able to find them within a certain time frame or calculate the probability that they’re are found alive or dead.

Just some basic statistics you’ve learned in ninth grade, that’s all. Or at least from what you can remember.

The scar that ran down the captain’s face was evident like the blood smeared in your hands when you’ve killed an enemy. No one knew why there was a huge damage to her face or why it was there in the first place. You’ve only been in KorTac for a month, almost everyone you’ve met have given you warnings and it was all the same—keep your distance from the colonel. You have half a mind to say “Fuck this” but the pay was good.

Not to mention your contract hasn’t been finished yet and you doubt you’d find a good paying job like this while doing what you love.

“Who was it?” You dared to ask.

Stiletto looks away for a moment, before turning back to you. “Private O’Neil.”

Your eyes widened at the information. You don’t know the person, but to hear a private going missing was surprising. Usually, it was the recruits who disappeared for the most part or at least from your observation in your stay here. Now that’s very strange.

“Huh… a Private? How come it wasn’t a rookie?”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.”

Stiletto responds with the same confusion as you, her lips pursed. She looks worried, unsure to react.

“The colonel had been tasked to investigate the missing cases, but even he isn’t getting any answers.” The captain says, her face troubled. “It’s like there’s a serial killer at base.”

“Like playing Mafia, huh.” You joked.

“Exactly.”

You’re scared of what this could mean. If whoever it was plucking the recruits off like grapes were about to turn to privates, then it won’t be long before your ass is on the line. You have half a mind to help, maybe offer your insights on the investigations, but thanks to Roze and Izzy’s advice, you knew better than to get too close to the colonel…

Unless you want to get beaten by König with your incompetency—what he deems incompetency—since he loves doing things his way according to the soldiers who had worked with him.

It wasn’t enough to scare the rookies, however. They’re still chatty and happy, all of them seemed unaffected by these rumours.

Of course, they’d be unaffected, everyone is telling them that it’s just rumours and the soldier that disappeared had simply been discharged for wanting to leave or go back home. There were a few who didn’t believe it, but those with higher ranks – including you – were reassuring them that it was merely rumours.

That they shouldn’t really worry their pretty little minds about it. And what infuriated you the most was because it worked. They were gullible kids, as young as sixteen to nineteen—basically a six to three years old age gap between you and them. They should know better than to believe the honeyed words from yours or their superiors’ mouth.

But could you even blame them?

They’re just kids. You and the other high-ranking officers were older than them, obviously they would trust you. They expect all of you to guide them, showing them the real ropes of war and violence unlike the trial sessions they’ve had in boot camp and the infantry.

So, really the blame was on every high ranking official—including you.

Everyone from being a specialist to the general of the army were losing their shit over these incidents because KorTac was supposed to promote opportunity and valour, but how can you do that if your fellow soldiers – doesn’t matter what rank they are – are going missing like some monster was plucking them off of their rooms one by one or rather off of the hallways when they’re past curfew.

Curfew falls under your responsibility too, sergeants up to lieutenant colonels were tasked to make sure that every rookie or corporal has to be following the curfew or rather their curfew. KorTac had implemented the curfew for the rookies up to the corporals’ weeks prior to your official employment according to Roze.

The last thing the people who called the shots wanted was a widespread panic amongst their troops.

“Do you have any hunch as to who it might be?” You asked her curiously, wanting to know the captain’s thoughts.

“It could be that newbie before you, Phillip Graves, but he’s mostly out on missions. So, that checks him out.” Stiletto answered, looking at you. “Then there could be the possibility of it being Horangi.”

“Why him?”

“He’s too violent.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Stiletto laughs at your response, shaking her head as if you’re being silly. The captain was nice, in your opinion at least. She pats you back lightly like an aunt would when you remind her of your mom when they were younger. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, one where it makes you wonder just how exactly does Stiletto see you—a daughter, sister or maybe a friend. Either way, you were in her good graces and that’s enough to quell your curiosities for now.

The two of you were practicing alone in the firing range. Those at the lower ranks had gone to sleep or were forced to sleep since it was curfew for them.

The atmosphere had gone heavy.

It was light and cheery in the morning, but at night, the happiness and laxness of the vicinity disappears, and you and the rest of the soldiers with a higher rank are faced with the reality that someone was picking off all of you one by one like candies inside your granny’s bowl of strawberry candy that you don’t see anywhere in the grocery store.

You know, the one’s you get when one day you became a grandma – or great-aunt, or even an honorary old “auntie” – and these things just magically appear at the bottom of your purse. The ones that once they start spilling out of your bag, you’ll find an intricate cut-glass bowl or dish in the middle of your living room and your grandkids or kids would just come and go while pocketing a handful of them, and the refill is somehow always in your purse.

Stiletto hands you a rosary from her pocket. You looked at the long wooden beads coated with silver chains and designs before glancing at the captain. You took it gently, letting the coolness of the holy object cool your skin that wraps around it. Oh, it’s a sweet gesture. Now you have something to wear around your neck, a little good luck charm despite the fact that you don’t really believe in God or a higher being. Her head is tilted to the side, looking at you with an analysing glance as silence befalls the two of you.

“Why…?” You asked her underneath the fluorescent lights of the firing range, riffles forgotten at each other’s side.

Stiletto shrugs, sighing tiredly, “Maybe the thing that’s picking us off one by one would be scared of the Lord.”

“I doubt he exists.”

“He’ll save you in your time of need. He answered my prayers. Maybe He’ll answer yours too.”

“What did you pray for?”

Stiletto is quiet for a moment, looking away before looking back at you with worry. She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“That you would still be alive the next time I see you… that you wouldn’t be next, lieutenant.”

“You’re the lieutenant that Horangi had referred to the company, ja?”

A voice says with a German accent to it, and by Mary, Joseph, and the Babeh Jesus what an alluring voice he has. It was low and rough, a tad bit raspy—gravelly. You thought to yourself that if you were Persephone and you heard this voice coaxing you into the warm embrace of the Underworld, you too would have cartwheeled and backflipped into Hades’s lap. Leaving the nymphs and the flowers, and the warm sun to drown in the enticing embrace of the God of Death while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

You turned around, half a mind to fuck the brains out of this man until you saw who was speaking to you and all horniness came to a halt as you realized who it was.

König.

You glanced directly at his eyes briefly before averting you gaze, Roze’s warning echoing in your head. You nod your head, confirming his question. You tell him your name and rank, which country you came from, and basically any general information you can tell to confirm your identity. Konig nods his head at your words. His eyes crinkled—was he smiling underneath the sniper hood?—and you can hear a smug tone on his voice.

“Ja, leutnantin, I’ve read your files.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes glanced to the side, seeing some soldiers chattering at the end of the hall. Good. There are people around. A polite smile blossoms on your face, offering it to the colonel – just like you would whenever you bump into a senior officer. Your mind raced why he was suddenly talking to you.

HE BARELY RESPONDED SO WHY WAS HE SUDDENLT BEING A CHATTER BOX?! You internally panicked since he often responded in hums or grunts whenever you give your report, didn’t even glance at you whenever the two of you passed by each other.

So, why now?

“Did you need something, sir?” You asked him politely, tilting your head a little as you crane your head to look at him properly because holy shit, he’s so fucking tall.

“I do, actually, Schatz.” König responds, cold eyes gazing down at your smaller form. “I need your help with a… serious matter. Come with me to my office.”

His strides are big and long as you struggled to keep up with him as he walked down the halls. Your eyes glued to his massive thighs… and oh. The soldiers within the halls part like the sea as König passed by as if he was Noah. They all lower their gaze, chattering going to a halt until only the sound of the storm raging outside can be heard.

“So, why do we need to go to your office?”

But König doesn’t answer, and his hands balled to a fist. You can see the cloth crinkle as his grip dug into his palms, while he ignores your question. Which is, in a way, rude since you were simply trying to gouge out information as to why your colonel was summoning you to his office. You furrowed your brows at his actions.

“It’s the least I should know, don’t you think–”

“Are you always so noisy?”

You blinked owlishly at his words, the colonel barely looking or glancing at you as he continued to walk down the halls of KorTac. Your breath hitches in your throat as you register the slight annoyance in his voice.

He finally looks at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs. And oh god, his laugh. The mere sound of it makes your cheek warm and make both of your lips smile.

“The look on your face earlier is funny, Schatz. However, you’re a lieutenant, no? I’m sure that despite how young you are, you’re mature enough to know that there are classified things that can only be discussed within the confines of an office, ja?”

“I’m sorry, colonel. I didn’t mean to let it slip off of my head.”

You feel like winning the lottery, but the prize isn’t a billion bucks—it’s the fact that you haven’t angered the colonel, and he’s not bashing your head to the pavement or maybe stabbing you where you stand and tearing your flesh with his gloved hands.

You don’t notice the guilt that settles on your face… nor the look of softness and endearment on König’s face as he admires the look of culpability blossoms on you face.

The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with such an adorable shyness when you think that he would actually reprimand you for something so innocent. You were so little compared to him too, so fragile… so weak. He relishes in this power over you—power over your reactions and your expressions. You looked so eager to stay on his good side. So eager to please him in your own innocent way. Whether you intentionally do it or not, König is being pumped full of dopamine at just you talking to him.

He's had his eye on you for a long while. The moment you stepped foot on base, beneath the scorching sun of the tarmac, König wanted nothing more than to snatch you and make you his. Drag you away from KorTac, smuggle you to Austria and lock you away in his house by the sea shore, away from prying eyes.

Where he can have you all to himself.

But even his rank and reputation in KorTac couldn’t save or excuse his behaviour if he does that. Everyone would think he was a freak or someone creepy if he were to ever just scoop you up. The way your voice echoes when you bark out your orders to those inferior to you, the way it softens when you talk to your friends – especially to Horangi, and König s gnawing at the cages of his enclosure because he wished you would talk to him the way you would to Horangi.

He wants to talk again without addressing you formally, but he is awkward with connecting to people. Even when he tried to follow his psychiatrist’s advice in trying to open up to people, König still has a hard time trying to initiate a conversation. The words piling up in his throat—stuck there for the rest of eternity.

König doesn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the strong urge to grab yours—so tiny and adorable—and let his giant hand envelope it. You are pouting, gaze averted to the ground, cheek rosy from embarrassment, probably reprimanding yourself that you should’ve known better.

König isn’t sure if he wants you to be scared of him or not – and he hates that you are the first one to be an exception to his desires, because he wanted everyone to fear him. There is something dark, disgustingly predatory almost, in his thoughts as he watched you beat yourself up, but he doesn’t speak, and his fists are balled up because your voice and adorable face were too fucking much and he doesn’t even know how to talk to a girl in his adult years.

“C-colonel, we’re here.”

You hate that you stutter, but you can’t help it since your heart skipped a beat when you looked up and saw König looking at you with such softness and tenderness from his gigantic height. You had to take a deep breath, shaking your head at the delusion it’s not a delusion, you aren’t seeing things runnin in your head.

No.

That was wrong. That idea in itself would be wrong. The colonel was someone wise despite his violent tendencies. He would never entertain the idea of being with a fellow soldier. Not to mention bend the rules just to risk his position and rank. It would be stupid for him. It wouldn’t be worth it for him, and you just fucking know it.

“Ah… right. Bitte, wait a minute.”

You can see how miniscule the keys are to his hand, his form bending down a little and when he stood back up, he was at least three inches taller than the fucking doorway. He turns the lights on and gestures for you to step in. He closed the door behind you as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his gigantic desk.

The desk looked proportionate to his form, and the office chair he has accommodates him greatly and it makes your heart flutter because he looks like a king and all he had to do was give out his decree, and you would be scrambling to do said decree to please him because holy shit something about how big he is, is making your insides churn deliciously–

Wait. Bitch, you better stop. Your thoughts screeched to halt, smacking yourself internally because you’re sure you’re not yet in your ovulation week because you just finished your period four days prior… No, that’s not true, you lost track of your cycle due to the recent events that happened at base. The colonel was twiceyour size, and you’re not sure if you can take him.

Not in a fight, of course.

“So, about the recent events happening here at base, I’m sure you’re well aware of it by now.” König starts, leaning at the desk. “Soldiers are disappearing left and right, the younger ones wouldn’t take long before they stop buying our lies, and we need a way to stop whoever it is that is picking is off and making us drop like flies.”

He stopped, eyes roaming as if he’s analysing you.

“Hase, you are quite the prodigy that at such a young age you’ve managed to achieve the rank of lieutenant, and I am completely impressed.” König says, nodding to himself as if he’s proud of you. “Someone of your calibre would be of valuable help to catch the culprit or, rather, the creature that’s currently on the loose in base and hunting us one by one.”

“Creature? Don’t you mean person?”

“I’d like you to look at these and tell me that a human was behind these incidents.”

König slides you a dossier and you merely throw a confused glance at him before opening said dossier, and you almost–No. You do regret opening the fucking folder.

The entrails of the victims are chewed off and sprawled across the floor, the ground was a sea of blood. Some of them had missing parts, but mostly the torso was empty, intestines being the only thing left behind from the inside of the corpses, and there were a few where the eyes hangs out of its socket and runs down their faces like a veiny egg yolk. You want to look away, but you can’t. Some pictures showed the skins have been peeled off, most had been cleanly peeled off. Even the nipples were intact. Never to this day have you seen anything so horrible.

Finally, the urge to puke tore your attention away from the files, smacking it to the table as you swivelled your head away, and your mouth unhinged as the familiar disgusting liquid of your insides went past your throat. Before any of it could spill past your lips, a bucket had been shoved to catch it. König holds the bucket to your mouth. Meanwhile, you did nothing but vomit. Over and over again. Long after it seemed there was nothing more to bring up, you continued to vomit.

At last, after a good solid minute, you stopped. Tears prickled your face as puke-mixed snot went down your throat. König was kind enough to offer you tissues to help clean yourself up before he hands you a glass of water, and getting rid of your vomit.

“I’m sorry.” You weakly said. “That caught me off guard and I–” The words cut off in your thought as you shuddered as the pictures seared into your head. Well, guess this is my thirteenth reason.

“It’s fine, Schatz. Nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for someone to stomach such evidence.” He reassures you.

His giant hand rubs soothing circles on your back and it’s so comforting that you eventually calm down and catch your breath. The taste of bile still lingers and you downed glass after glass of water just to get rid of it but seemingly failing to do so. Yet it is nothing compared to the electrifying touch of König’s fingers that glide behind your back, passing by the wing ang hooks of your bra. Of course, he didn’t mean to do that he most definitely did intendes to do that because he was just trying to ease you out of your sickened state.

“I’m sorry.” You say again.

The pout on your lips was making you adorable and König was glad he was the way that he was right now. Had he been the same age as you, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would’ve pushed you down on his desk, giant hands spreading your legs, tearing your clothes, while he makes you beg for his cock–

“As I’ve said before, Schatz. It’s fine. We have to recompose ourselves from time to time. After all, we’re only human, no?”

You look up at him from where you seat, smiling softly at him. He was so nice. Your eyes flickered to his neck, and then on to his fingers. Seeing the lack of wedding band on him had you feeling butterflies. Was he not married? Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Was he ugly?

His baby blue eyes—like a mixture of storm grey skies and the heartless depths of the ocean—were a soft hint to the fact that he was handsome. You just know. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes scanned him over – in the most shameless manner, but that was fine. You can always chuck it up to you just analysing him.

“Now, Schatz.” His fingers wrapped around you chin, coaxing you gently to look up at him. “Lieutenant colonel Allard, Captain O’Neil, and I will be conducting a manhunt starting at 00:00 up until to 04:30 this Friday. Allard would be taking the North side of the base, I’ll be taking the South, and O’Neil would be taking the West area–”

You paid attention to every word he said, nodding your head every now and then. You kept your eyes locked to his, unaware of the growing tent inches away from your face in your colonel’s pants.

“–which is why I called you to my office.” His voice rips you out of your trance. “I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to lend out a hand in catching whatever it was that’s picking us off one by one?”

“Yes, sir.”

The way you responded with such speed had you internally clutching your pearls. You were so confused as to why you had agreed so easily without even asking for the details. Hopefully, your colonel would be kind enough to graciously brief you and the team before he sends you all out to play limbo with this culprit.

König smiles at your eagerness to help the team—to help him. The younger ones weren’t so eager like you; often having to be bribed with a reward just to help. But you? You said yes without any hesitation.

“Are you married, Schatz?”

“No, sir.”

“How come? Most female or male soldiers your age are married. Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t you?”

Your body tensed as your mind caught up with that loose mouth of yours, but before you could even stop yourself the words had already been uttered into the world. Holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of your superior needs to be fired. Like, bro, pick a different sim to fuck up. Please. You might’ve had the chance to be in his good graces, being offered promotion after promotion because König did say he’s read your files – he’s awfully touchy too, but maybe that’s because he’s comfortable around you. You might’ve had a chance of walking out the office, alive and healthy with nothing but a nod of a head and telling you to be prepared for the operation this upcoming Friday – but now you’ve said those words with such casualness that it doesn’t really suit the dynamic between you two, and could promptly land you to some punishments. You could–

The colonel chuckles, eyes closed as his shoulder’s shook, and the sound of it makes your cheeks flare with warmth.

“What gave it away, Schatz?”

Your body relaxed, seeing he wasn’t offended or irritated by your response.

“It’s uh… um, the lack of wedding ring, sir.”

“Oh? What an observant klein leutnantin.”

He looks at you, contemplating for a moment before König spoke.

“I have trouble finding a… suitable mate, if you will. Mutter often tells me that I’m a carbon copy of my father, which could explain why she’s so distant and hostile towards me. I don’t… I don’t know or saw the need to find a partner until… until recently.”

His gaze lands on you as he said the last two words. You furrowed your brows, wondering who or what could’ve changed his mind. With a tilt of your head to the side, you asked him a question that stems from his words.

“How come your mother hated you just because you looked like your father? You can’t exactly control your looks.”

“Because he was a monster who had forced himself on her, and forced her to carry his child – which would be me.”

Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t exactly expect the colonel to say it so casually, as if it’s a fun fact you’re telling to a kindergarten. You pursed your lips, looking away, feeling awkward and bad now that you had brought up the topic.

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t… know.” Was all you can muster.

“You seem to not know anything at all, Schatz.” He cooed at you. “It’s alright. You needn’t be sorry. How I was born is something I cannot control, but the outcome of who I can be is.”

König chuckles, walking over to pat your head affectionately and holy shit it has your heart racing.

“Growing up, the children my age shunned me. They had thrown rocks at me, calling me a monster. My mother did nothing to comfort me, dismissing me and shoving a sack to cover my face. I spent most times outside the house, often sleeping on caves by the waters or at the sand by the shore. The lake is something comforting, I must say… I miss it – yearn for it, if you will."

“Lake? Don’t you mean ocean?”

“My hometown was in Hallstatt Lake, Austria.”

His words ring a bell. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of Hallstatt Lake before. You tried to remember where you heard it, but couldn’t. Oh, well. If I can’t remember it, then it ain’t that important.

My father travelled from the ocean and dwelled by the lakes of that area. Then he saw mein mutter and... you know how that story went. Anyways, I have learned that I am… hideous. Therefore, that is one of the contributes as to why I am still, in your kind’s terms, single.”

“So you’ve never had partners before? Not even… I dunno… doing the devil’s tango? Sex?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, Schatz. They back out the last minute.”

You looked at him pitifully. He was a lonely man, wanting to have someone beside him and yet his self-esteem was so low. Maybe fucking him could boost his self-esteem. It’s not like I’m craving him, I’m simply helping. Maybe I could be the first to teach him the intimate touch of a woman. The comforts of the flesh. There was something about damaged men that are just so fucking hot. After all, it’s just a twenty-three years old age gap between König and I – Woah, what?! Pause. Your thoughts screeched to a halt, pinching yourself for letting it wander off that far.

How did it get to this?

How did the two of you get so comfortable to the point he’s literally just trauma dumping on you, and you’re lending an ear to listen. You should be walking out f the door, telling him this was unprofessional but you find yourself glued to the chair, heart going out to König as you empathize with him.

“I may not know what you look like under the mask, but mom did tell me that you can see if a person has a handsome or beautiful face is by looking at the shape of their eyes.”

“Oh? And what have you deduced from just observing my eyes, Schatz? Am I considered monstrous?”

“No, sir… I’d say you’re beautiful.”

König’s eyes widened at your words, his cheeks burning beneath the mask and he’s so fucking thankful that you can’t see his face or what he looks like underneath. His heart thumps louder than it did when he first saw you.

He is fighting the urge to invite you to move in with him to his quarters, keeping you all to himself. König’s sure that his bedroom is way more spacious and comfier than that of a lieutenant’s. The Austrian giant has to physically restrain himself from snatching you, and dragging you into the shadows with him where no one can rip you from his embrace – he can’t bear thinking about you being with someone else.

“Was it offensive… sir?”

“No, liebling. I just think you are blind.”

König would absolutely whisk you away right now. All you need to do was say the word, and he’d be following your words as if they are the ten commandments. He can and will buy you an estate if you want, just pick a place—preferably in Hallstatt, Austria—and that would be easy for him. König would love to just provide for you, to get to go home to someone as adorable and meek as you are – eager to succeed and be praised by the most little of things. You would be protected there. No one would ever disturb you.

His father was never there for his mother. Left nothing to support her other than trauma after he was hunted down by the townsfolk and brutally murdered. König tells himself that he would be different, that he would give you the world. You need only ask.

He understands that being delusional isn’t healthy, and that his psychiatrist would definitely shoot him with a Nerf gun for letting himself descend into this type of madness, but he was old.

And lonely.

And you’re just so sweet and so nice to him, going so far as to tell him he’s beautiful. And despite spending too much time in waters, König drowns himself in fantasies about you being in a giant house, welcoming him home after his deployment, pregnant and eager to kiss him sweetly. You who can be his everything. A cure for his troubles and woes, even though his psychiatrist had severely advised him to not put your partner on high pedestals because it is extremely unhealthy and co-dependent.

König knows he can’t just blurt shit out as he pleases, lest he scares you away. You would scream at him, call him a sociopath – or a psychopath if you aren’t as knowledgeable as him in the department of terms. He is only self-aware enough to know that he can lose you if he made one wrong move.

He’s old and tired. And he wants to experience fatherhood before he dies, preferably having you as his klein Frau. But he can’t rush you. He needs to bid his time. In that moment, König decided—regretfully so—to let you go back to your duties for the day.

He needed to get close to you than he ever did before—needed to work with you to have you close to him at all times.

“That would be all, liebling.” König says to you. “You are free to go now. I don’t really want to hold you up here for too long.”

“It’s an honour to be picked by you, colonel.” You chirp happily, eager to maintain this casualness between you two in hopes of getting promoted faster.

The giant, behemoth of a man watches you walk away from him, eyes glued to your hips and adorable, plump ass. Your frame still smaller than him even when you stood up to your full height. It was endearing to him. Soft blue eyes following your every move, watching you as you give him one last smile and a friendly wave before you closed the door shut behind you.

“I’d say you’re beautiful.”

Your words echoed in his head, making the older being flustered as he ran his hands over his face and sighed. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he knew he’d be clinging to that until the day he died.

“It shall be the day that the sun is at its peak when you find what you longingly desire. Once the sky is thick with water and the blood of warriors are spilled, the gods will give you a chance to converse with this creature. You should turn them away. Put them at arms-length, but you are a selfish being. You would devour them, drain them until they are merely husks because of your depravities… I pity this young girl.”

He recalls the stupid reading he had gotten from a so-called ‘wise woman’ twelve years ago in her quaint house at Wolfengasse street. Maybe that völva was genuine in her craft before she left Austria.

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