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#i just need to see him standing in his doorway to the back porch and smoking a cigarette
enfinizatics · 11 months
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severus snape smoking cigarettes.
severus snape brewing potions late at night with his sleeves rolled up.
severus snape reading chemistry books.
severus snape eating takeout during summer break while working on the course syllabuses for the upcoming school year.
severus snape listening to the muggle radio while preparing potion ingredients while humming softly.
severus snape having tea with his older muggle neighbor and discussing plants and gardening tips.
severus snape enjoying his freshly brewed coffee in the morning.
severus snape doing groceries in a local supermarket and always buying a bar of milk chocolate.
just domestic severus snape things.
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bratphilia · 6 months
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glass window (w. afton x reader)
request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"
note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age
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you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.
a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.
that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.
"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."
you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."
mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.
"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.
your dad turns to you. "how was class?"
"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."
his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.
steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.
he decides to make good use of his porch.
at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.
unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.
his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.
one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.
sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.
on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.
steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.
"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.
steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."
he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."
steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."
you look up at him. "what's that?"
he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."
"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.
"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"
you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"
"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."
he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control. 
steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you. 
slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now." 
you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.
"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on." 
you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core. 
steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy." 
you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly. 
"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.
"need it that bad, huh, baby?" 
"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him. 
"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile. 
he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.
you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.
he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.
he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.
"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.
you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.
he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."
the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.
he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.
"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."
"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.
"i will, honey, i will."
suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"
"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.
one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.
"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.
"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."
you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.
he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."
tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.
he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.
you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.
"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.
maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.
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bloompompom · 3 months
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Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT
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for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...
✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only
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Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did. 
If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor. 
“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day. 
The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough. 
The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target. 
The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation. 
“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up. 
You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.
He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”
If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it. 
Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride. 
The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom. 
You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye. 
It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?
Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.
In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.
“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”
“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.
Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?” 
“That’s you, not me.” 
“Only because of you.”
Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.
“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.
Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”
“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.
She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth. 
Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove. 
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After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder. 
But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up. 
He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week. 
So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie. 
“Hey.”
Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”
He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation. 
You bristled. “What do you want?”
He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”
“No, you can’t.”
Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”
You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.
“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed. 
“Who said anything about olives?”
It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.
You sidestepped him to leave. 
Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention.  He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa. 
“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”
Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it. 
“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”
That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival. 
“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”
You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half. 
“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”
On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.
What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined. 
Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.
Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace. 
“How did you know this was up here?” you asked. 
“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”
The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.
“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”
As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.
You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered. 
“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.
You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.
You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside. 
The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches. 
You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes. 
After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago. 
Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.
What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore. 
Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.
Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.
Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him. 
Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice. 
Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss. 
You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.
You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze? 
Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?
Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you. 
It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?
“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”
You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”
You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.
“Something like that.”
If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore. 
Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t. 
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You felt his words vibrate against your ear. 
“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”
Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat. 
You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”
You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well. 
“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”
He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is. 
You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap. 
“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.
Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”
He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”
You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.
“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”
“Still do,” you muttered. 
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly? 
No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this. 
A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”
Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.
You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self. 
The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing. 
At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did. 
“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.
When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it. 
Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his. 
Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.
You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once. 
Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him. 
When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy. 
He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.
Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples. 
He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.
His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling. 
Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it. 
Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.
You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended. 
His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye. 
“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”
Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.
“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.
“You asked.”
You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too. 
You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you. 
You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.
The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. 
You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss. 
Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.
A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan. 
“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.
It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway. 
Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him. 
He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements. 
Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.
Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.
Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.
With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination. 
You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.
“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.
Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.
You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft. 
Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half. 
You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about. 
More. You needed more.
You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you. 
You grabbed his wrist. 
“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”
A biting smile crossed Eren’s face. 
“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”
You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.
You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”
You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.
He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.
“You’re probably right,” he said casually. 
Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.
You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.
But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.
“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.
Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it. 
He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms. 
He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.
You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength. 
You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it. 
Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.
Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck. 
“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.
You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm. 
You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek. 
“I can’t hear you.”
He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant. 
You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him. 
“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it. 
You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.
Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.
Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.
“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”
The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit 
“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”
The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you. 
Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”
Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.
“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”
“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care. 
Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.
His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard. 
If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.
You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.
Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”
“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.
You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”
There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.
“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once. 
There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”
“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”
You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”
He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”
You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.
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as always, thank you for reading ♡
686 notes · View notes
yeollie-plz · 5 months
Text
Fix Me
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Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x F! Reader
Synopsis: Joel fixes stuff around your house, until Joel fixes you.
Genre: fluff, angst, smut
Warnings: Age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel is mid thirties), kissing, crying, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of trauma, oral f! receiving, 18+ smut, porn with plot, slow burn? (ok not really but), reader is a hot mess!, insecurities, unprotected sex (don't be like them!), spanking, masturbation
Gif credits to owners!
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The first time you met Joel was about a week after you moved in. Your house was directly across from his and for that week you would see him here and there. You had to admit you found him a bit attractive. You eventually wanted to go around the neighborhood and introduce yourself, instead he surprised you by coming knocking at your door.
Having just finished showering you weren't really prepared for visitors, wearing only a robe and your hair wet and stringy draped on your shoulders. So when the heavy knock rang on your door, you sighed, glancing down at your appearance. You debated if you could just ignore the knock, until another sounded.
Rolling your eyes, you decided there was no other choice but to answer. You swung the door open a bit too aggressively, finally looking at who was standing there. It was the neighbor that you had all but stalked this past week. Okay, you found him very attractive!
You blushed at your actions, seeing that his eyes widened at them as well. It seemed as though your neighbor also noticed your disheveled state, his eyes scanning over your figure. His held at your chest for a second longer before he met your eyes.
"Sorry, I'm Joel, I live across the way there." He motioned towards his place. "I just noticed that there was a hole in your porch and well I'm a contractor so..." He trailed off.
"Okay?" You said trying to urge him to get to his point so you could get back into your house. No matter how cute your neighbor was, he was not worth standing basically naked in your doorway for.
"I...um...thought maybe I could fix it for ya. I can just get it done quickly now. No charge, if I'm honest I've wanted to fix it for a while now."
"So, you came all the way over here to fix my porch?" You tilted your head in confusion. He nodded.
"I guess I have. So, darlin', do ya mind?" You tried to ignore the term of endearment and shook your head.
"I mean sure, that's fine...I guess." You whispered the last part, trying not to come off too taken aback. "I'm going to go look more presentable, you can go ahead and start." You motioned at your robe and Joel's eyes lingered once more.
You ignored it and stepped inside, closing the door behind you. You quickly sorted out your appearance. Before returning outside you stopped in your kitchen grabbing a cup and filling it with ice and water for Joel.
You silently opened your front door so you watch Joel work for a minute. You had found Joel attractive the moment you laid eyes on him, but something about watching the man work. The bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face as he concentrated on fitting a board into the hole. The bit of skin that showed at the hem of his shirt as he reached further to grab a tool. You shook your head ignoring the growing heat between your thighs and cleared your throat. Joel's head snapped up to you, whipping his brow as he stood.
"I brought you some water, its a bit hot today." You handed him the cup. He took it was a nod of appreciation.
"I'm Y/N by the way. I never introduced myself earlier."
"Nice to meet you darlin'. I've been waiting to finally learn your name." You tried to hide your shock at his statement. He chuckled and sat the cup on the little table you had there.
"I'm 'bout done here. You can go ahead and cool off inside. I'll clean this up. Let me know if you need anything else fixed, you know where I live." He said. You could've sworn you saw his eyes drop to your lips at the mention of fixing something else. No, that can't be, you decided. You had just met the man!
"Uh, sure. Thanks Joel." He winked at you and went back to his project, leaving you not only confused but also a bit hot and bothered.
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The weeks that followed, part of you wanted something to break so that you could talk to Joel again. You would see him go to work and come back, but you had no reason to really approach him. Some days you would sit out on your porch and watch him leave. His eyes would lock onto yours. This would earn you a smirk and small wave. To which you blushed and waved back.
One evening you got as bold as to check your mail around the time that he would be home. Lingering by your mailbox until you saw the familiar truck pull down the street into his driveway. That day he called out your name with a hello and you didn't stop thinking about it all night long.
You couldn't believe the way you were behaving. You barely knew Joel and yet you were entranced by him. He was almost your every waking thought. There was something in that manifesting though, as one morning you were making breakfast and a cabinet door came off one of its hinges.
You almost shrieked in excitement as you left the door hanging there. Later that night, you saw Joel's car pull up once more. You grabbed the plate of cookies you had made earlier and made your way across the street. This time you knocked on Joel's door. He answered with a surprised look on his face.
"Y/N?"
"Joel, hi! Um I wasn't sure how serious your offer to fix things was but my cabinet came off its hinges earlier and I don't have the correct screw so...I brought cookies." You held out the plate to him after your rant.
He laughed, "It was serious. Uh, I can come over Sunday to do it? It's been a long day." He rubbed the back of neck awkwardly.
"Oh! Of course! No problem at all!" Calm down, Y/N, calm down.
Another chuckle, as he finally took the plate of cookies from your hands.
"Thank you for these. Sarah will love 'em."
"Sarah? Your..." Your stomach twisted, did he have a wife? You had never seen a woman around.
"My daughter, chocolate chip is her favorite." Relief washed over you.
"Well, I hope you both enjoy them! My grandma's recipe, they are amazing, totally not biased!" He laughed and leaned against his door frame to take you in. A look of content on his face. Almost like he was weighing his options.
Fire sparked through your body and met between your legs at the look. Clearing your throat you spoke quickly, "So, I'll see you Sunday then! Have a good week, Joel!" You rushed back across the street just barely hearing his "You too!" being called out behind you.
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Sunday couldn't come soon enough. In the days between then and now you had been very very frustrated. Yes, sexually frustrated. Something about the way Joel looked at you went straight to your panties. He was very easy to fantasize about.
You fantasized about him coming over, the full intention of fixing the cabinet, but nailing you instead. Digging his fingers into your hips as he lifted you onto the counter, teeth nipping at your neck. He would drop to his knees, dragging your panties down with him.
You fantasized about pulling him by his collar into your bedroom, lips connected the entire time. Passion radiating off the two of you as you pushed him onto your bed. You swung your legs over his hips, straddling him. As you continued to crash your lips into his, grinding onto his hardening member. The feeling of his jeans through your thin panties, driving you insane.
You fantasized about taking a shower together. You fantasized about him taking you on the dining table. You fantasized about him taking you on that very porch you met, for all of the neighborhood to see. God, you fantasized about him fucking you anywhere and everywhere.
It was becoming a problem.
How were you supposed to face him when your toys had gotten the most use they ever had at the expense of him? You were fucked. Royally, officially, in every way.
So, when Joel finally did come over on Sunday the only thing that ran through your mind was an image of him inside of you. Which was causing a few attention issues on your part.
"Y/N?" He called through your daydream. He was leaning on your kitchen counter staring at you with his head cocked in amusement. You dragged your eyes down him muscular arm, following the veins to his hand. Your breath caught as you pictured him eating you out there, those fingers pumping in and out of you.
"You feelin' alright, sugar?" His amusement was now changed to light concern as you still weren't responding. Goosebumps rose on your skin.
You blinked and shook your head, attempting to wash the images out of your head. Shifting your weight, you pulled at your collar, suddenly feeling too hot.
"I-yeah, I'm fine. It was just a long week." The first excuse you could think of, yet it was sort of true. A long week of touching yourself to the man that was now standing in front of you.
"I hear that! Well I'm done here so I'll just head out and let ya relax." He smiles and pushes himself off the counter, collecting the last few of his things.
He had almost made it to the door when you called out his name, stopping him in his tracks. You weren't sure what had possessed you in the moment to give you this confidence.
"Can I, uh, ask you a question?"
"Sure, sugar." He smiled at you once again.
"Are you dating anyone?" His smile stayed but something different flashed behind his eyes.
"No, I'm not. What made you curious?" He was trying to read you now. He had that look on his face again like he was debating closing the distance between the two of you.
"Darlin'?" The question came when you didn't answer, he took a step towards you.
"No reason, really! I just..." You searched his eyes like he would give you an out.
A laugh, "Well if you do find a reason, let me know." And with that he left, leaving you cursing yourself in your living room.
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Spring came with the next month. And with spring came the thunderstorms. You had never been a huge fan of them, something about the booming sounds and sharp sparks of light always made your skin crawl. Your therapist was convinced there was a deeper reason behind the trauma but you hadn't been able to uncover it yet. All you knew was with thunderstorms came panic attacks and sleepless nights.
You would get up later in the morning, missing the opportunity to watch Joel get to work. And you were too busy bundled into a cocoon hiding from the storms at night to watch him return. Although you didn't know it, Joel was missing seeing you. So like a few nights before this he was watching your house, trying to catch a glimpse of you.
He had been jolted awake by a particularly loud crash of thunder, and after tossing and turning for a bit, he sighed and got out of bed. Originally going downstairs to grab a glass of water his eyes caught on your house when he noticed your bedroom light still on. Joel glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:45? What were you still doing up?
Watching your window for a minute, to see if you would switch the light out. That's when a big strike of lightening struck, knocking out all the power of the neighborhood. Joel rushed to his front door, not even bothering to put on some shoes and ran across the street to your house. He wasn't even sure why he was doing it but his body moved as if being controlled by someone else.
He got to your door, out of breath and soaked. That's when another bolt struck, the thunder following closely after it. But over all that he heard your scream. Without a second thought he turned the handle of your front door, finding it not locked.
Joel rushed through your house to your bedroom, following the sounds of your sobs. Opening the door without a second thought. You glanced up quickly, letting out another scream.
Joel held his hands up, "Sorry! I heard a scream and instinct kicked in. Your door was unlocked. I just...wanted to make sure you were alright."
"Joel." You whispered his name. Tears slid down your cheeks.
"Doll." He whispered back, testing the waters.
"I'm fine, just thunderstorms aren't my favorite thing in the world."
His eyes searched your own. "I can stay and talk with you if you need. That usually helps me."
You smiled, "Sure, that would be nice."
He walked towards the bed, about to sit on the edge of it when you stopped him.
"Wait! You're soaking wet, let me run you a bath!" You pushed yourself out of your cocoon and moved towards the bathroom. A hand around your wrist stopped you. It sent a spark through your body.
"Hate to break it to you, Sugar, but no power means no hot water. I should be the one drawing a bath for you anyways." His grip was light, like he was scared to hurt you. He noticed you looking at it and let go. "Sorry."
You shook your head, "You'll get sick all wet. Let me at least get you a change of clothes." Returning soon after with a stack of clothes.
"Here these are my dad's, should fit. There's towels in the closet if you need it." Handing them to him, you shrugged.
"Your dad's?" He took them with a bit of reluctance, insecurity washing over him.
"Mhm." You nodded, not noticing his change in demeanor and sat back on the bed. Eyes watching as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.
You looked up when he came back out, "How did it go?"
"It was a bit difficult in the dark but I managed." He stop there nervously, something still brewing in his mind.
You patted the bed next to you, silently telling him what you wanted. He took the hint and settled in close to you, but not touching. Sitting there in silence for a few minutes.
"I thought was were supposed to talk." You finally spoke up, intending for it to come off as a joke.
"You're right, sorry I just got in my head for a minute there."
You shifted your body closer to his, finally feeling his body heat radiating onto your own. It sent a shiver down your spine.
"Cold?" He asked. You shook your head no.
"Nope-" you cleared your throat, "-what were you in your head about?" An awkward silence washed over you as if he was debating telling you the truth.
Finally he sighed, "It was you giving me your dad's clothes."
"My dad's clothes?"
"Yeah, it just made me remember how much older I am than you."
It took you a second but you laughed. He gave you a sideways look. The look made you stop and blush at your inappropriate reaction.
"Sorry, but its a little funny. Its only like an eight year difference!"
"Nine." He corrected.
"Fine, nine. One year doesn't change that it isn't a big gap. The heart wants what it wants, isn't that the saying?" You hadn't realized what you said until it had slipped past your lips. "Uh-I mean..."
That's when Joel's lips crashed into yours, his hands fumbling around the sheets trying to find purchase of your hips. Your own finding their way around the back of his neck. His cold fingers made contact with your warm skin, causing a gasp to escape your lips. He took this opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth, taking control. Your fingers played with the hairs on the back of his neck.
Your lips moved in synch for a while, just feeling each other. The sexual tension that had been building for the past months finally coming to the surface.
"Do you want this?" He asked as he pulled away to trail his kisses down your neck. You nodded aggressively.
"Words, darlin'."
"I want this. I want all of you Joel." It came out breathlessly, you were barely able to find your voice.
He smirks into your neck, "Dirty girl."
At the name, you let out a whimper. His lips return to your own as he grinds his hips down. You feel his hard member graze your clit and you jerk up to meet his hips. You need him.
"'m not gonna last long, darlin'. I've been wanting to fuck you for weeks."
"Me too." You confirmed, blushing at his confession.
"Yeah? You been touching yourself to the thought of me?"
You nod.
"Show me." Normally this request would make you nervous, but something about the way Joel looks at you gives you confidence. And if this gets him to touch you then you'll do anything.
He backs off the bed to give you room. He towers over you now, watching you with hungry eyes. You pull your shirt over you head slowly. You want to give him a show. You stand now, pushing your pants and underwear down with a sway of your hips.
Turning around, you bend down to get your feet out of your pants, shoving your ass into Joel's crotch. He growls, actually growls at the action and lands a hand on your ass. Not enough to leave a mark or cause any real pain, but enough for you to lose your balance and fall onto your stomach onto the bed. His body now covers your own as he pulls your earlobe with his teeth.
"You gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to punish you?" The whisper is so gruff that it almost doesn't sound like him but goddamn does it turn you on.
"Mm, I'll be a good girl."
"Good, now show me how you touch yourself." He lifts his body off of yours and you flip over. Running your hands down the swell of your breasts, letting them linger slightly at your nipples, toying with them. Joel watches intently. You move them down your stomach and finally to your soaked lips.
Your index finger slides easily with the amount of slick you produced during your make out session. If you're being honest most of it is probably from when he whispered in your ear just now but!
You toy with your clit for a second, letting a moan push past your lips at finally receiving what you really need. You let your fingers tease your lips before pushing one inside yourself. The stretch being exactly what you need. Actually, exactly what you need is standing there palming his erection.
"Joel, need you." You moan out as you add another finger inside yourself. This is all he needs to pounce onto you once again and replace your fingers with his own. Now fucking you with his two digits, the stretch being so much more delicious than your own. He reconnects your lips.
"Baby, I need to be inside you now." He admits.
"Please." You are almost begging now. He pulls his shirt over his head quickly. Rising to his feet he undoes his pants and pulls them down. Leaning over you again, he kisses you, rubbing himself onto your wet core.
"Do you have a condom, sugar?" You shake your head no. "Fuck."
"It's okay, I'm clean and on birth control."
"I'm clean too. Are you sure?" His previous dominant attitude is now replaced with concern.
"Yes, I'm sure, I just need you now." He takes your word for it and pushes into you in one swift motion. Usually your wetness as to easily push in. He stretches you out completely, causing you to grab his bicep in a search for support.
"You okay?" He askes.
"Yeah, just need a moment. You're bigger than my toys." You give yourself a minute to adjust to his size. You feel your walls contract onto his member, your body wanting him to move. "Okay, I'm ready. Ruin me."
"With pleasure." And he does just that. He fucks you at a speed that almost feels inhuman. His hips meet yours roughly, sliding his cock almost fully to the tip and then bottoming out inside of you. Part of you thinks you'll have bruises tomorrow from how roughly he is thrusting into you, but honestly it will be worth it. Especially with how good you are feeling right now.
His pace falters a bit when you clench around him, "Fuck." He mutters. Regaining his pace quickly. "Told ya I'm not gonna last. Need to make you cum, baby."
You moan at his words and clench onto him once again, earning a slap to you thigh. His hand reaching up and fondling your breast, quirking the nipple with two fingers, causing your hips to jerk up meeting his trusts.
"Come on, baby, I know you're close." Those fingers now make their way down to your clit, working it in circles. You moan at the feeling, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.
With one particularly hard thrust, he hits that spot inside of you. The mixture of that with him toying with your clit causes the coil to snap inside of you and your body warms in your orgasm. Shuddering your hips move involuntarily as he fucks you through your orgasm. Only letting go of your clit with he decides you have had enough.
"There it is." He kisses you and begins to chase his own orgasm. "Where do you want me?"
Inside of responding you open your mouth and stick you tongue out. His eyes go even darker as he speeds his hips up. Joel gets himself to the edge before pulling out of you. You quickly sit up and wait for his cum. He grunts and shoots all of himself down your throat. You swallow dutifully.
He smirks, "Pretty girl. Don't let any go to waste." He runs his thumb across a bead of his spend on the corner of your mouth pushing it inside. You lick all around his thumb, sucking lightly.
"Fuck, darlin', you're gonna get me started again."
"Maybe I want you to." You look at him with hooded eyes, smirking.
"You're in for it now." He grabs your hips and pushes you down onto the bed, attacking your mouth with his own.
You didn't sleep that night either.
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712 notes · View notes
cal-flakes · 10 months
Note
please write more dealer!rafe idc what it is about i love that dynamic it was so cute !!!
you’re so real for this. i am LIVING for dealer!rafe right now. eeeeeeek
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╰┈➤ saved by dealer!rafe
warnings: drugs, violence, weapons, death. possible tw; implied sa (no description as it doesn’t actually happen)
summary: doing a favour for dealer!rafe takes a dark turn.
“wait, can you run me through it again? please? just one more time?” sighing, rafe cupped her face. “princess, you really need to remember this for me, okay?” y/n nodded, the innocent look in her eyes almost making rafe feel bad for asking her.
“barry here..” rafe pointed “is gonna take you with him to a deal, all you gotta do is sit and be extra pretty, okay?” he explained, his patronising tone going straight over her head.
y/n thought hard about what he said, nodding her head as he spoke. “okay!” she beamed.
“alriiiight, come on little girl, gotta be there on time..” barry sang from the corner of the room, sighing as he stood from the couch.
“yes sir!” she squealed, not really understanding the danger of what she’s about to do.
rafe squeezed her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a few kisses to his cheek.
loosening his grip, he peered over her shoulder to adjust her skirt, disgruntled by the short length.
she pulled away and followed barry to the door, a pep in her step.
“man i swear, if you let anything happen to her i’ll fucking kill you” rafe stated, pointing a threatening finger at his friend.
“chill out man, i’ll keep your little princess safe” barry mocked him, holding his hands up.
y/n situated herself in the passenger side, wincing slightly as her thighs stuck to the leather. the drive to the cut was comfortably quiet while y/n wracked her brain for what rafe wanted her to do.
barry glanced at her through his peripheral, sniggering to himself as she looked lost in thought.
“you forgotten already huh?” he smirked, mocking her. bowing her head, she nodded to the ground, picking up on his tone.
“all you gotta do, is sit there. okay? you sit there and don’t say a word, you’re just here to sweeten the deal. if they say anything to you, just be nice..” barry stated, gesticulating as he spoke.
“okay, just sit there..” y/n muttered to herself as they closed in on the porch.
the house, or shack, wasn’t anything y/n was used to. she wasn’t particularly stuck up, she had just never spent much time on the south side of the island, and that was set in stone once she got with rafe.
barry knocked a couple times, the look on his face was almost nervous, a small frown settled on his lips.
a disheveled looking man opened the door, ushering them in. y/n followed closely behind barry, avoiding the man’s prying eyes. the living room was a mess, she struggled to step over the countless empty bottles littered around.
“so, you got my money bare?” the strange man rasped, standing in the doorway sheepishly.
“yeah man, i got your money, but i wanna see the goods first..” turning his head, the man nodded to someone in the hallway.
narrowed eyes closed in on the pair as eerie footsteps sounded around the room. another man, just as strange looking, appeared in the room, duffel bag in hand.
the bag was placed on the table roughly, the silence in the room becoming awkward immediately. y/n picked at her nails, away in her own little world.
the men swapped bags, barry counted the pile of little packets while the other two counted the money. they whispered amongst eachother, their words muffled by the rustle of baggies
suddenly, barry perked his head up, his eyes meeting the knife that had been pointed at y/n. her breath hitched as she clocked it, failing to back up any further against the couch.
“hey man, what the fuck are you doing?” barry snapped, standing up without hesitation.
“you’re missing two-thousand dollars barry..” he sighed, throwing his head into his hands, mentally cursing himself for not double checking rafe’s bag.
“you wanna go get us our money barry, or this one’s not getting out of here alive..” the man motioned towards y/n with the blade.
“nah man, leave her out of this” he uttered, holding a shaky hand up.
“call your buddy, get us our money” the other guy demanded, reaching forward to pull y/n out of her seat.
she let out an ear piercing scream as she was dragged out of the room. barry groaned as her shrieks were muffled by a closed door, having been taken into the bathroom.
“balls in your court bare, get cameron down here with our money, and neither of you get hurt”
barry dialled furiously, “c’mon man, answer the fucking phone” he murmured into the phone.
“rafe! you gotta get down here, right now man” he whispered, “they’re keeping her hostage man, they know about the missing money”
“fuck!” rafe yelled.
“please! let me out!” a high pitched plea erupted from the bathroom. “shut the fuck up bitch!” their voices could be heard through the phone, igniting a burning feeling in rafe’s chest.
barry leapt from the couch, lunging at the man in the room, taking him down with a thud. heavy fists we’re thrown as the two men scuffled around the room, destroying furniture in their wake.
the screams and shouts went on for a while as barry struggled against the man.
the front door burst open as a shaking rafe stood in the door way, chest heaving. “barry! help me! please!” y/n yelped again.
without hesitation, rafe kicked the door open with a crazed look in his eyes. the man had y/n pinned to the wall, trailing a knife along her neck.
from what he could see, she hadn’t been physically injured, but the thought alone was enough for rafe to snap.
he lunged forward, dragging the man to the floor, knocking the knife out of his hand. y/n wailed as they struggled on the floor.
“gun! y/n grab the fucking gun!” rafe bellowed, startling her. nodding through the tears, she pulled the gun out of his waistband.
he stuck a hand out hastily, reaching for the gun in her shaky hands. quickly cocking it, he didn’t give the man a chance before putting a quick bullet in his head.
y/n’s hand covered her mouth as she wept, in a heap on the floor. breathlessly, rafe hurried to her side, scooping her onto his lap.
“i’m gonna get you out of here princess, c’mon angel..” he breathed, lifting her into his arms.
“you good bare?” he shouted, stopping for a response. a sweaty barry appeared in the door way, unconscious man left behind. “all good here bro, let’s fucking go!”
rafe placed y/n in the car carefully, wiping her tears. “it’s okay princess, i’ve got you now, it’s okay..” he cooed, meeting her glassy eyes as he spoke.
arriving back home, he carried her through the house, placing her on the couch. “stay still for a second angel, im gonna clean you up” he said soothingly, rubbing his forehead as the guilt set in.
“rafe..” she let out a shaky whimper. “yeah?” he stopped in his tracks. “please don’t, sit with me..” she cried.
“whatever you need baby, i’m here now, you’re safe with me” he whispered, pulling her into his side.
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whxtedreams · 7 days
Text
Those damn puppy eyes
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Inspired by rupi kaur poem
They should feel like home A place that grounds your life Where you go to take the day off - The one (the sun and her flowers - page 180)
word count: 1.5k
Pairing: neighbour!joel x reader
tags: sad!reader, reader just needs a hug, crying, comfort!, hurt & comfort, cuddles, soft kiss, mentions of love, rejection letter, joel miller (pedro) and his puppy eyes will be the death of me, two idiots in love, joel really loves cookies, joel is the king of comfort, soft!joel, photos are for aesthetic purposes only, reader has no description
A Poet's love masterlist - Main masterlist
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Your feet are plastered to his front porch, your hands heavy as they hover at his door. You want to knock, to hear his footsteps beyond the door as they race towards you. You want to hear his voice as he calls out that he’s coming. You want to see the smile on his face when he realises that it’s you that’s standing before him. 
What you don’t want is for him to see you in the state you’re in. You don’t want him to see your tear stained cheeks. The whites of your eyes strained red from the time spent crying on your couch. You don’t want him to feel your damp sleeves, where you’ve tried to wipe away the evidence of your own emotions.
Your chest burns, your eyes sting and your heart shattered.  
But you want him.
What you wanted was to walk into his house like any other night, to hear Sarah upstairs listening to her music on full volume as Joel shoves a pre-made dinner in the oven with his headphones on, drowning out his daughter's music. You want to scare him as you wrap your arms around his middle while he has his back to you, feel him jump in your arms. Hear his huffed laugh as he turns around and kisses your forehead, telling you once again you’re going to give him a heart attack one of these days.
Tonight however there is no music playing in the house. There’s no pre-cooked dinner and there’s no possibility of a heart attack. 
Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you reach for it, opening the text from Joel. 
OMW home now darl. Sarah wanted to stick around and chat to her friends. Her team won tonight so shes a little high on adrenaline, get ready for her talking ur ear off tonight ;)  bringing home pizza, cant wait to hear about ur day!
A tear slips down and lands on the screen and a soft sob rattles through your body. Of course he’s not home, how could you forget? Sarah had her semi finals tonight, she had been so excited about her first big game last night. 
You shove your phone back in your pocket and walk the short distance back home, not wanting to ruin Sarah’s night. 
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Your phone buzzes again where it sits on the coffee table in your lounge room. The pillow you lay your head on is damp, your tears soaking the material as you lay in silence, your heart heavy. You know it’s Joel, wondering where you are but you don’t want to answer him. 
The letter sits beside your phone. The letter you thought was your acceptance into the culinary school you applied to but turned into informing you they had declined your application. 
Your front door opens and Joel’s voice fills the air, the sound of his boots shuffling on the doormat as he rids his shoes of any dirt before he enters your house. “Babe?” He calls out as he shuts the front door. “You get any of my texts? Got me all worried-” His words stop as his feet still in the doorway of the living room as he sighs.
He walks around the couch and gently lifts your legs off the couch before he sits down with a huff, placing your legs over his lap as he settles on the couch. His fingers run over your legs and he sits in silence as you sniffle into your pillow.
“The letter came today?” He asks after a moment, already knowing the answer and you nod without looking at him. 
His hands still on your legs before they squeeze and you finally tilt your head to look at him. “No matter what they say, you know Sarah and I are always going to be proud of you. You’re amazing at what you do darl’, they’d be fools not to see that.” 
You nod, a lopsided smile forming on your face before you sink back into the pillow. “I know, I just really wanted this.”
Joel leans over you then, pushing you slightly to fit behind you on the couch. His arms wrap around you as you shift to make room for him. His chin rests on your shoulder, his legs wrapping around yours and pulling you tight against him. 
He pulls you close to him and wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tightly as the warmth of his touch sinks through you. You sink into him, your mind and body relaxing as his arms hold you close to his chest, the heat of his body surrounding and grounding you as the weight of the world seems to slowly lift off your shoulders. Your body shudders at the touch, as though he's somehow absorbing all of your negative emotions and easing the anxieties that lay heavy in your heart. 
“I know you did and I’m so sorry baby. We’ll find you another school, yeah? Someone that appreciates your talents.” His mouth kisses your shoulder as he talks and your body relaxes, believing his words once more. 
He always does this, always seems to know just what you need, just what will make you feel better, better than any medicine or solution or remedy could ever do. A simple touch is more than enough to calm your worry and soothe your anxieties, to remove all of your worries and fears and to convince you that everything will end up right, as it should be. A few words and a tender smile and you're able to believe in the things that he says, able to believe in the fact that everything will work itself out and that you have nothing to fear.
“I love you.” You sigh and you feel his body shake behind you, a soft chuckle in your ear. 
"I love you too, darl," he says, his hand rising over your chest and landing just over your heart, your hand rising to meet his and interlocking your fingers with his. The warmth of his body is enough to overwhelm you, the love that you feel rising through you as you hold onto his hand and feel his touch on your chest, your hand gripping tightly as your heartbeat speeds up slightly at his touch.
You move your head and look in his eyes that glisten with adoration as he looks at you. 
Those damn puppy eyes. 
He leans in and lands a soft kiss on your lips, the gentleness of the kiss enough to make your breath catch in your throat, your hand tightening around his as all your thoughts and emotions flood from your mind at once. Every time he kisses you, it feels like perfection, as though your souls are meant to come together in this moment, two halves finding each other in the space and the time where they belong. He feels like home, wherever he is becomes safety and warmth and comfort that fills you from the inside to the outside and back again.
He leans back, breaking the kiss and leaning his body back as well. His grip doesn't let up, however, and he looks down at you with a warm smile, a look of genuine affection and care and tenderness on his face as he watches you. You never want to leave his embrace but your stomach aches from hunger and you smile back up at him. 
“You mentioned pizza?”
He scoffs and shakes his head, pushing himself up from behind you, a mock offended look on his face and a slight pout that borders on the verge of a smile. "Oh, so you did get my texts?" His voice is light and playful, a tone that makes the pout of his mouth even more evident as he tilts his head to the side slightly, giving you a look of mock disappointment.
“I’m sorry, what can I do to make it up to you?” You ask as he pulls you up from the couch and pulls you right up against his side, his arm wrapping around you tightly as he pulls you close,
His smile turns wicked as his lips ghost over your ear. “I think you know exactly how to make up to me.” 
Your smile mirrors his as your turn to face him once more.
“Chocolate chip cookies, right?”
His eyes close as he leans his head on your shoulder, a soft moan escaping his chest as his body relaxes. He leans his head back slightly, his eyes opening again, but his eyes are soft and warm as he looks at you, a fond smile on his face. "You know me so well," He whispers to you, the softness of his voice enough to make you melt into him as he holds you tight.
And you suppose that you do know him, that you know him as well as you can know the feeling of home. The warmth that you feel when you are with him, the comfort that spreads through you whenever he is close, all feels like home. He is home to you, the place where you feel as though you can let down your guard and be your true self, the place where you can take a deep breath and relax.
Because he’s the only one for you.
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Notes
it's been over two months since i've updated this fic yikes im sorry. These two have my heart and i just want the best for them.
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259 notes · View notes
Text
Porcelain Steve - Part 2
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine
There's commotion from the house, loud enough for Eddie and Robin to hear it outside. Both turn towards the house, Robin halfway to standing up already, and the door is pushed open, El falling through it to get outside.
Someone calls El's name from inside, but she doesn't even turn around. She marches across the lawn to Eddie and Robin. "They are too loud and angry in there. Take me somewhere else."
Joyce makes it out the door next and with a raise of her hand behind her, one finger up, she stops everyone in the doorway. She descends the steps of the porch and Eddie is in awe about how much power she wields because no one follows after. Not even Dustin, who is the absolute worst at following orders.
"Whatever you need," Eddie answers El. He doesn't think she's blinked since exiting the house.
"We can go to Steve's," Robin offers. She's standing now and roots in a pocket of her jeans before pulling out a keychain with three keys on it. "Maybe it'll help being around all his stuff?"
"We can take my van," Eddie offers.
"That would be great," Joyce says, reaching out and grabbing one of El's hands in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Come on, let's get some shoes on."
"Thank you," El says, shooting Eddie a smile before her eyes drop down to look at Steve. A frown returns to her face before she turns and heads back into the house with Joyce.
Robin turns to Eddie, offering a hand to him. She's probably offering to pull him up, but he holds Steve out to her instead. He doesn't understand why she looks surprised at that, but she takes Steve, cradles him close to herself like he had done earlier.
Eddie climbs into his van, starting it and reaching over to turn the dial on the radio down so it's not blasting at the loud volume he keeps it on. Robin hovers with the passenger door open. "You getting in, Buckley?"
"Yeah, eventually. Just thinking if I should crawl in the back. Let Joyce and El have the seats?"
"Oh. Yeah. Probably."
She's absently petting Steve's hair, eyes slightly misty. He watches as she blinks away the tears before letting out a big sigh. "I just want to pass Steve off to whoever will be wearing a seatbelt. I've seen how you drive, Munson."
Eddie catches the teasing tone in her voice and laughs. "Fair. I'll take corners about 3 miles per hour slower than I normally do."
Robin laughs. "That's probably still ten above the speed limit."
"You should not speed," El's voice makes both Robin and Eddie jump. She's standing just behind Robin, and a quick look around shows Joyce on the porch, a worried look on her face but she makes no move to step off the porch.
"Is your mom coming?" Eddie asks. A complicated set of expressions crosses El's face and he's worried he might have asked the wrong thing somehow but then El answers.
"No. Just me. I will sit in the center," She slides past Robin and crawls up onto the bench seat of Eddie's van, scoots across the seat until she butts up against Eddie, and searches for the seatbelt before securing it.
"Here," Robin holds Steve out to El, who takes him, before Robin pulls herself into the van, shutting the door and buckling herself in.
Eddie doesn't go immediately because he's a bit busy watching El look at Steve. She's holding him like she's not sure how. She wraps one hand around an arm and his waist and uses the other to poke a porcelain cheek, right over the two moles just below his cheek bone. He can see the creases of a frown on her face.
"Are you okay, El?" Robin asks, which is good because he was about to, and he thinks his voice will come out more watery.
"I...," El looks up to Robin, then back down to Steve, "I do not know."
It hits Eddie like a freight truck just how young El is. He has to put the van in gear and drive to give his mind something to focus on or he's going to do something stupid, like bear hug El and ugly cry into her grown out buzzcut.
"Hey, that's okay," Robin says, "it's okay to not know how you're doing. This is a complicated situation."
"I barely know Steve," El says, which surprises Eddie. They all seem close, so much so that Eddie still feels like an intruder at times. Still, there is a tone to her voice that seems off to Eddie. "We do not have a reason to hang out. Not like everyone else. Lucas plays basketball with him. Dustin and Max claim him as their brother. Even Erica-"
El stops talking abruptly. Eddie glances towards her but she's staring down at Steve, so Eddie flicks his eyes to Robin, who is already looking at him and making an 'I don't' know' gesture with her hands before Eddie returns his eyes to the road.
"Mike does not care for Steve much," El continues suddenly, the tone still there and Eddie feels like he knows it, "I spent so much time with Mike that I think I did not care for Steve, either. Not on purpose. But- but in a way that you do not care about a thing because it is not important in your life?"
No one says anything else, because what can they say? Shortly after, Eddie pulls into the driveway of the Harrington residence behind Steve's Bimmer. "Alright ladies. Once more unto the breach!"
They crawl from the van and Robin unlocks the door. El and Eddie step through first. El moves into the house, clutching at Steve like he's her favorite stuffed toy. Robin freezes in the doorway, looks like she's not even breathing.
"Buckley?" Eddie is whispering and he doesn't know why.
"Sorry, sorry," Robin exhales a shaking breath. "It's just- Nancy and I- sorry. Uh, El, do you need us to do anything?"
She glides past Eddie to catch up to El and he is left to close the door. He wonders if, maybe, Robin should have also stayed at the Byers-Hopper home. It had been her and Nancy that had come to check in on Steve just this morning. It wasn't unusual to not hear from Steve sometimes (everyone needed their time to just be alone) but today must have marked Too Many Days for Robin because she'd called Nancy for a ride, and they'd found this. A locked house, Steve's car still here, and resting against the pillows of Steve's bed had been the porcelain replica. Nothing out of place, no ransom notes, nothing to make it seem like nefarious going ons had been taking place. Just the Harrington house, devoid of a flesh and blood Steve Harrington.
Coming back must be surreal.
"Eddie, you okay?"
"Oh, uh, yeah," Eddie startles a little. He'd been lost in his own head for a moment there.
"Can El have your bandana? She needs something to use as a blindfold."
"Yeah," Eddie moves through the house, to the living room where El has sat herself on the floor in front of the TV. Steve is lain in her lap, a mirror of the image Eddie must have made on the front lawn. He pulls the bandana from his pocket, folding it diagonally before offering it out to El.
She takes it, eyes flicking up to Eddie's. She looks sad. "Can you make the TV staticky?"
"On it."
Robin closes all the blinds and curtains, making the house a bit darker and Eddie gets the TV on, white noise filling the room.
They sit in that white noise for what feels like an eternity but when Eddie checks his watch, is actually about 22 minutes, before El suddenly yanks the makeshift blind fold off with a frustrated huff.
"It is not working!" She shouts.
Eddie looks to Robin, but she looks just as lost about all this as Eddie feels. Well. Eddie's always been good with kids. He'll make the attempt. "El, you said earlier you didn't know if you were okay. Maybe figuring that out will help? It can't be easy to get into the right headspace with other thoughts floating around. "
She looks down at Steve, then back to Eddie. Her eyes are wet. "I am scared."
Eddie nods, "me too. This is scary."
"I am scared I will not find him," she says, then drops her voice to a whisper to continue, "but I am more scared that I will."
He really wishes Joyce would have come with. Or Hopper, Jonathan, Will, anyone who actually knows El. He thinks she need a kind of comfort he and Robin cannot provide. "Well, El, what's the part that's really scary?"
She's quiet for a long time. "Steve has never needed saving before. Not by me. What if I can't?"
"Oh El, it's not on you to save him," Robin says, sliding off the couch to be on the floor with them. She must have more information than Eddie about why El would say that, which makes since, because Robin was part of the conversation when they'd decided to have El try and reach out to Steve. "It's not fair that it's only you that can do this, but we didn't ask expecting you to fix it. That's not the pressure we meant to put on you. All we want is a confirmation. And if you can't, that's okay, too. That'll be okay."
El frowns, bottom lip quivering before she reaches down and picks up Steve, shoving him into Eddie's arms before she launches herself at Robin, arms around her neck and burying her face into Robin's neck. Robin looks startled, eyes wide going to Eddie. He pulls Steve to his neck, in an imitation of the position El is in, then hugs him with one arm and uses his other hand to pet at Steve's hair, trying to make meaningful eyes contact with Robin. She gets with the program, hugging El and petting the back of her head.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. You want us to call Joyce or Hopper over?" Robin soothes, her body now gently rocking with El in her lap.
There's a muffled, quiet 'no' from El but that's it. She doesn't say anything else, or move, for a couple minutes.
El pulls back finally, away from Robin to sit up straight. "Okay. I am ready again. Please hand me Steve."
He does, belatedly realizing he was still cuddling and petting Steve. Oh. He really hopes that if Steve is the doll, that he doesn't have any sort of touch receptors going on. That'll be embarrassing.
Steve settled in her lap again, blindfold back on, El tries again.
It takes about two minutes before Eddie watches a bit of blood trickle out of her nose. He shoots a worried look to Robin before lifting a hand, intent on reaching out to El, but before he fully extends his arm, Robin stops him with a shake of her head.
Another eternity passes before El gasps and pulls the blindfold off.
"What happened? Did you find him?" Robin asks.
El looks from Robin to Eddie, then down to Steve, then back up to Eddie, a small smile on her face. "Yeah. He wants me to tell you 'thank you, for taking the time to explain because Dustin never does.' He said you would know what he was talking about?"
"Holy shit." He and Robin say it at the same time. Robin scrabbles over the couch, rather than around it, and dashes out of sight. Eddie doesn't think he could make his legs work if he wanted to. Steve can hear them. (Ha Dustin!)
El deposits Steve into Eddie's arms. "It is him. He does not know what happened, either. He can hear and see. He appreciates that you did not let the sun blind him."
"El, you are the most amazing person I've ever met," Eddie says and watches the grin grow on El's face. "Alright. Well, the first step to a solution is knowing and now we know."
Robin pops back into view behind the couch, "everyone is on their way here now. I tried to tell Will we'd go back to them, 'cause y'know, less people and cars to worry about but I guess they want the base of operations to be here. How mad do you think Steve would be if I got copies of my key made for everyone?"
"I can ask him," El offers.
"Nah," Eddie grins, "it's always better to ask forgiveness than permission. And you'll forgive us, won't you, Stevie?"
Steve, of course, does not answer, but it does settle something inside Eddie knowing that he hears the question.
Steve's a doll. They know that for sure. Now, they can find a solution.
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summerslashers · 8 months
Text
Invitation: Thomas Hewitt x Reader
Summary: Part two to Beginning. Thomas comes over to your house to give you a special invitation.
Warnings: None
Author’s Note: I’m sorry these are so short. I get terrible writers block :/ I hope you like it though
You sighed and used the back of your hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead. You had been moving and unpacking boxes all afternoon, and there were still plenty of them laying around the house or sitting on the porch, several too heavy for you to move on your own. You decided to take a quick break and make a pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade to cool yourself down. You immediately got to work cutting and squeezing lemons, creating a simple syrup, and combining it all in the large pitcher before filling it to the top with water. You were just finishing cleaning up the kitchen when a loud knock startled you.
You walked over to the front door, opening it to see a familiar half-masked face, the man taking up almost the entirety of your doorway. He stood there awkwardly, his fingers twitching at his sides- a nervous habit of his. You smiled up at him brightly.
“Thomas,” you said warmly. “It’s really nice to see you again. Please come in if you’d like-”
He hesitated for a moment, looking into your gentle eyes that gazed at him so fondly. Everything about you invited him in, and despite his nerves, he found that he couldn’t say no to you. Instead, he nodded and you stepped aside, allowing him ample room to join you in your small kitchen/ dining area. You shut the door behind him.
“I just made some lemonade.” You smiled and stepped into the kitchen, an open area to the left of your front door. “Would you like a glass?”
Once again, he seemed uncertain, fidgeting with his hands and struggling to make eye contact. He wasn’t used to being offered nice things. He really didn’t know how to respond. Of course he wanted some lemonade, but he didn’t want to bother you. You could tell that it was worrying him, and you offered a sympathetic smile the next time his eyes met yours.
“I’ll pour you a glass, okay? I promise I don’t mind.” He nodded and you filled two tall glasses with ice, pouring a generous serving of lemonade in each one.
You walked over to him with a glass in each hand and offered him one. He accepted it with a grateful look in his eyes, bringing it to his lips and gulping down the entire glass. You smiled, happy that he liked it. You offered to pour him more, taking the glass gently from his hand and walking back to the counter where the pitcher sat.
“Sorry about the mess in here.” You refreshed his ice and filled his glass to the top with lemonade. “I still have a lot to put away.”
There were boxes strewn about the floor, some half unpacked and others not even opened yet. Each had different labels on them in your handwriting for the different rooms in the house. You returned his glass, taking a sip of your own and savoring the cold, sweet drink.
“So,” you smiled, standing in front of the large man. “What brings you over?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper, handing it to you. You set your drink down on your small dining table just behind Thomas. Then, you opened the note, and in a familiar handwriting- the one from the back of Thomas’ baby photo- it read, ‘We’d love to have you over for dinner this evening. 6 o’clock. -The Hewitt Family’.
You grinned up at Thomas. “I’d love to join your family for dinner.”
Tommy felt a familiar warmth in his chest. Your smile never failed to give him butterflies or bring a blush to his cheeks. He was happy- more than happy that you accepted the invitation to dinner. He was sure his mama was going to love you. How could she not? You were so wonderful and kind and caring. Besides, the whole family was appreciative of the cookies you made and mama thought the flowers were very cute.
“I just need a little bit of time to get ready and I’ll be there,” You glanced over at the clock. You had about three hours. You looked around at the boxes in the house. You were hoping to finish unpacking today, but you supposed it could wait. There was one slight problem though.
“Hey Thomas?” You looked up at him, suddenly a bit anxious. “Could I maybe ask a favor of you?”
Thomas looked back at you with soft eyes and nodded. Of course you could. You could ask him anything.
“Thank you so much,” you smiled. “Before you go, I was wondering if you could help me move these two boxes inside? They’re sitting on the porch and I’m having a really hard time moving them myself-”
As soon as you said the words, Thomas went to work immediately, stepping out and onto your front porch. You followed behind him with a happy skip in your step, pointing to the two boxes that sat over by the railing. He nodded, lifting them both with a sharp exhale through his nose. You gaped at him, finding yourself at a complete loss of words as heat rose to your cheeks. Those boxes were very heavy, and he picked up both like it was nothing. You stepped out of his way as he entered the house.
“You can just set them anywhere,” you told him.
He set them down gently near your small, circular dining table, standing back up with a small huff. His eyes met yours and you beamed at him, making his heart skip a beat. You were too cute.
“You’re so strong, Thomas. Thank you so much for helping me.”
He felt that oh so familiar warmth in his chest when you complimented him. He was often criticized for his brute strength rather than praised. People who met or knew him would call him things like ‘monster’ or ‘animal’, but when you called him strong, he knew you meant it in a good way. It made him happy.
The two of you parted ways after you thanked him several more times for his help and let him know that he was more than welcome to come over anytime he wanted. Then, three hours later, you were showered, dressed nicely, and standing on the porch of the Hewitt home with a hot apple pie.
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mintmatcha · 1 year
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The doorbell rings and you don’t think anything of it.
Why would you? It’s the doorbell.
In fact, you don’t even think to answer it until it rings again, then a third time.
You slide from your seat in the kitchen, eyes never leaving your phone as you pad over to the door. When you open it, it takes you a second to process that the man in front of you isn’t some underpaid delivery man, but a familiar face.
Gojo stands there, hands on his hips so nonchalantly that you almost believe he’s a ghost, a sign your misery and loneliness have finally broken you. He stands there like it hasn’t been months since he disappeared, like he belongs on your porch, a statue carved from snow white marble given to you like a gift, a blessing from a god that you don't deserve.
Neither of you move. He’s so still that you think maybe he is a ghost, come to haunt more than just your memories.
Finally, he jerks a chip towards you, eyeing your hands. “Did you make any coffee for me?”
You drop your mug and your phone. One of them shatters, liquid and glass exploding at your feet as you step towards him. He says something as he reaches for you with a creeping smile, but you can’t hear it; your ears are ringing from the shock.
When his hand’s cup around your cheeks, the only think you can think of is the wide spanse of his fingers. They are built long and lean, perfect for piano if he had lived a different life, yet they are still thick and strong, perfect for squishing the fat of your cheeks between his knuckles. The tighter he squeezes you, the more pulls you expression together, forcing your lips into a gentle pucker. He plays with your face like a toy, trying to work a smile out of you one way or another.
The pads of his palms are surprisingly calloused, a rare sign of wear on his otherwise untouched body. That’s new. That’s something you’ve never felt before.
“Now, why are you cryin’?” Gojo coos, the end of his sentence breaking into a laugh. Somehow, his eyes are brighter than you remember, shimmering and bright with every cliche ever written. They are oceans and gems and skies, the feeling of freedom and the color you tried to paint your front door months ago, but failed to find the perfect shade.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” Your voice breaks in your throat. This time, when he laughs, it’s sad.
“Come on now, snowball- you really doubted me?” His thumbs brush away the hot tears that have begun to spill down your cheeks,  “No need for tears. I’m right here.”
He presses his forehead into yours, the cartilage of his nose smushed into yours, and for the first time in weeks, in the doorway to your apartment, you feel at home.
“Of course I came back.”
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Carpe Noctem 34/End
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)
Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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You sit in the idling car, holding your hands up to the heater as it blasts. You glance up at the house, anxious. Should you go check on him? Or maybe… you look at the keys. You can just drive away. Alone.
Too late for all that. Just as your mind wanders down the country roads, Lloyd appears in the doorway. He tramps across the porch and bounds down the steps, his shoes kicking up dirt as he struts towards the car. 
He opens the door and swings himself in with a grunt. His knuckles are purple and swollen, his upper sleeve stained with even more blood than before. You tut and reach to touch the reddened fabric.
“I’m fine,” he insists as he shrugs you off, “don’t worry, sweet cheeks, you’ll get your hands on me eventually.”
You recoil and roll your eyes. He adjusts the mirror and his eyes narrow past it. You follow him as smoke seeps out through the open doorway. You frown and reach for the car door. The locks clunk into place.
“Baby cakes, you got a big heart but those people don’t deserve your pity,” he shifts into gear and hits the gas, reversing with a sharp veer that has you pressed against the door. “We’re done here.”
“Wait, Lloyd, what did you do?”
“I saved your sweet ass. I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t imperative to me. Can’t let that jiggle go to waste, you know?” He snickers at the road as he steers away from the smoking country house.
You crane to see behind you, a glimmer of orange in the left window before you’re too far away to make out much of anything. You feel a tap on your thigh and sit straight as Lloyd’s hand rests there. He squeezes and gives a growl.
“Get your belt on, sweetheart,” he girds, “last thing I need is you flying through the windshield after I went to all that trouble.”
You gulp and click the belt into place. You can’t help but agree with that sentiment.
“Where are we going?” You ask.
He laughs again as he steers casually with one hand, his foot heavy on the pedal, “oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” He rubs your thigh, letting his hand slip between them, “we both just saw what happens when you take care of yourself, huh?” He squeezes and hums, “I’m not that soft dicked cop or that mummy’s boy farmer,” he taunts, “you belong with me, mimi… you belong to me.”
You stare at his hand then lift your eyes to the road. You peer over at the streaking landscape and shudder. Compared to the alternative, to Johnny or Cole, he’s not the worst you could do. Besides, with him, you don’t have much of a choice. You’re pretty sure you’re more than just a fling now, you’re an accessory to murder.
🌙
The adrenaline drains from you and has you slumped in your seat, snoring against the door as you forget the world whipping by you. You dream of the farmhouse and Beverly’s scissors. You awake with a start as the soothing motion slowly and you blink at the night.
Lloyd turns into a driveway, rolling up to the dark house. You grumble and shift in your seat, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. He shuts the car off and sits in the blackness.
“You awake, sugar tits?” He asks.
“Yeah,” you croak. “Where are we?”
“The only thing you needa know about where we are is that you’re safe. Stay close to me and you always will be.”
He undoes his seat belt and you do the same. He unlocks the doors and you let yourself out, stiffly standing as you rub your lower back. You turn to look at the neighbourhood lit with cones of light pouring from tall poles. You’ve never been here before. You must be far from home.
What home?
You follow Lloyd’s shadowy figure towards the front door. He stops to key a code into a number pad and it flashes green. He pushes inside and flips on the light. You shuffle in after him, rubbing the kink in your neck. He sighs and shuts the door as it locks automatically.
“Is… this your house?”
“One of many,” he intones, “didn’t I mention that before?”
You frown and peer around, “no…”
He chuckles, “no? Don’t know how that didn’t come up. I guess I didn’t take you for a gold digger.”
“I… I’m not,” you face him, appalled by the suggestion.
“Relax, I’m not saying you are, I’m just saying, you never asked.”
You clamp your lips and shake your head. He plants a hand on the wall and slips off his shoes, groaning as he wiggles his toes. You don’t have any shoes, your feet are cold and dirty. You stand on the mat, unsure of what comes next.
“So… what now?” You ask, “are we hiding?”
“Hiding? I told you, I got friends on the force,” he scoffs as he faces you and brings his hand up under your chin, “I’ll tell you what now. You’re gonna fix me up, the way you do, and I know it gets you all worked up, so after, we’re going to christen this place. Every single room.”
“Lloyd,” you utter as he backs you up to the wall.
“Well, we don’t need to do those in that order,” he purrs, “you can sit on my face first.”
Your eyes round and you tisk, “please.”
“Please… what? I’m all yours, mimi. Tell me what, and I’ll gladly lick it.”
“Must you?” You sneer.
“Which hole, mommy?” He teases.
You jab his ribs and he grunts, “I hate when you call me that.”
“Oh, I know, but I love it when you get mad,” he smirks. “Mimi,” his tone deepens and his expression turns dire, “I don’t think you get it. You don’t understand what you do to me.”
You arch a brow and tilt your head defiantly, “no, you don’t understand everything you’ve done to me.”
“Christ sakes, I just massacred a family for you,” he growls as he steps closer, leaning in to hover his lips over yours, “can’t you see I’m fucking crazy for you?”
You search his eyes for what, you don’t know. You know he’s nuts, he doesn’t have to tell you that. He also doesn’t have to say that you’re stuck with him because of that very affliction. Honestly, he’s close to tolerable when he doesn’t say anything at all.
He pulls you to him, smothering any resistance you might muster. He kisses you greedily, holding you against him, wrapping you up in his arms. He has you locked in; trapped in his grasp and his house and his life.
The bristle of his mustache tickles your nose, a symptom of his very being, the one little thing that ruins the moment.
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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 months
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Forbidden
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Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT 🔞
Strickt parents and werewolves don't mix, so you run.
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The gates opened with that familiar creak that had you stumble out of your bed and stare out of your window.
Like clockwork you watched the community's hunter return from his trip. The beast man's steps were heavy as he carried in a large deer and a boar that hung over his back, together with a bunch of squirrels he'd strung up.
Almost ceremoniously the smaller hunted animals were taken from him as he slowly walked past your window.
You followed the movements of his large paws, wishing to be able to hold them in your hands on day and just rub at the pads. His tail wrapped up in that red rag that identified him from further away since his human form also carried it. You loved how his fur was the exact color of his hair and even the greying beard he sported carried over to his beast shape.
His tail swished from side to side with each step and it almost hypnotized you. So much that you hadn't noticed your father waltzing into your room and catching you staring at the one thing he hated most.
Like a disobedient child he grabbed you by the back of your shirt dragging you away as you let out a shriek at the initial contact.
Out of your view the hunter perked up at the sound, staring at your empty window. He found it curious to not see your familiar face there, now that he for once did fully look up. Your admiring from afar had him intrigued but he had never seen you outside to talk.
As your father dragged you out of your room you cried but your mother only shook her head with a saddened look in her eyes.
"How many times do I have to tell you that ..thing! is the devil!" His shouts went right through you, your mother still not speaking and just standing by and watch.
Not that it surprised you. It had been like this ever since the group came to the community and the beast had saved many people.
Ever since the dead started walking your father had been insanely protective of you and to your luck he was one of the folks in charge of this housing area and held a high rank in the community.
You were his precious little girl and even now as an adult he still saw you like that and never let go of that need to protect you.
"Let me go!" You screamed at him, watching as your mom stood there in the door opening, doing nothing.
You managed to worm your way out of his grasp and sprint out of the front door.
Daryl had heard a shriek and paused his trek to the supply room. As he listened in he heard the yelling and stood at the ready in case someone needed to interfere.
He wasn't going to just rush in due to the opinion these specific people already had of him, so only of really needed he'd go in.
Not that it was, as the woman he had caught glimpses of now came stumbling down the porch steps, clearly in panic.
Running onto the street you collapsed yourself against the beast you knew your father wouldn't get near. You grabbed handfuls of his fur and cried your heart out. Crocodile tears, but the bystanders didn't have to know that.
A large paw came to rest on your back as your father rushed onto the street.
Daryl watched him holding a rifle, ready to shoot as he was calling him all kinds of nonsense names. After looking back and seeing the rifle you clung to his fur just a little tighter.
You felt the rumble through your entire body when Daryl let out a warning growl.
You dared to sneak a peek at your house, where you spotted your mother, again backed ip in the doorway and crying.
All you wanted to do was scream at her to speak up, but the rifle currently pointed in your direction silenced you. And then the familiar sound of a round loading into the chamber caught your ear and Daryl ducked further behind you. He knew your father wasn't gonna shoot you.
The scene was interrupted as your mother jumped forward to grab her husband's shoulders. "You can't! You'll hit her!" She cried as her hands were roughly shaken off the man's frame as he again took aim. "Don't worry, I'm a great shot."
You jumped up at his words, shielding Daryl's frame with a wide stance.
"Why would you even shoot him? He's a friend! He provides for us.." You felt Daryl's head rest against you in response and held a paw around your leg.
Your voice cracked as you yelled at your father, tears now anything but fake.
"Don't you see? That's a monster!"
A crowd had formed by now as you yelled at each other until Carol stepped in, wondering in her kindest voice what seemed to be going on.
You knew Carol, she was the sweet lady who brought food all the time. Even while being part of Daryl's group your parents quickly accepted her.
"Do you wanna lower the gun, please?" Carol approached cautiously. "You're scaring your wife and daughter."
The rifle lowered slightly before being used to aggressively point back as he continued raving about how his daughter was defending a demon.
"You don't even know him!" You snapped back before Carol could answer. It wasn't that you did knew him at all either, which your father made very clear as he cursed at your disobedience.
"You kept me locked inside, I couldn't get to know him.." You cried out between tears, feeling Daryl carefully nudge your hand with his snout.
"From what I'm hearing right now I think it's best you and your daughter are staying separated for a while." And before he could respond she added "she'll be staying in my home. We are friends and I know she's comfortable around me."
After some more back and forth without a pointed gun, efforts to avoid the argument shifting back to Daryl and finally some words from your mother the agreement was done. You were watched like a hawk as you and Carol packed your most important items up and eventually left for her home.
It was strange, spending your time in a new home. Even stranger to hear a shower running while thinking Carol lived alone as she never mentioned any housemates.
She helped you take your items upstairs and sort out anything you could keep downstairs like coats and shoes.
"You can do whatever you want in here. Just make sure to tag along with me if you wanna go outside for the near future, okay?" Carol tried her best to work with everyone's rules and requests and for now it seemed to be good.
You spent your first days relaxing and reading. Carol had allowed you to rummage through the books she kept in the living room and you found a thick book on werewolf mythology and history. Maybe she kept it to learn stuff about Daryl.
And you wanted to learn as well so you spent your time in bed with the book, reading about the strengths, weaknesses and changes of werewolves. There were chapters about their changed anatomy too that went into full detail.
During dinner you heard a door and stairs before a half asleep, grumbly Daryl emerged from the downstairs room.
"Morning, Pookie. Made your favorite." Carol got up to grab him a plate as Daryl sat down at the table and greeted you tiredly.
You three ate dinner mostly in silence with Daryl still being half asleep and you being too nervous to speak and were internally worrying if the way you ate was normal.
And of course Carol caught on as you two washed the dishes as Daryl had passed out on the couch almost immediately after putting his plate away.
"His hunting trips tire him out, he sleeps almost the whole time for like four days after." She gives a loving glance at her best friend. He looked like those old world dads that took their after work nap while moms cooked dinner. It was cute, honestly. And that little peek of happy trail underneath the ridden up hem of his shirt was pretty distracting.
You continued the dishes and laughed with Carol, who promised to take you along on her trip through the community to clear her list of tasks.
You finished up and headed back upstairs to continue study your book, eventually passing out with it open beside you.
It wasn't long before Daryl joined you in the bed, laying down behind you and pulling you close into his chest. Your body warmed up immediately as his soft growly breaths fanned your ear and his hard length pressed against your clothed backside.
A soft sigh left you as you pressed back against him. You wondered what he looked like, bit you weren't going to interrupt him and ask. His hands slipped the fabric off your body and you felt his thick cock slip between your thighs.
Your breathing picked up as you felt his hand snake to your front and guided himself between your folds and pressing in oh so slow.
You moaned as he slid in and out at a calm pace with his hands grabbing at your chest.
He felt so good inside of you and you could feel yourself getting so, so close--
What? A knock on your door woke you from your dream.
"Yer okay?" Daryl's raspy voice wondered, but as he breathed in he needed no answer. Your panting clearly wasn't from a nightmare. Your bedside lamp was still on and his old lycantrophy book was open next to you on a ..more intimate chapter.
When you didn't answer his question in embarrassment but seemed to be okay in any other way he gave you a huff and a smile. "'M headin' fer a shower. Wan' me back here after?"
A very shy nod was all you could muster before he left with a quiet "back in a bit."
As the door closed you put the book away and curled away under the blankets. Entirely flushed by the situation and embarrassed of how he caught you just now.
You were so caught up in your own misery you hadn't realized he walked into the room until your mattress dipped on the side and the blanket was lifted off your head.
Wide eyes, caught off guard, stared up at him. His hair still wet and a soft smile on his face. "Hi," was all he said before dipping his head down and nuzzling your cheek, not wanting to kiss you without being sure you'd allow him to. He kept his seated position at your side until you gave him the okay to come lay down.
But it was clear you were still a bit shy from before.
"Can ya show me what ya want?" His voice was much softer than usual, sending shivers down your body that collected all the way down to your core.
You rolled onto your back, hands slowly coming out from under the blanket to hang still halfway between you two for a moment before they settle on his arms and tug ever so softly, scared to seem too forward. He let his arms be moved, one ending on each side of you and his body soon followed.
The blanket stayed in place to form a comfortable barrier for you to remove when ready, but for now he was content like this. "Wha's yer next plan, pretty lady?" His hand lifted to caress your cheek and brush a strand of hair out of your face. You didn't answer but without thinking you stared down as your mind went back to your dream and the book you were reading.
Daryl caught your eyes moving down his body and let out a soft laugh. "How 'bout ya share tha' dream from earlier. Can do tha' for real this time."
A short moment of silence passed that Daryl used to take in your features properly this time until you finally nodded. "Okay."
You moved the blanket down while Daryl moved off it to give you more space to move, patting the mattress behind you for him to lay down. Feeling the mattress dip behind you really kicked your nerves into high gear and Daryl noticed. He placed himself down gently, an arm over your waist to test the waters. He had no clue how experienced you were or weren't thanks to your living situation so tonight wad all at your pace. Although it was getting difficult to keep his urges to himself as his mind howled at him to 'just take and claim her'.
Your soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Can I.. see you?" It wasn't the whole question, but it was all you could get out.
"Take ma clothes off?" A shy "Please" was all he needed to take off his shirt and shuffle off his sweats. "All the way?" He questioned before removing his underwear as well on your request.
"Can yers come off?" His fingers had already found the hem of your shirt and the elastic of your panties, slowly moving his hand around your bare skin.
"Uhuh." Your hips lifted just enough for your shirt to be pulled up and rolled back to lift your shoulders for it to come off entirely. With the blanket slipped down Daryl's eyes found your chest immediately and looked at you with pleading eyes.
When you gave him permission his lips were on your skin, sucking and biting at the sensitive flesh. You arched your back in response, pressing your ass right against his hardening member and earning a soft moan from the man. Humming in response you repeated the motion until a hand gripped at your hips. Quickly stilling all movement as you felt claws digging into your skin. You pushed down the blanket to see. The skin around his fingertips had darkened and his nails had grown into long, thick claws. The deep rugged breaths fanning your ear had you look back at him only to see bright blue eyes and sharp fangs. His ears now pointed our from underneath his messy hair.
"Please.. show me?" They still weren't the words you were trying to say but you couldn't get them out, too embarrassed to ask.
The question mulled around in Daryl's mind for a moment, wondering if he was really going to change for her.
But who was he to deny her request? He knew he wouldn't hurt her and had seen her more often than not staring from her window.
So he nodded. "Yeah, alright." To which she smiled widely, unable to hold her excitement in.
A quick kiss was shared before he lifted himself up to his knees as he let the change wash over him. It was a quick process for him these days and it only caused some mind discomfort that faded as soon as the change was done.
You watched him shift into his large beast form with awe, being below him only intensified it all.
When his breathing evened out and his shape now was that of a beast he slowly blinked at you, showing he trusted you.
You were gorgeous beneath him. And he was beautiful above you.
Yet neither of you moved. He was letting you take him all in now that you were close and not watching from behind glass.
All that was heard in the room was Daryl's heavy breathing as he watched your hand lift up and reach out to touch the thick muscle of his arm.
You watched his head come down and gently lick your arm at the spot you touched him. And then your hand moved. To his shoulder, up to the side of his neck and his tongue followed. To your shoulder, onto your neck. His wet nose rested against your skin as he let out a noise akin to a purr. Ever so slowly you moved your hand again, resting it on his chest and giving the soft flesh a little squeeze. You couldn’t help yourself when he looked so soft and squishable.
You felt his wet tongue dart across your neck, moving down with each lap and reaching the sensitive skin of your nipple, easily engulfing the whole area in a layer of drool and making you sigh in relief.
One of your hands went to rest on the bridge of his snout and softly pushed downward. A whimper escaped your lips as Daryl complied and moved down until your pushing stopped. He had needed to back up a little and almost stepped off the bed in the process but managed to curl up with his maw right above your centre. Jaw hanging open with his tongue lolled out, sniffing and lapping at nothing as he salivated. You had spread your legs for him but still his large paws came to rest on your thighs before he nudged his snout against your lips and licked a broad strip making you moan out his name.
Just as he shoved his tongue against your clit he let out a hum, sending vibrations straight through you. Soon after you were squirming under his grasp, whining and begging for nothing in particular until he slowed his movements and moved back to hover above you, still licking his lips.
With how he was sitting over you, you realized you had a very clear look at his delicate its full glory. And it was scarily big. Everything about him was big, his tongue had reached deeper than anything else ever had, but seeing how it hung just above your stomach and reached as far up as It did, with that big, swollen knot at the base..
Now it was Daryl’s turn to let out a whine. He repositioned himself so his length rested snug between your puffy lips, moving his hips back and forth to get at least some kind of friction and panting at you, almost begging to press it past your entrance.
Reaching down you gave his cock a rub, trying to wrap your fingers around but them never meeting with how thick he was.
She used both hands to squeeze at him while he kept moving around. A particularly loud whine made you feel bad for him and finally gave into both of your wants.
When he pulled his hips back you maneuvered his tip between your folds and into you on his forward thrust, catching him off guard.
He felt his tip being enveloped in your walls and jerked his hips, pressing further than he wanted and earning a yelp from you.
"Ow." You breathed heavily but still managed to laugh, which helped ease Daryl's worry of hurting you.
He didn't move until you gave him the okay. Slow, careful thrusts were his way to go, each few thrusts adding an inch. After a good few inches, almost three quarters of his length inside of you your face scrunched in pain. "Too big.." you sighed with a flat hand on his chest. He grumbled an apology and wrapped his hand around himself, making sure he would't thrust deeper as he kept going at any pace you could handle. Slowly speeding up as no noises of protest came and he only heard soft moans and pleas. His head was right next to yours, panting softly as he rutted into you, taking in your increasingly needy sounds.
"C..close" you breathed as your hand reached to feel the bulge in your stomach his cock made. An acknowledging growl let you know he understood and not too long after when his thrusts got more sloppy he reached a paw to rub at gour clit, working to get you both off at the same time.
"Fuckk--" his rough pawpad felt so good on your most sensitive parts you came hard, your walls constricting around his length so delicious it took him two, three more thrusts before finishing with a muffled howl.
Daryl lapped at your skin in a comforting manner, from your cheek to your chest like he was telling you "you did great."
He slowly pulled out and nudged you hips, gesturing at the door. He was telling you to go clean up. You could feel him leaking out of you so squeezing as best as possible you waddled to the bathroom only to return to Daryl comfortably resting on your bed, lifting the pre-warmed blanket for you to join him.
It felt safe like this, with his strong frame curled around you it was like nothing could hurt you anymore and sleep took you in a way calmer embrace than ever before.
The next morning when you woke up you found Daryl back in his human form blinking the sleep from his eyes and grunting a good morning.
You lazily smiled at his groggy morning voice and leaned in for a quick kiss, whispering your own good morning in return.
You shared some cuddles until your stomach called out for food so loudly it had you both roll out of bed with laughter and head downstairs after getting dressed.
Neither in those moments, now or before had thought of the reason they even shared a house. Their loving housemate Carol, who, from her spot in the kitchen called out upon hearing two pairs of feet come down the stairs.
"How was it? Did you use protection or do I need to puppy-proof the house?"
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A/N: y'all may thank @celtic-crossbow for that fantastic closing line.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 10 months
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Chapter 2: What's Cookin' Good Lookin'?
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Summary: After you meet Javier Peña giving a presentation at your elementary school, you get ready to meet him at your co-worker's backyard cookout. You just hope that he remembers you.
Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past with the DEA, mentions of grief/death, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of blood and needing first aid (nothing major), Javi taking care of you, allusions to sexual tension, you being a sarcastic asshole and Javi being too smitten to care
Word Count: 8.5K
A/N: Shout out to Chucho Peña for being the G.O.AT. And Javi putting his DEA first aid skills to the test. Thank you for the likes and reposts! These two are fun to write.
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Javi couldn’t think of the last time that he had turned on the radio in his truck. It had practically gone untouched since he had returned home to Laredo. But today, on his way back to the Sheriff's Department, he had put music on full volume the whole drive. His brain overflowed with images of you. Your smile, your laugh, God, the way you looked in that damn dress. The sweet smell of you still lingered in his mind as you had gotten only inches away from his lips. “See you on Saturday.” If he had known that today’s trip would have ended like this, he would have become the damn D.A.R.E representative of the office. He was so consumed with thoughts of you, that it wasn’t until he had passed City Hall that he realized he had driven by the Sheriff's Department 15 minutes ago.  
“How’d it go, Peña?” Javier could barely take 3 steps into his office before Carter was already at his door. “You sure look happy.” 
“Hey, look who made it out alive!” A 2nd voice chimed in from outside the office door, Carter’s partner, Detective Miller.
“Told ya it wouldn’t be that bad! Was the hot one there that I told you about? Jesus, I’d go back to do that stupid ass presentation again just to see her.” 
“God I hope she was, she must have been out sick the day I went because all I got were 3 middle aged ladies and disappointment.” Carter and Miller laughed to each other. 
“Definitely would have paid way more attention if she was my fuckin’ teacher, god damn, she is a hot piece of a-” 
Javier was no stranger to his co-workers checking out women on the job, hell, he was guilty of it too. But there was something about the conversation that made his stomach churn with jealousy. 
“She’s got a fucking name, alright? Don’t talk about her like that.” Javier snapped, leaving the two men standing in his doorway stunned. Given his reputation, Carter and Miller thought Javier would be quick to join in on the banter. 
“Jesus, sorry man. Just trying to have some fun.” The two backed out of his office, not expecting such a reaction from him. Carter was just about to open his mouth, hoping to gain some intel from Javier’s trip, but before he could, Miller gave him a silent shake “no”, gesturing to get the hell out before Carter did something else stupid to piss their boss off. 
Despite his interaction with Carter and Miller, Javi spent the rest of the day in a surprisingly good mood. 
Fuck, did he feel… happy?  
It obviously wasn’t a look that Javier wore often, considering that as he left the office for the day and gave a smile, accompanied by “Have a good night!” to the office secretary, she looked up at him with legitimate concern and asked if he was okay.  
Dust swept around his truck as Javi pulled down the dirt driveway to the front of the Peña ranch. The quaint house was nestled amongst acres of farmland, sat in front of a well loved barn where the horses were kept. The porch was lined with a colorful arrangement of flowers and figurines, all lovingly placed by Lucia, and even more lovingly tended to by her husband, Chucho, who swore his best to keep her garden alive after she no longer could. 
The front door let out a faint squeak as Javier made his way through, taking off his shoes and setting down his things before making his way over to the fridge. Reaching at the handle to grab a beer and something to eat, he saw the bright yellow sticky note placed at eye level as he bent down. 
Javi, 
It’s Wednesday. I’m with Las Vengüenzas (The Embarrassments) for cards. Will be back around 9. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Símon is being an ass today. Watch out. 
Love, Pops 
Chucho Peña was notorious for leaving notes everywhere around the house. Javi was pretty sure if he didn’t make a bi-weekly trip around the ranch, the entire thing would be covered in yellow post-it notes. 
After inhaling half of a leftover sandwich, and finishing off his beer, Javi slipped on his boots and made his way out to the barn to round up and feed the horses for the night. Before accepting his new position at the Sheriff's department several months ago, Javi spent the beginning of his time home from the DEA working with his father on the ranch. When he came home from Colombia, he didn’t really have a plan. Just that he couldn’t take working for the DEA any longer. Even after he had leaked the dark, unsettling truth of what had happened with the Cali Cartel and made a point to politely tell the DEA to fuck off, Javi would still receive the occasional call asking him if he would consider coming back to help fight the drug war raging across the border in Mexico. The request to fuck off got less and less polite with each call. 
Still, Javi felt unsettled resigning himself to a life of ranching forever. His body had proved to him that he definitely was not as young as he once was, and he couldn’t help but miss the fact that what he was doing held some sort of significance to make things better. 
When Dean Morris approached Chucho about the new training position opening up for the department, he told the elder Peña that the office was willing to do just about anything to have Javi be a part of their team. No field work, normal office hours, pay raise, and good benefits.  Just providing his expertise and knowledge to new recruits and staff about strategies to stop trafficking across the border. Javier had considered the option of telling him to fuck right off too, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like an idiot to pass something like this up. He felt guilty leaving his position at the ranch with his dad, but his father assured him “If I could do it all these years while you were gone, I’d sure as hell look like a fool if I couldn’t keep doing it now. Don’t think you’re still getting out of helping while you’re around, though. You can promise your old man you won’t leave me too high and dry. ” 
So here Javi was, making good on his promise. As he opened the gate to the barn, 2 of the horses trotted up to him immediately, knowing that it must be close to dinner time. 3 more slowly followed, leaving one left for Javi to corral. 
Where the hell was he? 
“Son of a bitch.” Javier muttered to himself, noticing that the last horse he was looking for was all the way across the field, perfectly content where he was standing. Chucho was right, Símon was going to be a pain in the ass today. 
“Símon! Get your ass over here! I’m not going all the way out to get you!” 
Nothing. 
“Fine, starve to death, see if I care.” Javi had a sweet spot for animals, but Símon’s unruly antics tended to make the horse an exception to the rule. 
Javi turned his back and made his way to the other 5 horses choosing to give him much less of a hard time. Javi filled the troughs with food, leaving the horses happily munching on their dinner. As he got one last scoop from the bucket to place into the trough, a soft muzzle bumped its way under the scoop, causing the food to fly everywhere. Símon let out a loud whinney, mocking Javier for letting out a startled yell and dropping the remainder of the food all over the floor of the barn. “Stupid ass horse…” Javi grumbled. 
As Javi ventured his way back to the house, several more lights had been turned on inside the house, signaling that his dad must be back from his weekly cards night. 
Kicking his boots off on the back step, Javi greeted his father. “Hey Pops. You were right about Símon. Pendejo scared the shit out of me and knocked a whole scoop of food out of my hand.” 
“Well from what I gather, it seems like that’s a small tarnish on what otherwise seems to be a pretty good day.” Javi could hear the delight in Chucho’s voice from around the corner. He had forgotten that both Maria and Estelle’s husbands were a part of Chucho’s card club, and were probably both delighted to gossip to their husbands about their eventful day at school. 
Javi joined his father in the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the dining room table and plopping himself in it. “Word travels fast, I guess.” 
“Not fast enough for Maria, apparently. She called me as soon as she got home from school to tell me about today. She was delighted to see you, and even more delighted to tell me that apparently you’re now joining me for the cookout that you very adamantly told me you weren’t going to.” Chucho raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I heard she’s a sweet girl.” 
Javi rubbed his hand across the width of his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Pops, listen, it’s not that big of a deal, I just met her today. She seemed nice.” 
“Must be a little more than just nice if you’re willing to go through the ringer your mother’s friends are about to put you through on Saturday.” Chucho now delighted in the fact he could tell Javier was becoming increasingly more sheepish as the conversation continued. “Ah, the things we do for love…” 
“Dad, listen I-” 
“I know, I know, you just met her. But let me tell you hijo, I knew from the moment that I laid eyes on your mother, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The fact that you’re volunteering yourself to talk with your friends and family you’ve been avoiding since you’ve been home just for another chance to see her? She must be something special.” Chucho sighed, and made his way past Javi, extending his arm out to pat him on the shoulder as he passed by. “I just want you to be happy, hijo. Sounds like today was a good start. Well, this old man is off to bed, I may not be beautiful, but I sure need my sleep. Good night, Javi.” 
“Night, Pops.” 
Chucho retreated to this bedroom, leaving Javi alone in the kitchen. Javi stared at the pictures hanging on the wall across from the table. His gaze traveled across the wall noting the variety of framed photos. Him as a toddler in nothing but a cowboy hat and diaper, his mother and father standing next to him holding his diploma from his high school graduation, and Chucho and Lucia slow dancing together at their 25th wedding anniversary party. Javi smiled at the joy and happiness radiating off their faces in the photo.  
Today was a good start. 
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You were convinced that time could not have moved any slower than it did between Wednesday and Friday. Exhausted from the end of the school year excitement, you were sure that even a constant IV coffee drip was going to be enough to keep you alive for the next few days. The only thing keeping you going was Saturday. Specifically, Javier Peña. 
Your week became a little more bearable in the moments in the staff lounge you got in between inhaling your lunch, listening to your co-workers drabble bits of information about Javier and the Peña family. You tried to absorb as much of it as you can, without trying to sound too over-eager or ask too many questions. On Wednesday, after your encounter, you asked at lunch how the ladies knew Javi. From there, you had learned that his late mother used to work with the rest of the 3rd grade team before passing about a decade ago (And had been inseparable up until then), he had started his new job at the Sheriff's department a few months ago after returning back to Texas (but you couldn’t figure out where or why he was gone), and they were definitely not a fan of some woman named Lorranie (you weren’t sure why on that either, but the look on their faces told you Lorranie was bad news). If there was one thing your co-workers loved to do, it was talk. While you were happy it provided you with some intel about Javi, the thought of what these ladies had been saying about you behind your back was also petrifying. 
Some way or another, you finally managed to make it to Friday at 4:00 PM, students now all gone from your classroom and headed home for the weekend. With the few ounces of energy you had left, you began to gather your things from your desk to pack up and head out with the promise of Saturday finally on the horizon. 
As you were turning off your lights and closing the door behind you, the 3 Amigas of 3rd grade came strolling up behind you. 
“So, mija, are you excited for tomorrow?” Maria said, giving you a playful nudge in the arm as you joined the group of ladies walking down the hallway towards the parking lot. You could already feel your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Of course you were excited for tomorrow. The thought of seeing the tall, broad and handsome man that was Javier Peña was the only thing you through this week. His deep brown eyes, the way his shoulders stretched the back of his navy blue suit, his hands? You had only known this man for less than a week, yet the image of him flooded your brain every day since you met. Not to mention the fact you hadn’t been on a first date (or anything even close to that) since you met Paul almost 3 and a half years ago. It was only now that you felt the nerves swirling around in your stomach, realizing tomorrow you were actually going to see him again. 
“Yeah, I’m really excited! I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I’m uh, actually kind of nervous though.” Your voice began to trail off as the women looked at you with a smirking suspicion. You quickly elaborated, trying not to make it too obvious the reason why you were worked up was because of the one person you were most looking forward to seeing. 
“You know, because this is my first big party I’ve been to since moving here, and I don’t know a lot of people, and want to make a good impression and-” 
“You’ll know us” Linda cut you off with a smile. 
“You’ll know someone else there besides us old broads, too.” Estelle winked. 
“Mija, there is nothing for you to worry about. Just be yourself, and I’m sure that everyone there will love you. Anyways, we’ve already put in a good word for you, so I wouldn’t be too nervous. ”
“Maria, leave the poor girl be! She’s a tough cookie, she can fend for herself!” Linda retorted. She could tell from the look on your face that this conversation was turning out to make you more anxious than expected. “It’ll be a fun time, mija. Drive home safe and we will see you tomorrow.” 
The 4 of you waved and said goodbye as you parted ways to your cars scattered across the parking lot. As you sat down in the driver’s seat, you couldn’t tell if you were covered in sweat from the hot, Texas sun beating through the windows of your car, or because the idea of tomorrow had you a hot mess. 
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Your apartment was finally starting to feel like home. Pictures of your family hung on the walls, furniture finally delivered, contents of moving boxes unpacked and put away. You were a little too Type A for your own good, and while for the most part, your boxes had been sorted and organized you still didn’t feel settled until everything felt like it had a place. The last thing left to put away was a box marked “CHICAGO” that had sat in the corner of your living room, long after its counterparts had been sorted to their rightful home. You had told yourself that you needed to finally face unpacking this box before the school year came to an end, and with your countdown at 4 days, time was starting to run out. 
After you had finished putting away the contents of your school bag, you changed out your work clothes, tossing them in your hamper and rummaging through your dresser to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized Chicago Cubs shirt, its logo faded and fraying from all of its wear. On your way back to the living room, you passed through the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. If given a choice, it was always Miller Lite. Growing up with 3 older brothers, it was the beer they would sneak you sips of when your parents weren’t looking. It was the beer you drank in college, knowing that a night drinking most liquors would send you to an early grave the next morning. It was what you drank almost every night for months after finding out you had wasted years of your life with Paul, who couldn’t be bothered to give an apology for what he had done to hurt you. If there was one thing you were, it was a little too stubborn for your own good, and you and Miller Lite had a history you weren’t willing to part ways with now. 
That lead you back to public enemy #1- The “CHICAGO” box. You saw crossed legged on the floor as you rested your hand on your face, the other bringing the beer to your mouth for some liquid courage. The thing that frustrated you the most about this stupid box was that you knew exactly what was inside it. You could probably name where the contents were positioned inside the box. But every time you came close to ripping the packing tape off, you found yourself frozen in fear. If you opened that box, you would be admitting to the fact that when you were faced with the toughest moments in your life, you chose to run. Run half way across the country without looking back. And that- that made you feel a sense of cowardice that hung heavy on your conscience. You’d like to think that you were strong, determined, willing to stand up for yourself. But when it mattered most, you were none of those things. You were far from it. 
So here you were again. You and that damn box. After this week, you didn’t have it in you to intensify the staring contest you had started with an inanimate object, and the prospect of tomorrow was enough to ruin your mood over a stupid container full of things. Exhausted, you sat yourself down on the couch, curled up in a blanket and turned on the TV to watch the next NHL Playoff game. 
There were a lot of things you loved about Texas, but their lack of enthusiasm for hockey was a bit disappointing. When people asked you some of things you missed most about the midwest, a hockey fix was at the top of your list. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played, you were convinced you came out of the womb with skates on. You were also convinced the need to keep up with your brothers is what fueled the fire for your overly competitive nature. The only downside to your love for hockey was when it came to dating. Being around your brother’s teammates, you constantly heard “how hot it was” or that it was “so sexy” when girls knew about hockey, or sports in general. In reality, whenever you brought up your interest on dates, it backfired. It turned into “Well you only know about it because of your brothers” or “It’s weird that you play hockey, that’s too manly.” One man once made the mistake of taking you on a first date to a skating rink thinking it would be cute to teach you how to skate, until you lapped him several times as he wobbled like a baby deer, and made him storm off in anger because a girl was better at skating than him. His loss. 
Taking another sip of your beer, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you leaned your head further and further into your couch pillow. Despite trying your best to stay awake, exhaustion and comfort swept over your body, as you were lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of cheering and bullhorns coming from the TV. 
It wasn’t until you were greeted by a sharp, stiff pain in your back that you realized you had fallen asleep, curled up on your couch, not even making it into bed last night. You grunted and rolled over to look at the clock hanging above your kitchen counter 
10:13 AM
Shit. You were definitely not planning on sleeping in this late. The cookout wasn’t until 2:00, and all you had on your to-do list was to shower and get ready, but the last thing you wanted was for anything to make you late for something you had been looking forward to for the past 3 days. 
After taking what you so lovingly deemed the “3 hour shower” (washing and conditioning your hair, shaving, and scrubbing down every inch of your body), you stood wrapped in your towel, staring at your open closet.  You swiped through several pieces, throwing them down on the bed, bracing yourself for the personal fashion show that was about to ensue. 
Almost an hour later, and half your closet now scattered about on the floor, you were convinced that if you had woken up at 7:00 AM you still would be crunched for time trying to pick out an outfit. What the hell does someone wear to a casual cookout full of a bunch of people they don’t know, and one really hot one that they want to get to know better? 
After a few more combinations, you ruled out shirts and shorts, worrying that you were going to look too informal amongst a group of strangers. You dug back through your pile of dresses, trying a few back on hoping to find a solution. At 12:30, you landed on a baby blue sundress covered in small, white and pink flowers. Considering it was going to be 89 degrees today, you figured the spaghetti straps and knee length cut would be acceptable. It made you feel confident, and even a little sexy. After almost an hour of trying to toe the line between cute and casual, you threw on the dress and give yourself a quick run down in the mirror. Not half bad. You spent the last bit of time in the bathroom finishing your hair and a little bit of makeup, a routine you had down to a science, followed by swearing at yourself under your breath as you shoved the explosion of clothes on your floor back into your closet. 
As you gathered your things, you took one final deep breath for reassurance as you headed out the door and down the steps to the front of your apartment building. You had been to Maria’s house before for her Cinco de Mayo party, recalling directions and that it wasn’t too far of a walk from your house. The whole way there, your hands were balled in fists squeezing your fingers, fueled exclusively by your increasing anxiety as you got closer and closer to Maria’s house. Knowing the social butterfly Maria is, you shouldn’t have been shocked by the massive number of cars lining the street leading up to her residence. As you walked up to the back gate of the house, you took several deep breaths before mustering the courage to make the trek down to the party. With each step across the hot cement of the sidewalk, your brain swirled with questions 
“Is he already there? Is he actually excited about seeing me too, or do the ladies at work just feel bad for me and they’re trying to make me feel better? God, does he even remember that I’m coming or who I am? Fuck, was this dress even a good choice? What if I’m way too dressed up and he thinks I look like an idiot? Jesus, I hope they have alcohol at this thing. 
Your heart raced as you approached the gate to her backyard, with a sign in bright, colorful letters that read “Fiesta this way!”. As you pushed open the gate, you were greeted with the thick scent of meats cooking on the grill, followed by upbeat Latin music and chatter amongst the guests. When you looked around, you were greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces. You began to walk further into the crowd when a tight embraced wrapped around you from behind. 
“MIJA! I’m so glad you came!” Maria’s familiarity gave you a slight sense of relief. “Listen, I have to go help with the food, but there are lots of drinks in the cooler so help yourself, food should be up in about half an hour! Not everyone is here yet, but if anyone comes looking for you, I’ll be sure to send them your way.” Before you could make any attempt at a comeback, Maria winked at you and escorted herself back to the porch to continue setting up dinner. 
Taking another sweep around the backyard, you made your way over to the drink coolers sitting on the side of the house, when you felt a tug at the bottom of your dress. Surprised, you turned around to see a small freckly face staring back up at you.  
“Extoose me. My big bwother says dat your his teacher and dat sometimes you pway with dem at weecess and dat dey weeelllllyyy want to pway baseball but none of da other gwownups will pway and dey need someone to pitch. Will you pweeeeseeee pway wif us?”
Looking up, you noticed a small group of kids gathered in a cluster now smiling and waving at you. 
“Hi, Alex. Hi, Sophia.” You waved back at two of the kids you knew from your class. “You know it’s okay to come ask me to play, you don’t have to send your little brother.” 
Alex looked at you with a sincerely confused look on his face. “I didn’t know if we were allowed to talk to our teacher if they’re not at school.” 
Sophia slapped him with the wiffle ball bat. “Of course you are, stupid. Teachers don’t live at school. They do real people stuff too.” 
“If I’m so stupid, why didn’t you ask her, Ms. Know-it-all?” 
As the two continued to argue, you took another look around at the party. With the familiar face count only at 3 (being Maria, and Estelle and Linda who you had waved to from afar), you realized that your choices were to either go converse with people you’ve never met, stand alone awkwardly, or go play baseball. The choice seemed easy enough. 
“It’s okay you guys, I’ll play with you. Only for a little bit though, okay?” 
The kids cheered as they placed a bag full of wiffle balls in your hands, glad to have an adult that would be able to throw a semi-hittable pitch. The kids took turns lining up to bat, as you threw towards them. Giving a little extra encouragement to the ones who needed it, you high-fived each kid as you let them have a “homerun” by running as fast as they could around the backyard. Noticing your collection of wiffle balls had dwindled down to zero, you sent the group of kids to scatter around the backyard to collect as many as they could. As you bent down and reached your hand out to pick up one of the balls close to you, a much larger hand set itself on top of yours. 
“It’s been a while since I’ve played, but I don’t think the pitchers are supposed to go out in the field to collect all the balls.” 
Shifting your gaze upwards from the grass, your eyes traveled up the length of the figure standing before you. Tight, dark washed jeans, followed by a white, short sleeved button up, that exposed the tanned skin of his chest. Next, a strong jaw and mustache, and deep, chocolate brown eyes that had lived vividly in your memory since first seeing them a few days ago. 
“If I didn’t know any better, I would have figured that you’re a teacher by day, MLB pitcher by night.” 
You shrugged your shoulders and mischievously rolled your eyes. “Damn, you caught me. My secret is ruined!” 
Javi shifted the hand that was on top of yours under your palm, engulfing your hand in a gentle grasp, pulling you up to a standing position. 
“Thanks.” you blushed as you brushed your hands down your sides to flatten your dress. You watched as Javi’s eyes darted looking you up and down, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip. 
“Can I uh, get you something to drink?” Javi asked. Noticing that his hand was still holding yours, he shifted his weight and tried to casually place his hands on his hips. 
“Yeah, a beer would be great. Unfortunately, I don’t think they allow players to drink on the field, but it looks like they called someone in from the bullpen to take my place so I should be in the clear.” You both laughed, looking over to see that none of the kids had seemed to care that you had gone missing, and someone else had gladly taken your place as pitcher. 
“I’ll be right back.” As you sat down at the edge of an empty picnic table on the patio, you couldn't help but gawk as Javier’s back turned to yours, revealing just how tight his jeans were and how broadly his shoulders stretched. His trip to get both of you drinks was prolonged by several people coming up to him, either shaking his hand or patting him on the back. You were curious why so many people had such an interest in Javi, and why he didn’t look thrilled about it. 
After a few minutes, Javi made his way back to you, two beers in hand. “Well, you sure seem like a popular guy, Mr. Peña.” He slid your drink across the table to you, letting out a small scoff at your comment. 
“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been home.” He looked around as if he was checking to see that no one else was coming up to bother him. 
“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. Do you mind me asking where you were?” You took a sip of your drink, and traced your thumb along the condensation of the bottle. 
Javi shifted in his seat and continued to look around. “I was uh, I was in Colombia working for the DEA.” It was his turn to take a much longer drink than the one that you just took. 
“Oh shit, like the Drug Enforcement Administration DEA?” 
“Last time I checked, that was the only DEA I knew of.” He looked down at his beer and let out an uncomfortable laugh. You had seen plenty about the happenings in Colombia on the news the past several years. Needless to say, none of it was “feel-good” content. Working for the DEA was one thing, but if he was down in Colombia? He would have really been in the thick of it. Putting two and two together, it now made sense why his trip to get you both drinks had taken so long. 
“Well, um, it does sound like a really interesting job. If you ever want to talk about it, I would love to listen. But I totally get the whole feeling uncomfortable when everyone thinks you’re a hero and wants you to tell them everything when all you want is to not talk about it at all.” You reached out to place your hand on top of his and give him a reassuring smile. He looked back at you with crinkled brows and genuine confusion. You could almost feel his demeanor shift, like you were the first person who had ever considered trying to understand how he felt about the situation he was in. “My dad was a firefighter, I had 2 brothers who were in the military and another brother who’s an EMT. Obviously it’s not fair to compare anyone’s jobs, but they always hated how everyone else felt entitled to their heroism when a lot of the time, they felt far from it.” 
He swallowed and clenched his jaw as his puppy dog brown brown eyes locked with yours. No one had ever even bothered to consider the fact that Javi had no interest in talking about his past. That the last thing he felt like was a hero, that he regretted the things he had done. Yet here you were, holding his hand, reassuring him he didn’t owe you anything. He opened his mouth to speak. 
“It’s okay, really.” You reassured him once more. “The one thing I do want to know…” Your voice trailed as you took another sip of your beer, Javi’s face once again shifting to concern “is how much Maria has told you about me, and how much damage control I need to be doing.” Breaking the silence, you and Javi both laughed to yourselves. You watched as the tension seemed to dissipate from Javi’s body.  
“I could say the same thing. If it makes you feel any better, the only thing I know about you is that you just moved here not that long ago from Chicago, and that Maria was very insistent that I would be an idiot if I tried to do anything to mess up my chances with a gorgeous girl like you.” 
“Well the first part is true. I moved here at the end of December, so that’s what? 4 months now? And yeah, I’ve lived in or just outside of Chicago my whole life, so it’s definitely taken some adjusting. The 2nd half seems like a bit of an exaggeration.” You had never been good at taking compliments, but you could feel your cheeks flush. 
“Damn, Chicago to Middle-of-Nowhere-Texas? That’s a big move. The 2nd part is definitely not an exaggeration in the slightest. You look…” His eyes shifted over you once more, biting down on his lower lip. “You look beautiful in that dress.” 
“PEÑAAAAAAA! How have you been?! Mierda, it’s been too long, amigo!” A clearly drunk party  goer was standing next to you and raised up a hand holding his beer, extending it towards Javi. As he continued to stumble toward Javi, he lost his balance, and the glass beer bottle he was holding slipped from his hands, shattering on the cement patio. Glass shards and beer foam went flying on contact, and your shin was in the way of the cross fire. 
“Jesus, that hurts, shit!” Looking down at your leg, you watched as blood dripped from the point where a piece of glass lodged its way into your skin. Javi looked like he was about to murder whatever drunken idiot had stumbled his way over to him, but before he could, he had already rushed around to the side of the table you were sitting at. You tried to get up  to get a better look at the damage, but Javi firmly grasped your hips and ran his hands down the sides of your thighs to sit you back in your seat. Well, being insanely turned by a man trying to help you get a piece of beer bottle out of your shin was a new first. 
“Don’t move. I don’t want the glass to shift around anymore and make the cut worse.” His hands still hadn’t left your thighs. 
“Javi, I’m fine. I can walk.” You began to stubbornly protest. You tried to hide the grimace on your face from the pain you felt as you began to stand up again. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’ll go find some first aid stuff and- OH, okay?!” 
Before you could finish your sentence, Javi had scooped you up like it was nothing and was carrying you bridal style towards the house. Your head rested against his chest, coming face to face with unbuttoned flaps of his shirt. His scent overwhelmed you, somehow smelling even better than when you bumped into him just a few days ago. The thumb of the hand that was holding you beneath your legs traced back and forth across your knee. 
“This seems a little unnecessary, don’t ya think?” Trying to hold it together, you looked up at Javi. 
“You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” He looked down at you and shook his head with a slight grin on his face. 
“Where’s the fun in that?” 
Javi made his way through the crowded patio to the sliding glass door that led into the house. 
“DIOS MIO, WHAT HAPPENED?!” Maria shrieked, her face darting between you, Javi, and the blood running down your leg. 
“I don’t know what to tell you Maria, the baseball game back there got pretty heated. Those kids are ruthless.” Your sarcasm clearly did not go over well, as Maria’s expression was now flooded with confusion and panic. 
Javi rolled his eyes. “Tell Don he needs to get his drunk-ass together. He dropped a bottle and it shattered, some of the pieces flew into her leg. I’m guessing the first aid kit is still in the upstairs closet by the bathroom?” 
“Yes, mijo, but-” 
“No, Maria, she doesn’t need to go to the hospital, I’ll take care of her.” Boy, have you never been so excited about being injured. 
“I don’t know, Maria, I think I’m dying!” You flopped one of your free hands up to your forehead, doing your best to look like a tragic Renaissance painting. 
You could tell Javi was trying his best not to laugh, knowing that Maria was already halfway to dialing 911. “She’ll be fine, I promise.” 
Javi used his hip to slide open the door, leading you through the kitchen and up the staircase. All jokes aside and adrenaline subsiding, you were now beginning to realize how much pain you were in as your legs jostled while Javi carried you up the stairs. You scrunched your face and bit down on your lip to try and ignore the pain, but it wasn’t doing much. Javi looked down at you, noticing your face. 
“Hermosa, are you okay? We’re almost upstairs, I’m sorry about that pendejo.” 
“Yup, I’ve never been better. I feel great, actually. LOVE having this piece of glass stuck in my leg!” You noticed your sarcasm meter was probably getting a little too high for the situation. “No it’s okay, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” 
“Well, I wasn’t gonna let you bleed out on the patio.” As you crossed the threshold of the upstairs bathroom, Javi shifted you in his arms and sat you down on the top of the bathroom counter. He gave the top of your knees a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He made his way out of the bathroom, hearing him rummage around through the closet in the hallway. 
“Do I really have a choice?” You heard him chuckle from outside the door. He came back holding a first aid box and a few towels and squatted down in front of your leg dangling off of the countertop. 
“You help women take glass shards out of their legs at barbeques often?” You gestured down at the first aid kit, noting how fast he had found it. 
“Surprisingly, you are the first.” Opening up the kit, he pulled out a few supplies. “I spent a lot of time playing here as a kid, and definitely went through my fair share of band-aids.” Carefully, he placed one of his hands around the back of your leg, pulling it closer towards him. You were surprised that with hands as big as his, he was incredibly gentle. 
Trying to downplay your pain, you looked down at him and asked, “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Peña? Do I get to keep my leg, or are you destined to carry me everywhere for the rest of your life?” 
“As much as I would love to, I think you’re gonna make it out okay.” He plucked a pair of tweezers out of the kit and looked up at you with remorse. “I’m gonna pull it out, but it’s probably gonna hurt. Is that okay?” He rested his free hand on top of your thigh. “You can squeeze my hand if you need to.” 
Without hesitation, you released the hand that was gripping the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles were turning white. You slowly interlaced his fingers with his, his thumb stroking back and forth over the side of your hand. 
“Okay, whenever you’re ready.” You said, beginning to squeeze his hand tighter. 
“Okay. 3…2…” 
“FUCK! Agh, so much for 1?! Holy shit, that hurt!” You were trying everything in your power to hold back the tears welling in your eyes, trying to be as tough as possible. 
“I could say the same for my hand. Jesus, you’ve got a death grip, hermosa. I’m surprised my fingers aren’t broken.” You released his hand as he laughed and shook it out, now using both to rummage through the first aid kit again. Pulling out some gauze and tape, he carefully wrapped up the cut and tied up the bandage to hold it in place. He was so attentive making sure that you were properly bandaged up, that it wasn’t until he heard your small sniffle that he looked back up at you, noticing a small tear streaming down your face.
Generally, you prided yourself on being pretty damn tough. Growing up with brothers, you learned to play rough and deal with the consequences. More importantly, you hated crying in front of other people. Trying to quickly regain your composure, you tried to subtly wipe the tears off your cheeks, hoping Javi wouldn’t notice. Slowly, he rose up, placing one hand on the counter just outside your hips, the other coming up to your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the wetness under your eyes. 
“I promise I’m not a baby, this shit just really hurt.” You said, trying to defend yourself. His hand cupped the side of your face.
“Cariño, you don’t need to apologize.” He leaned his body in closer to yours, your faces now only inches away. “You’ve been un soldado, if anything.” 
“A what?” You were surprised your brain even had the capacity for questioning at this point. 
“A trooper” Javi leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “So much so, you’re making it hard for me to try and take care of you, considering how damn stubborn you are.” His words whispered down the side of your neck, followed by another kiss. You could feel your heart racing, your breath becoming heavier with each word. Slowly, his body shifted down between the opening of your legs, his hands wrapping around your injured calf, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your bandage. 
Your mouth hung half open, praying that your brain would concoct a half coherent sentence. Your hand traveled down to brush the top of Javi’s soft, curled hair, forcing his gaze to shift back up to you. “Last time I checked, I don’t think doctors are supposed to kiss their patients” 
He stood back up, both hands now cupping your face as he leaned in and whispered, “well it’s a good thing I’m not really a doctor, am I?” Your mouths met with a magnetic attraction. His hand had now slipped behind your head, raking his fingers through your hair as he pulled you in closer. Your hands that had been grasping the edge of the counter as a form of self control now freed themselves, grasping around Javi’s biceps, reciprocating the closeness you craved. Your body lit up with an electricity that no kiss had ever made you feel before. His hands began traveling down your body, his intensity causing you to let out a small, breathy moan. Your legs slowly wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him tighter. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs as his hands grasped the meat of your thighs as they slowly slid their way under the hem of your dress. 
“JAVI?! MIJA?! IS EVERYTHING OKAY?? DO I NEED TO CAL 911?? THERE BETTER NOT BE BLOOD ON MY BATHMAT, I JUST WASHED IT.” 
Both out of breath, your mouths parted as Maria’s shrill voice carried up the stairs. You had blacked out for the last few minutes, forgetting you were sitting on top of your co-worker’s bathroom counter, door wide open. Javi rested his head in the crook of your shoulder as he whispered “God dammit, Maria…” under his breath.
“Impeccable timing on her part, to be fair.” 
“IF YOU DON’T RESPOND I’M COMING UP THERE AND CALLING THE AMBULANCE!” 
“All good, Maria!” You shouted down, Javi’s face still resting by your neck. “Dr. Peña told me it was a close one, but I’m  gonna make it out alive.” You both giggled. “We’ll be down in a second!” 
“Are you gonna clear me to walk, or am I getting carried again?” You said, giving him a playful nudge.
He gave you a quick kiss. “Just take it easy okay?” Grabbing your wait, he lifted you up and helped you off the counter. He gestured his arm towards the doorway. “After you.” 
After you had hobbled your way down the stairs, you and Javi found empty patio chairs along the fence of the yard. After you had sat down semi-comfortably, Javi started making his way back toward the house. “Drink?” He said, looking back at you and continuing his stride. 
“As long as you don’t drop it on me, absolutely.” 
You were shocked by how quickly the next few hours went by as you sat and talked with Javi. The conversation flowed between you effortlessly as you covered the basic conversations, like your likes and dislikes, favorite things and families. You had even worked up the nerve to tell him how you ended up in Laredo after you broke things off with Paul. Now a few drinks in, your liquid courage had you diving in deeper. 
“So, tell me this, Javi. You are arguably one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. You nursed me back to health from what was clearly a life or death experience, and you have impeccable taste, besides the fact that you haven’t seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Star Wars, or E.T., which I will forgive you for, as long as you do good on your promise to watch it with me. You have also proven to be an exceptional kisser. How the hell are you still single? Is there something I’m missing? Are you like, secretly married and have a family, a serial killer, wanted by the FBI, are the people at this party a part of some sort of secret cult that’s gonna kidnap me?! C’mon, there’s gotta be something?!” 
Javi coughed on the beer that he had just sipped down his throat. “Jesus quierda, no! What would make you think that?” 
“You seem too good to be true, there’s gotta be a flaw somewhere, c’mon!!” 
“Well, I’m gonna take the high road and assume you’re not any of those things, I could say the same about you. This is most fun I’ve had since being back home.” 
You raised your eyebrows and gave him a questionable gaze. 
“I’m being serious, hermosa.” You could feel in his words that he meant it. 
“Well I’m glad. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time too.” 
You sat in a comfortable silence. Looking around, you noticed that not only had the sun gone down, but the once bustling backyard had now dwindled down to only a few party goers on the patio and a small crowd inside. The last thing you wanted to do was leave, but you also didn’t want to be walking alone at night, half hobbling from your injury. 
“Hey, I’m really sorry, believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is leave, but I probably should start waking home before it gets too late. Not a huge fan of being a woman walking alone in the dark, ya know?” 
Javi quickly set down his beer. “You were going to walk home?!” 
“What, I’m not allowed to walk?! I don’t live that far, and it won’t take that long, I’ll be fine!” You crossed your arms in defiance.
“The shuffle across the yard I watched you take to go to the bathroom an hour ago says otherwise. Hermosa, let me drive you home, please?” 
Too in pain to prove a point, you let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.” 
“Thank you. I know you CAN do it, but I will carry your stubborn ass back before I let you walk. Here.” 
He extended his arm out to help pull you out of your seat. He followed your lead taking slow steps across the yard, leading you out to the street where his truck was parked. Before you could argue, he opened up the passenger side door and lifted you up into the seat. “Just gotta get the keys from my pops and then I’ll be right back. 
“What if I try to make a break for it?” 
“It won’t take me long to catch you.” 
“Touché.” 
Javi closed the door behind him as he headed his way back into the house. Watching him in stride, you really needed to thank whoever made those jeans. 
Javi found his dad amongst his friends at the kitchen table inside, talking and laughing amongst themselves. “Hey Pops, can I have the keys?” 
Chucho took a sip of his beer and looked around at his friends. “Seems like things are going well then, huh?” The men chuckled to one another. “She’s very cute, Javi. Seems like she doesn’t put up with your Mireda either, I’m surprised she wants to spend more time with you!” 
“Well she lives close and walked here and after Don’s clumsy ass still broke a bottle in her leg, I’m not gonna let her walk home. Believe me, I was worried I was gonna have to carry her.” 
“I’m giving you a hard time, Javi. Here, take the keys. Don’t worry about me, I’m sure one of these fine gentleman will give this old man a ride home.” 
“Thanks pop.” Javi took the keys that were outstretched in his father’s hand. As he began to walk back out to the car, he grabbed Javi’s arm. 
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like you have tonight. It’s a good look on you, hijo.” 
674 notes · View notes
fairyhaos · 11 months
Text
✰ seventeen as boyfriends: joshua edition
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event taglist (send ask to be added): @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @belladaises @wheeboo @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love @dandycharmer @sweet-like-caramel @hannyoontify
pairing: joshua x gn!reader
genre: fluff, headcanon, mini scenario
word count: 534
warnings: none
notes: joshua edn. of the 500 event
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if young love was a person, it would be joshua.
i’m thinking flicking flour at each other while baking, picking up and throwing one another into the swimming pool, playing tag while running along the beachside with feet sinking into sand, clambering up the roof of your house to watch the sunset just because. 
living and loving and doing things just because you can?
vv josh coded, actually.
quality time is also soooo his love language
takes you on outings n dates whenever he can, be it at your house, the park, a cafe, anywhere at all
makes it part of your routine that when you’ve finished dinner, you’ll take a walk to anywhere, talking animatedly or not saying anything at all, hands intertwined, people-watching on the evening streets
because simply just having you by his side fills his heart with so much warmth and joy.
joshua is vivacious, bright, like acrylic on canvas,
but he’s also soft and calm and gentle like watercolour. 
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“You know what? That old lady over there is definitely plotting something,” Joshua mutters, and you snort quietly.
"You can’t say that about everyone on the street,” you say, but he just tugs your hand insistently.
“No, no, look at her, she definitely looks sketchy,” Joshua insists, pointing to the woman sitting on a park bench. “Why’s she knitting in the evening? And that scarf she’s making looks suspiciously long. Like a snake. Maybe it’s a snake in disguise.”
That makes you burst into laughter, throwing your head back, and Joshua is so pleased with himself, ignoring all of the passersby who look at you like you’re crazy, because he’s managed to make you laugh like that and it’s wonderful.
“Shua,” you sigh, shaking your head, once your laughter has subsided. “It's obviously a long centipede she's hiding, not a snake. You saw all the woolly appendages.”
“Ah.” He nods gravely, as if what you said made perfect sense. “Of course.”
You walk back to your home in relative peace, punctuated by Joshua’s nonsensical remarks and your own incredulous laughter. Eventually, you’re standing at the doorway, and he turns to you.
“Well,” he says, and he lifts up your hand to his lips. The very same hand he hasn’t let go since leaving the restaurant. Delicately, he brushes his lips over your knuckles, and smiles. “Tonight was wonderful. We should do this again sometime.”
You giggle. “Indeed we should. Thank you for walking me home.”
“Of course.” He releases your hand and steps back, grinning as you unlock the door. “Goodnight, Y/N. Will I be seeing you again?”
“Hm, perhaps,” you say, smiling. “Goodnight.” And with that, you wave and close the front door, leaving him standing there on the porch, grinning.
There’s a beat. 
Slowly, the door creaks open again, and you’re looking at him with such exasperation and fondness. “We really don’t need to do this every date,” you say, opening the door wider. “We’ve lived together for months now. How are you not tired of this?”
Joshua laughs and bounds up the porch and inside, kissing your cheek. “Because it’s fun. Because it’s with you.”
And that sentence right there— well. Story of his life, really.
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978 notes · View notes
boxofbonesfic · 9 months
Note
Drabble idea: your next door neighbour is reclusive and you rarely see him but you do notice the strange noises you hear during the full moon and the women who enter his apartment and don't come out.
(Werewolf! Curtis Everett)
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Title: Moonsign
Pairing: Werewolf!Curtis Everett x Reader
Summary: You pick the wrong night to return your neighbor’s mis-delivered mail.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Violence, Monsterfucking-adjacent, Violence, Werewolf AU
A/N: so i fell in love with this prompt—
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You pause, your fist half a centimeter from the door as a sharp howl splits the air. Maybe he has a dog. You’ve never actually seen your reclusive neighbor out with one around the block, but working nights has left you decidedly out of the loop on neighborhood events. The block’s been a ghost town lately anyway, what with over half the buildings covered in red and yellow tape signaling that they would soon be torn down or repurposed into housing neither you nor your roommates would be able to afford.
The pile in your hands consists of fifteen letters plus a small package you’d opened by mistake—a dried bundle of beautiful purple flowers you’d had to look at the card inside to identify as decorative monkshood. Behind the house, the sun is setting bright orange and red, casting the dreary porch in shadow. I’m overthinking this.
You knock.
The door creaks open, and you stand, stunned in the doorway with your arm still raised as you stare into the dim hallway beyond.
“H-hello?” You croak, your throat suddenly tight. You drop your arm. “Mr. Everett?” There’s no response, at least not one you can hear from the porch. The sound of cicadas grows in your ears as you shift nervously from foot to foot. I’ll just.. leave it inside. On a table or something.
“I’m, um, I’m coming in,” you follow the statement with a timid step across the threshold. “I’ve just um, I’ve got some mail of yours, I think it was delivered by mistake.” The rug muffles the sound of your footsteps as you shuffle toward the warm yellow light at the end of the hall. It’s a kitchen—and it’s empty.
You set the mail down on the small table. “Sorry I opened one by mistake,” you call, before shaking your head. “What am I doing,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There’s nobody even home.” That’s fine, all the better. You don’t want to have to face your neighbor after opening his mail. As you turn to head back outside, your foot catches against the leg of a chair pulled back from the table. You stumble, letting out a loud curse.
“Goddammit—” It’s only just out of your lips before you freeze, your stomach tightening. Your cry of pain seems mirrored somehow, like an echo—
Like you’re not alone in this house.
You go to speak, but find your mouth dry, and throat tight as you cup your hands around your mouth.
“Hello?” It comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry for intruding, the door was open and—” You tremble as the answering animal bellow cuts your nervous excuse in half, the unsaid words hanging unspoken in the air in front of your trembling mouth.
Is he hurt or something?
“Mr. Everett?”
For a moment, the house is so silent you can hear the traffic outside, and then the same agonized wail reverberates up through the floorboards, setting your heart racing. You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the terrified whimper that threatens to escape. It sounds again and again until you realize it isn’t just an anguished, pained yell— someone is speaking to you.
“—lp me,” the words are barely discernible, like the one speaking them can barely manage. “Help me…”
There is another door in the kitchen, one that doesn’t lead back out into the rest of the small house. It, like the front door, opens easily with little effort. The heavy door swings open on silent hinges, exposing a set of dimly lit cement stairs winding down into the dark basement.
“Mr. Everett are you—are you down here?” Your reluctant voice takes a long time to bounce back to your ears. “Do-do you need me to call someone? Did you fall?”
“It… hurts…”
You aren’t sure why the thought of going down those stairs fills you with a primordial sense of dread, like your body is painfully aware of something your waking mind isn’t. You hesitate, but then another anguished wail accompanied by a sick sounding crack spurs you into action. He was hurt down there, and your waffling wasn’t helping.
You shine your phone light on the stairs as you descend, each step dragging icy fingers slowly down your spine. You swallow thickly as you reach the bottom, cool sweat prickling at your temples. The bare bulb hanging by the landing gives off comically little light, forcing you to squint, your brows furrowed as you stare into the gloom. The house upstairs, like most of the buildings on the block, was an old construction, built some time in the sixties or seventies—but this concrete was new.
And the basement… it’s bigger than you’d thought possible, the walls invisible to you either by darkness or design. The air down here is still and heavy, and you cannot will yourself to break the pregnant silence. Goosebumps rise on your skin.
A sickening crack shatters the quiet, and the pained noise that follows is louder and closer than ever before. You squeak with fear, before covering your mouth with your hands. It stinks down here, you realize, a tart, copper scent that you finally recognize as a mix of sweat and blood.
“You…came.” The words sound pleased, despite the speaker’s obvious pain. And that voice… You squeeze your arms around yourself, taking a step back towards the landing. It was like an animal growling words. It doesn’t even sound human.
Your heel bumps the concrete as you begin to back away.
“M-Mr. Everett, I’m going to g-g-go call someone f-for you—”
“I wai-ted for yo-ou,” the voice rasps, continuing on as if you haven’t spoken at all. “Call-ed fo-r yo-ou.” Something shifts in the dark—something big. There is a heavy grunt, and then the sound of metal dragging against the concrete. A whimper worms its way past your lips as slowly, the weak glow of the swaying bulb above your head reflects off of two pale blue eyes, glinting in the dark. The thing stops moving, the dragging sound suddenly ceasing.
“He thi-nks this will sto-op me,” the sound of the chain striking concrete is like the thunder outside, the spark briefly illuminating—something. You can’t comprehend it—huge and hulking, dark fur—“There is no ca-ge for me that he can bui-ld that I cannot destro-oy.”
There is a sound like metal crunching and then your legs are moving before you tell them to, scrambling up the stairs on your hands and feet like an animal as a rasping sound like laughter follows at your heels.
You’re barely through the door when you hear it on the stairs, something big coming up behind you—you bolt towards the front door, a scream erupting from your throat. You grab the door handle—
As claws tear through your overalls, splitting the skin underneath like hot knives. You fall forward with a cry against the door. It knocks the wind out of you, and you fall to your knees, your eyes blurry with tears. It’s like a wolf, you realize as it looms over you—but like a man, too, standing on thickly furred legs with an unnatural, canine bend.
Pale blue eyes sit above its dark muzzle, and they sparkle with dark amusement. You open your mouth to scream again and it lunges, burying sharp white teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You can taste your own blood, smell it in the air around you as you gurgle. Your blood gleams on its muzzle when it pulls away, dripping down onto your face as it hums.
“He will have to keep you now.” Terrified tears track down your cheeks as the bite mark on your shoulder begins to burn. “Like he wants to.”
End
313 notes · View notes
queenof-curses · 1 year
Text
Keigo Takami (Hawks): Heat
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♡ ♡ ~ You come home and find Hawks not acting like his usual self... what happens when you try and help him? ~ ♡ ♡
Masterlist | More My Hero Academia
Hawks x Fem!Reader
wc: 2.2K
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Cw: Minors DNI! Heat Cycle. ABO Dynamics. SA Themes. Breeding.
Notes: part of the 12 Days of Breeding series originally posted on Ao3. <3
Read the previous installment here.
Read the next installment here.
Something was wrong. 
The door to your home sat wide open, making you pause and fear the worse. 
Keigo wasn’t supposed to be home yet, his schedule read he was at work for another two hours. Seeing your front door open made your stomach churn with weariness. 
You made your way up the steps of the porch and slowly walked into your home. You didn’t know what to expect, having no quirk compared to the rest of the hero world. 
Hawks was all the strength you needed- he protected you from danger, the two of you meeting when he quite literally swept you off your feet and away from a fire at your workplace. 
From then on you were inseparable, forming a deep relationship with one another and eventually you moved into his home.
The same home that you currently stood in front of. You felt hesitant to enter, but decided you needed to anyway. Pushing the door closed behind you, you turn the lock with a click. As you stand in the entryway, you take in your surroundings.
Nothing seemed out of place, you thought. 
Everything looked normal, nothing out of the ordinary besides the door that was thrown wide. 
Thump thump thump
The noise startles you- and you notice it was coming from somewhere on the second floor. 
“Hawks?” You ask out loud. 
A deep groan responds. 
That didn’t sound good.
Pulling out your phone to have 911 at the ready, you made your way up the steps to the next floor. As you walk down the hallway, you see that the door to the master bedroom was open. The room was dark, which was unusual. If Keigo was in there, the light should be on…
“Keigs?” You ask as you enter the dark room. 
“Uhhh…” 
You paused in hesitation; it was indeed Hawks, but something was off. You made your way further inside the room- spotting him sprawled out on the bed. 
“Don’t come any closer!” He cried out… He knew it had been you the moment you walked through that front door. He could smell your scent from the second floor, hoping that you didn’t make your way upstairs. 
“What’re you- oh!” You stop in the doorway, eyes wide with shock as you take in the scene laid before you.
He was completely naked, laying on top of your shared bed. Sprawled out, his hands were clenched against his sides. He was flushed, a deep red blush settling over his skin and he glistened with a thin layer of sweat. 
But that wasn’t the only thing you noticed… 
His cock was standing straight up, firm and rock hard. It twitched and leaked all over his lower abs. His tip was an angry red as his precum dripped from his tip and down his shaft. 
“Hawks, what’re you…” your words die off as your eyes make their way from his penis all the way up his flushed body…  after a moment of hesitation, they finally land on his eyes. 
His normally golden eyes were now as dark as night, as if his pupils were blown out. 
“Baby bird…don’t… come any closer.” He groaned his words out, as if it physically pained him to turn you away. 
His fists clenched as if he was holding himself back. You didn’t understand what was happening, his behavior was something like you had never seen before. 
“Keigo… let me help..” you walk towards him, not expecting his next move.
He leaped from the bed, his wings flapping behind him as he floated flawlessly over to you in a beat of a second. 
“What’re you-oh!” You cry out.
Hawks locked your hands behind your back, easily maneuvering your body to bend over your shared bed. 
“God, baby bird… you smell so good, I just can’t help myself.” he says in a hoarse voice. 
He leans over you, using one hand to hold your wrists behind your back. Taking the other, he moves your hair to the side, his nose coming up to your neck and inhaling deeply.
He groaned at your scent, you could feel his cock as he thrusted his hips against you. You knew he was desperate by the way his hardness pressed into the softness of your behind, he was practically humping your clothed body. 
Again, you try to ask him what was wrong, but you could tell by his actions he wasn’t in the right state of mind. 
“I’m sorry… I'm sorry baby bird, I need this, so bad- so so bad…I’m sorry.” jumbled words fell freely from his lips as you felt his free hand come up under your skirt.
“Hawks what are you- oh!” You cried out, feeling his hand reach under the fabric of your pencil skirt and grab a hold of the waistband of your panties. 
In a swift movement, he yanks your panties down to your knees, keeping you locked in place under his body in the process. Your skirt gets flipped up towards your waist, and all of a sudden you find yourself completely exposed to him from the waist down. 
He’s still mumbling his sorrys as you feel the heat of his shaft resting between your ass cheeks.
Your blush went unnoticed by his hazy mind; he only thought of one thing: the need to breed you. 
You try to calm him down, but your pleas fall on deaf ears. 
It wasn’t until a broken hiccup pierced through his mind did he suddenly realize what he was doing- 
“Baby Bird- I…” 
“Hawks, please…” You interrupt him, patience gone as you struggle to help your partner. 
He lets up on you only slightly- the need was too much for him to completely let go. He loved you dearly, but you didn’t understand the effects of his anamorphic abilities. 
“Baby Bird, I-I need this… please. It hurts, but I promise baby you’ll feel good too. I’ll make you feel so good…” 
You suddenly realize what’s happening… it must be the side effect of his quirk, the one he’s only mentioned once before during a drunken confession.
“Are you… going into a rut?” You ask him, slightly afraid of his answer. 
He sighs before responding, “Yes baby, you…you’re ovulating. I could smell it this morning on you, I can’t- I can’t do anything until I fill you, please… it hurts..” he begs you with a desperate voice. It makes your heart ache for him.  
It was thoughtful, you realize… you knew he could easily overpower you with his strength and take what he needed, but even through the lusty haze of heat Hawks was still able to ask you. You truly admired and loved him for it.
“Of-of course, Keigo… I trust you…” you tell him. It was the honest truth, you’d let him do anything if it meant that you were able to take away the pain he felt. You felt him relax against you in relief, the action making you smile. 
“I’ll make it feel good… I promise baby bird.” 
That was the last statement he gave before ripping away the rest of your clothing. The fabric was in shreds by the time he got you naked, and his mind was practically back to where it was when you found him moments before.
 
So you did the only thing you could do- you submitted yourself to him completely. 
Your body was once again bent over the bed, but this time you brought your hands to your ass cheeks- spreading them apart and showing him just how excited you were for him.
Hawks inhaled deeply at seeing you spread yourself for him. The air filled with the tantalizing scent that is your fertile body. He was already ready to go- his cock stood proud and hard, the prominent veins danced along his shaft to an angry red tip- weeping and ready to be buried inside of you. He looked at your glistening cunt- it was wet as if it knew he was about to fill you up with himself.
Once again you felt the heat of him come up behind you, but this time you could feel his tip come and rub itself up and down your folds. You felt yourself dripping- practically coating him in your juices. You squealed under his touch- his hands brushing yours to the side as he took over holding you open for him. 
The air was thick with lust, and you could feel him lining himself up with your entrance. 
“I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Baby Bird.”
He states it as if it were a fact. 
Suddenly, with a single thrust of his hips, he buries himself inside of your cunt in one swift movement. 
“Fuck!” you cry out- not prepared to take him all at once. You were wet- but you still felt the stretch of his girth as he sat near your cervix. “Hawks.. Ple-”
Your words were cut off as he pulled out of you, his tip being the only part of you he never truly leaves. He snaps his hips, again seeking the warmth of your walls with his member. 
He repeats his movements over and over again- picking a relentless pace as he ruts into your cunt, walls stretching and welcoming him with each and every thrust. His hands squeeze your hips, no doubt leaving visible bruises that will last for days.
You cry out around him- the pain of the initial stretch now morphing into pleasure as your moans mix with his grunts. You could hear the squelching sounds of your pussy as you suck him back in with every thrust of his hips.
Soon enough, you find yourself pushing back at him- meeting his thrusts with an equal amount of vigor and eagerness. 
“Fuck Hawks… i-it feels good,” you cry out to him.
“That’s it baby bird…cream on my cock…” 
He reaches down under you with one hand, easily finding your budded clit and rolling it softly between the pads of his fingers. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grip the sheets below you. It felt as if he were molding your cunt into the shape of him- pounding you from behind faster than he ever has.
He fucked you hard. You scream out into the bedroom as he changes his thrusts, angling his hips slightly downwards. His cock rammed into you, brushing past the soft spot inside of you that had you seeing stars.
Hawks knew the moment you were cumming as your pussy clamped down on him tightly.
“Fuck baby…” he growls as he feels your walls squeeze him tight.
You were speechless, your mouth wide open and drool falling onto the bed below you as you cum around his cock. Your vision went white as Keigo removed his fingers from your clit- hiking one of your legs up onto the bed and opening you even further for him.
He fucked you through your orgasm with deep, quick thrusts that had your body rocking up the bed. A strong hand held your leg up as he drove himself into you- reaching closer to his own end. 
“That’s right, cream all over my cock… I’m gonna fill you up, gonna breed this little cunt… fuck!” he groans out. 
Looking down was the moment he knew he was at his end. He looked down where the two of you met- where his shaft pounded against your hole and disappeared inside of you. He felt his balls tense up each time they kissed your clit with the movements of his hips. But there, at the base of his cock, was a ring of thick cream that has collected from your finish. 
It was the hottest thing he’s ever seen… he felt your juices and cum mix with his own, and with a final thrust of his hips he buried his cock so deep inside of you he wanted you to feel him in your throat.
You cry out- incoherent mumbles of giving him his babies fall from your lips as he sees nothing but stars. 
He came undone inside of you- your cunt milking him for every single drop of seed he had. He filled your tight walls with hot cum as if his life depended on it- keeping you locked under him for as long as possible.
You were full- so full of everything Hawks. You lose your fight to stay up as you collapse against the bed, legs hanging over the edge in exhaustion as you warm his shaft with your hole. 
“Keigo…” you whine, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. 
His only answer was to hush you quietly, reaching out to pet the top of your head as he rested against you. He certainly felt better, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop until he knew his seed took. 
“Baby Bird…” he groaned, feeling himself begin to harden again.
You perk up, noticing that his cock, something you had thought died down after finishing, came to stand in a full erection once more inside of you. 
“Keigs…” you cry out, feeling fuller than ever.
“I’m sorry baby bird, but I just can’t stop...” 
You feel him begin to move again and realize quickly that this wasn’t just a one time thing. 
It really was going to be a long night.
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pedrito-friskito · 11 months
Note
My special prompt is for Javier Peña Ranch with a special combo for fluff and smut! If you're up for it! 😍💜
Fluff prompt: #6
Smut prompt:#6
Can't wait to see what you bring us!! Happy Sunday and happy writing!!! 🥰❤️
xoxo
SKYEEEEEEEEE ohhohohohoh let me tell you I saw ‘ranch” and then I saw those prompts and my brain said LET’S FUCKING GO. going back to the ranch is always so much fun for me, and this was the perfect opportunity for something delicious, sexy, and deliciously sexy 😍 I hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting my love!! xoxoxo
strawberry shortcake - the ranch - javier peña x fem!reader
word count: 3k
warnings: explicit smut, lots of teasing, shower sex, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), I regret NOTHING
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It all starts in the morning.
As usual, Javi’s out the door with the sun, getting done the few things that need doing on the weekends, the Saturday sun beating down on his back with every step. By ten o’clock, he’s heading back to the house, the animals fed and watered. Getting closer to the house, he can hear music on the radio, and when he steps up the porch, he can see you through the screen door, dancing around the kitchen.
Every little thing she does is magic, everything she do just turns me on
Javier chuckles under his breath, pulling the door open and stepping inside, tossing his hat and his gloves onto the bench beside the door. You don’t notice at first, preoccupied with whatever it is you’re baking. There’s a bowl of cut strawberries on the counter, and the heat lingering in the air tells him the oven is on. He leans against the kitchen doorway, crossing his arms over his chest, one boot propped over the other, just watching as you unhook a bowl from under the stand mixer. The whisk attached to the mixer drips with whipped cream.
You curse, wiping the white off the counter with your finger and sucking it between your lips. Javier inhales sharply, watching your tongue dart out when some cream lingers at the corner of your mouth. It takes everything in him not to stick his hand down the front of his suddenly too-tight jeans.
“You’re up early,” he calls, announcing his presence. It makes you jump anyway, nearly dropping the bowl as you turn to set it on the island. You smack a hand to your chest, eyes going wide.
“Christ, Javi!” you half-shout, but there’s a smile on your face. “That whipped cream was nearly all over the floor.”
“Didn’t mean to spook you,” he says, stepping forward until he can twine his arms around your waist, leaning down to fit his face into your neck. You hum happily as he does it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I was hoping you’d still be in bed when I came back.”
“Well, we have to leave for Connie and Steve’s in an hour or so,” you reply, “and this shortcake isn’t gonna make itself.”
Javi groans into your throat. Right. The party. He’d partially forgotten. 
Connie and Steve moved to Laredo recently — further into the slowly-growing suburbs than the ranch was — and were throwing a house-warming party of sorts. You’d gone into the city one night this week to pick out a gift, returning with a few tasteful picture frames and a stuffed bunny for Olivia, and had reminded him last night you wanted to stop at a florist on the way there to get flowers for Connie.
“You agreed, Jav,” you laugh, tipping your head back while he lets his mustache scrape along your pulse. “Besides, it’ll only be a couple hours, then we can come home and you can have me all to yourself all night long.”
The mere idea of it makes his jeans tighter still, and he nips at your skin, earning himself a smack to the shoulder.
“Watch it! You know Connie’ll give me hell if I show up covered in hickies.”
“Love bites,” he corrects, pulling his head up, meeting your eyes. A strand of hair falls in your face, and he brushes it away, leans in to kiss your mouth, tasting the cream on your lips. “Mmm, sweet.”
“Love bites, sure,” you repeat, rolling your eyes. “Go get in a shower, cowboy.”
He pulls away from you reluctantly. “Does that mean you’re not joining me?”
“If the cake is done before you’re out, then maybe.”
“Querida,” he pouts and you push him in the direction of the stairs.
“Enough with the puppy dog eyes!” you laugh, still grinning. “Go!”
Ten minutes later, the cake is cooling on the counter and he has you pressed against the shower wall. The wet rope of your hair curls around his wrist as he holds you in place, your feet outside of his, your back arched and your moans filling the bathroom. His other hand is curled around your hip, grunting with every snap of his hips, the smack of your ass against the tops of his thighs.
He cums fast, driving his cock deep, and then yanks you up, banding his arm beneath your tits, his other hand moving to your clit, drawing fast circles that have you keening in his arms. You shower fast after that, taking turns beneath the spray, and you slink out first after kissing him soundly.
The bathroom is still full of steam when he gets out, and Javi takes his time, checking his discarded watch to see how much time he has. He brushes his teeth, combs his hair, shaves the bit of stubble from his jaw. When he walks back to the bedroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you are nowhere to be found, but you’ve laid out his red plaid shirt on the bed, along with a dark pair of jeans and his black leather belt.
Half an hour, and he’s walking down the stairs, fingers hooked into his belt as he turns down the hall to the kitchen.
His jaw nearly hits the floor, and his jeans are tight all over again.
You look absolutely edible.
Javier is pretty sure he’s never seen this dress before. His mind is a rolodex when it comes to you, full of details and moments and lists. Among those lists is his favourite outfits of yours — most of which are for bedroom use only, but there are a good few others that are outside-friendly. But this dress…he’s never seen this dress before.
It hangs off you perfectly, accentuating every curve of your body. It’s a pale turquoise colour, with little peach flowers all over it. There are buttons down the front, and the straps are thin, thin enough for him to know you’re not wearing a bra underneath.
Javi wolf-whistles, and you jump again, tilting your head back with a laugh as he walks into the kitchen, stepping toward you. “Don’t you look at me like that, Javier Peña,” you chide, pointing a finger in his direction. “You already had your way in the shower.”
“My way?” he repeats, lifting a brow as he moves behind you, letting his hands rest on your hips. The fabric of the dress is impossibly soft. “Pretty sure we both got our way, didn’t we?”
“We did,” you say, giggling as he presses his chest to your back. “I’m just saying, you got what you wanted, and we don’t have time—” The end of your sentence cuts off with a gasp as he slides his hand between your legs, pushing the heel of his palm against your cunt.
“Time for what, querida?” he asks, dragging the tip of his nose along your neck. “You know as well as I do I could make you cum right here and now.”
“Javi.” Your fingers curl around his wrist, and for a moment he thinks you’re going to pull his hand away, but you don’t. “You’re gonna make us late.”
“And Steve can give me hell about it all afternoon if he likes,” he replies, stepping away from the counter and the half-finished cake, taking you with him. You go willingly, melting into his arms.
Two minutes later, and he has you bent over the arm of the couch, eating your pussy from behind, the skirt of your dress bunched in his fists. Your thighs quake against his face, your underwear hooked around one ankle, and Javi lets one hand glance down the back of your leg as you cum with a shout, one arm reaching around to bury your hand in his hair.
Satisfied, Javier leans back on his feet, leaving a wet kiss on one cheek and delivering a quick spank to the other. It makes you moan and he grins, helping you back into your underwear, letting your skirt fall back down over your ass. You straighten slowly, still catching your breath, and Javi grabs your chin, kissing you hard, enough that he hopes you can taste yourself on his tongue.
“Ready to go, baby?”
Twenty minutes later, and you’re both in the truck, the gifts in the backseat, the strawberry shortcake boxed and resting at your feet. You turn up the radio as Javier drives, rolling down the windows to let the summer breeze waft through the truck cab.
Before you make it into the busier streets of the city, you pull your feet up under you, loosening your belt slightly so you can lean over the middle console of the truck. Javi lifts his brow as your hand curls around his bicep, skimming up and down his arm.
“I really love this shirt on you,” you mutter, leaning closer until you can press your lips beneath his ear. “Looks so fucking good, baby.”
He opens his mouth, but no words come out, only a low groan as your hand moves down between his legs, cupping him through his jeans, the heat of your hand seeping through the material.
“Cariño,” he mutters, gritting his teeth as the blood rushes south, cock twitching in his pants. “I will pull this truck over, I swear to god.”
Just as the words are past his lips, the streets grow busier, the countryside giving way to the suburbs, and you sink back into your seat, returning your feet to the floor, resting your hand over his on the gearshift.
“Are you okay, Javi, sweetheart?” you ask, your voice falsely sweet as you lace your fingers through his. “You look a little flushed.”
He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and presses the gas a little harder. You just laugh.
Connie and Steve are excited to see you both, and Olivia doubly so. You’ve seen them a few times since you and Javi became an official item, and while Livvy loves her Uncle Javi, she loves you even more. The afternoon is spent in the Murphys’ large backyard, filled to bursting with lawn chairs and tables, a little inflatable pool for the kids, overflowing coolers filled with beer and soda for the adults. Steve pulls Javier in every direction, introducing him to their new neighbours, Steve’s new colleagues and the like. A few are familiar faces to Javi, and there’s the inevitable conversation of how it’s such a small world, inquiries about Javier’s parents, the ranch, etcetera.
And the whole time, Javi keeps an eye on you.
Connie has commandeered you as much as Steve has Javier, introducing you to all her friends and the neighbours. He’s watched as you’ve done the rounds, chatting with people, offering Connie help with refilling the coolers or setting out snacks. Olivia has most of your attention, however, and Javi watches more than once how she wobbles over to wherever you’re standing, wraps her little fingers around yours and pulls you over to the blanket of toys Connie laid out for her. You go willingly each time, a beaming smile on your face.
Now, Javier watches with a grin on his own mouth as Olivia giggles wildly, her little feet kicking while you blow raspberries on her little belly. Connie sits beside you on the blanket, the two of you chatting between Olivia’s requests to stack blocks or give voices to her stuffed animals.
“So, when are you gonna put a ring on that girl’s finger, Jav?” Steve asks, the words almost too loud, handing Javier another beer. He feels his ears go red as he takes the bottle, taking a long sip before Steve touches his boot to Javi’s. “Seriously, man. She’s an angel.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Javi quips, glancing at Steve before his eyes dart back to you. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Think less,” Steve tells him, tipping his bottle toward Javi. “It’ll just get you into more trouble. Just ask her. Honestly, Javi, I’ve never seen you this happy.” His ex-partner lifts a brow. “Or is the sex just that good?”
Javier chokes on his beer. He sputters, instantly wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Shut the fuck up, Murphy.”
More conversations are had, more of Steve’s friends joining the circle to talk shop, football games and the new sports bar that opened downtown. It all sort of fades into the background for Javier as his gaze continually returns to you. Eventually, Connie pulls Steve away to help with something, the others go to make conversation elsewhere, and Javi is left alone in his chair.
He’s not lonely for long, however, because just as he’s setting his empty beer bottle down on the ground beside him, you materialize in front of him, dangling a fresh beer in front of his nose, the condensation dripping down the glass.
“Querida,” he grins, taking the beer before reaching for you, curling an arm around your waist. “Come here, you hot little thing.”
You throw your head back and laugh, falling into his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck. He leans in and kisses the hinge of your jaw, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin, the flowery smell of your hair. It’s intoxicating. You sink fully into his lap, leaning against his chest, moaning as you go.
“Ugh, that feels good,” you groan, tilting your head back so the sun pours over your face. “These shoes are killing me.”
Javier nips at your earlobe. “Moan for me again; it sounded nice.”
You smack his chest, straightening slightly. “Javi.”
“I’m just teasing.”
“Aren’t you always?”
He just chuckles, shaking his head as you lean back against his chest again. Javi rubs his hand up and down your back, drawing circles on the bare skin between your shoulders, letting his fingers dip beneath the fabric of the dress just a bit.
You hum quietly, resting your head on his shoulder. “Honestly, Jav, how are you so comfy? I could sit on you all day.”
Javi presses his lips together, feeling your face grow hot as you realize what you’ve said. He tightens his arm around your waist, squeezes your hip through the fabric of your dress. “You know you have an open invitation for that, querida.”
He can almost see the goosebumps rise across your skin, and you wiggle your hips slightly, adjusting yourself in his lap. His cock twitches at the friction and you drape both arms around his neck, leveling your face with his. You peck the tip of his nose, but then your mouth slips south, kissing his top lip softly. He can tell you’re restraining yourself, and it only makes him harder.
The hand not curled around your hip starts rubbing up and down your legs, and when your knees part slightly, he finds his opening, glancing around to make sure no one’s paying you any mind before he lets his hand slide right up your skirt, fingers skimming up the inside of your knee.
“Javier.”
He pushes his face into your neck again, making it look like he’s whispering something to you, a secret for your ears only. “You think anyone would notice if I started fingering you right now?” he asks, and you don’t reply, but he hears the quiet gasp, the hitch in your breath. “You can be good for me, can’t you, querida? Let me play with that pretty pussy, but don’t let anybody know what we’re doing. Hmm?”
You twine your fingers in the back of his hair and tug, hard enough that his head lifts from your throat. “Javier Peña, you’re a menace.”
“You’re the menace, cariño,” he responds, raising his brows. “Who gave you the right to look so fucking delicious in that dress, hmm? I oughta teach you a lesson.”
The corner of your mouth quirks. “Mm, I think I’d enjoy that lesson.”
He gives you a quick peck. “I’ll make sure that you do.”
Your grin turns full-blown. “And speaking of delicious, my shortcake was a hit, but I really think we should get home soon, Javi. There’s lots more whipped cream in the fridge, and I’d hate for it to go to waste.”
An hour and a half later, and you’re home. You’re home, and you barely made it through the door, a trail of clothes leading from the front porch and into the kitchen. The tile floor is cool against Javi’s bare skin, but he feels like he’s on fire all at the same time.
The bowl of whipped cream sits off to the side. You’re as naked as he is, sitting astride his face, your knees pressing against his shoulders. Javi’s got his hands on your hips again, holding onto you tightly, groaning into the inside of your thigh as you drop another dollop of whipped cream at the base of his cock. It’s cold — almost too cold — but the coolness turns to heat as you close your mouth around him again, the warmth of your mouth almost too much to bear. Your tongue rides the veins of his cock, laving at the base while the tip hits the back of your throat, cleaning the whipped cream from his skin.
He yanks you down hard, sealing his mouth around your cunt, pushing his tongue into your dripping hole. You keen, moaning around his cock, and the vibration makes him moan right back into you. You don’t let up, not until he’s cumming hot down your throat, and even then, you pull off him with a quiet pop, instantly dropping your head to lick the rest of the whipped cream up. It sends chills through his whole body, leaves him writhing on the floor, and he taps your thighs, signaling you to get off.
Javier doesn’t let you go far, pulling you back against him as soon as you’re upright, both of you on your knees on the kitchen tile. With one hand, he smears whipped cream around your nipple, mouth lowering to lick it up a moment later, and the other finds its way between your legs, thumb circling your clit, two fingers sinking into you.
“Javi,” you groan, your head dropping back on your shoulders, one hand diving into his hair as he scrapes his teeth against your nipple, reaching for more whipped cream before moving to the other. “Oh my fucking god.”
He drags his tongue against you before flicking his eyes up to your face. “Moan my name again, querida,” he grins. “It sounded nice.”
“Javier.”
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