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alvojake · 1 month

Note

idol sunghoon getting pissed because of his idol gf got into a dating scandal with his co-member, and his gf liked the way he got pissed, so he decided to show her who she really belongs to (??)

「notes」 : anony c'mere lemme just *😚🧠* you gave me an inch, and I swear I took it like ten miles... so lemme just say that I contemplated this and I may or may not have gone a little stir crazy (that and I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating...), so I sincerely apologize for the nastiness you're about to set your eyes upon 🫣🫣

Mark Me Yours | P.SH

「pairing」 : idol!bf!sunghoon x idol!fem!reader 「word count」 : 5k

「synopsis」 : the first time you were caught out with jake by the press it was an accident, but after seeing your boyfriend's jealous reaction you couldn't help but want to see more. so you went out with jake time and time again, even going as far as being a little too friendly with jake just to see how much sunghoon could take before he snapped. though your outcome probably wasn't exactly what you had in mind.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : cursing, biting/marking, rough makeout session, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), usage of toys, begging, degradation, choking, hair pulling, bondage, pussy slapping, clit play, face fucking, cum eating, dacryphilia, squirting, spitting, kinda toxic possessiveness, mean!dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (please don't), orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, photography, breeding kink, creampie, manhandling, slight breath play, sunghoon is a bit sadistic, mentions of a safeword (but it's not used), petnames (princess, baby, slut, whore…), mentions of blood, implications of multiple rounds, lmk if I missed anything!

You lay out lazily on your boyfriend's bed, waiting for him to finish his shower after he had a long day at work. Scrolling through Twitter, laughing to yourself as you come across yet another article, 'Timeless y/n and Enhypen Jake Spotted Together Once Again, Coincidence or Not?' This had to be the third or fourth article within the last two weeks.

When the first article dropped after you were spotted with Jake at a local coffee shop, you were beyond worried about how your boyfriend would take it. However, seeing his face twist in annoyance and jealousy flipped a switch in you. The way his jaw would clench when he’d spot people on Instagram or Twitter talking about you and Jake, or when ship edits started to get posted of the two of you, or even when you were sitting in the room alone with just Jake. It was insanely attractive and left you dripping in your panties.

Sunghoon knew it wasn’t your fault for what the press did or didn’t post, but he also couldn’t help the way that it pissed him off beyond belief every time he saw the photos.

You then made it your goal to see just how much your boyfriend could take before he finally snapped. So you continued to go out in public with Jake, knowing you could be spotted just so you could get a rise out of your boyfriend. After the first week or so, you stepped it up a little bit. Getting a little too friendly with Jake, laughing at his jokes a little too hard, your hands wondering his body a little too much, your voice a little too surly when you talked to him, being just a little too close. Jake, of course, was oblivious to all of your little antics, thinking you were just being friendly and sweet like you usually were. It started to drive Sunghoon up a wall, so much so that he had to avoid being in the same room as Jake so he wouldn’t lash out at the poor boy. Eventually, he caught on to what you were trying to do, and he could feel his blood boil. He could handle you being a brat, but this? He was damn near his wits end, a hair away from snapping.

Coming back to the present, you were snapped out of your thoughts when a knock at the door was heard. Muttering a quick ‘come in,’ you weren’t too surprised to see Jake standing there, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket.

“Hey, Jakey.” You smiled sweetly at the boy who returned your gesture before looking around the room, presumably looking for your dark-haired boyfriend.

And just as you thought, the question fell from his lips, “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“He’s in the shower,” you told him, and Jake nodded before walking over, flopping down onto the bed, his upper body draped over your lap.

“Did you see the new article?” He pouted as he started to pick at the end of your skirt, causing you to smile, but you nodded your head before tilting your phone screen down to show him that you had been reading it. Jake sighed dramatically, his face falling into the side of your thigh, “I hope they stop soon. I’m pretty sure Hoon is gonna strangle me the next time one comes out.” He shivered at the thought, causing you to start laughing.

You knew he was right. Sunghoon has been avoiding Jake like the plague for the past few days. Anger and annoyance are the main expressions he wears anymore. His jaw is always locked tight, afraid he might say the wrong thing. But you were enjoying it, maybe a little too much.

Just then, the bathroom door swung open, ceasing your laughter as Sunghoon walked into the room, towel in hand, drying his damp hair. However, as soon as his eyes landed on you and Jake in his bed, you could have sworn you saw a fuse blow in his head. His eyes darkened into a glare, demanding that Jake leave, not a single bit of room left open for discussion.

Jake nearly levitates off of the bed before rushing out of the room as quickly as he possibly could, not wanting to be at the end of your boyfriend's wrath. You watched with an amused smirk as Sunghoon's eyes trailed from the doorway back to you.

“Is this really that amusing to you?” His voice was cold as he walked towards the open door; it sent a shiver down your spine and your thighs clenching together. You, however, just hummed with a shrug before looking back down at your phone. You peeked over the top of it, excitement bubbling in your chest as you watched Sunghoon slam the door shut before turning the lock. The moment you had been waiting for was finally about to happen; you finally got him to snap. You mentally cheered, completely missing the borderline psychotic gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes.

Sunghoon walked back to the end of the bed, a snarl pulling on his upper lip, revealing his pointy canine. The very canines you wished would mark your body up, leaving behind puncture wounds and bruises even though you would get a lot of shit from your manager and makeup artist. He never did, though, because he knew the stakes; however, now? Now, all of those thoughts. All of the sane thoughts, really. Completely vanished from his mind.

He leaned over the bed, grabbing your outstretched ankle before yanking your body down to him. A small gasp fell from your lips at the sudden action but was quickly quieted when you bit your tongue as Sunghoon hovered over you, slotting his body against yours.

The dark, lustful look in his eyes had your body wiggling in anticipation, a shock rushing through your veins when you felt his erection against your thinly covered core. Thinking back to all of the stuff you did to get here made you giggle because you thought you had finally won. Or so you thought. Sunghoon, on the other hand, found it far, so far, from amusing.

“Well, see how much you’ll be laughing, princess,” He chuckled darkly before his slender fingers wrapped tightly around your throat, causing your breath to hitch, but all the air was soon taken out of your lungs when he kissed you hard.

A cry tore from your lungs when he bit down on your bottom lip before sucking on it. You were sure that it had drawn blood, but your mind was quickly bought elsewhere when his other hand cupped your boob, squeezing harshly.

“You just like the attention, huh?” He growled, nipping at your jaw, “You’re just a little attention whore, is that it?”

You whined as his grip on your throat got tighter, not enough to completely cut off your air supply, but definitely enough to make you feel a little lightheaded. Sunghoon was typically always rough when it came to sex, but this? This was new, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on even more.

“Don’t think I don’t know what your little game was.” His voice was deep, sending shock waves throughout your body, “How you purposely left with Jake knowing the press was watching,” He moved his hand, allowing you to breathe, but not long before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck causing you to cry out his name, “or how you threw yourself all over Jake…” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as he continued to bite and suck on your neck, leaving deep purple and red marks. “All for what, huh? My attention? Well, guess what, princess, now you have it.”

You knew you probably pushed him way over the edge the moment he started to mark up your skin. While his hands were tight enough on your body, you were sure they’d leave bruises behind. Then that dark lust that clouded his eyes was the final ringer that let you know, ‘oh I really fucked up’.

“Hoon-” “What’s the safe word?” Oh, you definitely fucked up; you knew he never mentioned the safe word unless he was going to be rough. The two of you only came up with it just as percussion, mainly when you tried something new. But for him to ask now when you could clearly see the anger in his eyes? Yeah, you were screwed.

When he didn’t get an answer quickly enough, he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together, and moved his face merely inches away from yours.

“What’s. The. Word. Y/n.” Sunghoon snarled, enunciating every word with a glare. Your eyes were wide, not quite out of fear but something else you weren’t sure what to call.

“Purple.” You responded to the best of your ability with his hand on your face, eyes staring into his.

Then he let go of your face before pushing off of your body, standing flat on his feet. You pushed yourself up, eyes on him, ready to ask what he was doing. However, his voice was quick to beat you to it.

“Strip and on your knees.”

The tone of his voice was already enough to leave you dripping in your underwear, but the way his eyes bore into you made your whole body shiver. This new side of Sunghoon was something you never thought you would need, but it is now. You wanted so badly to disobey him, but you knew that if you continued to push his buttons, he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you without cumming.

So, with shaky legs, you pulled yourself to your feet before slowly undoing the button on your skirt and letting it fall to the floor. You could feel Sunghoon’s fiery gaze on you as you pulled your shirt over your head and threw it somewhere in the room. Once you were left standing there completely bare before him, Sunghoon walked over and put his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down onto your knees.

“Now be a good girl and put that pretty mouth of yours to use,” He spoke lowly, his finger combing through your hair until he got to the crown of your head. A whimper fell from your lips as you placed your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself when he tugged your head back harshly. “And I swear to god you try to tease, I will leave you here tied to the bed with a vibrator attached to your cunt.” The way his upper lip pulled back to show his pointed tooth, you knew he wasn’t lying.

"O-Okay," You choked out as he cranked your neck back a little more, eliciting a cry from your lips. He then let go, standing straight again, allowing you to slightly relax your neck. You wasted no time pulling his sweatpants' string loose before hooking your fingers around the waistband to pull them down. Once his pants were pooled at his feet, you lifted yourself up a bit, mouth watering at the sight of your boyfriend's dick.

Sunghoon then held something out to you, and your eyes went wide at the sight of the little pink egg, “Put this in that needy little hole of yours, and don’t you dare cum without my permission.” Your gaze shifted from the little toy to your boyfriend’s hooded gaze before taking it into your hand.

You kept your eyes locked with his as you brought the toy down to your pulsating heat, rubbing it up and down to collect your slick to use as lube. The slight stretch it offered left a whine falling from your lips, but it wasn’t nearly enough. That’s what you thought, at least, until a sudden vibration caused your whole body to jolt and a moan to slip past your lips. Then it was gone. Sunghoon watched from above as your body relaxed a bit, your eyes shifting to meet his once more.

He then grabbed himself at the base before tapping the head against your lips, prompting you to open your mouth. You parted your lips, sticking your tongue out, letting him drag his tip across your wet muscle, hissing at the contact. Shuffling a bit closer, you encased your lips around his tip, causing him to groan. Sunghoon gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail before thrusting his hips forward, sheathing his entire length in your mouth. Thankfully, your gag reflex was almost nonexistent; otherwise, you were sure you would be a choking mess.

His pace started out steady; his hold on your hair kept your head in place. Until he found his rhythm, and his hips snapped forward, hitting the back of your throat, causing tears to prick at the corner of your eyes. Then the little toy inside of you buzzed to life, causing a moan to tear through your throat, muffled by his dick. The vibrations caused Sunghoon’s head to fall back with a groan.

Your head started to go fuzzy with pleasure as Sunghoon continued to piston his hips until your nose brushed his pelvis bone. The vibrations then kicked up, causing your body to jolt, nails to dig into his thighs, and you to moan around his cock. All of the sensations were overwhelming, and you weren’t sure if you would last much longer, but then Sunghoon’s words echoed in your brain. Knowing that he would punish you even more if you came without his permission, you tried your best to hold it in.

The drag of his cock along your tongue was enough to have your eyes roll back as you pressed the wet appendage against him.

“Fuck, this is supposed to be a punishment, yet you look like you enjoy sucking my dick.” He chuckled darkly before a throaty groan broke from his lips, his hips stuttering as he got closer to his high. You hummed around him, trying to keep yourself grounded, but you nearly choked as he turned the vibrations up to the highest setting. Tears were spilling from your eyes as you screwed them shut, pleasure overriding your senses.

Sunghoon wanted to burn this image into his memory, the tears running down your flushed cheeks. How the mixture of his pre-cum and your saliva dripped from your chin. The dark purple and red bite marks that covered the skin of your neck. The way your hips rocked against nothing but the air as you struggled to keep from tipping over the edge. God, it was a picture-perfect sight; if he could, he would share it with the world. A clear sign that you were his.

The thought of all of your guys' fans seeing it drove him over the edge, his dick twitching in your mouth as he painted your throat white. An animalist growl tore through his mouth as he rocked his hip, riding out his high before shutting the vibrator off. He then pulled out of your mouth, watching as you closed your lips, swallowing his seed without a word. You then opened your mouth once more, tongue lolling out to show him.

He then tugged on your hair, causing you to whine as you stood on wobbly legs. Not giving you a moment to breathe before his lips found yours in a heated kiss. He groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue before maneuvering you back until your knees hit the bed. A gasp fell from your lips as Sunghoon picked you up and crawled onto the bed before laying you flat on your back.

Sunghoon pulled away from your lips, pressing hot, wet kisses along your jugular down to your breast before encasing one of your nipples in his mouth. A breathy moan escaped your parted lips as your fingers ran through his hair, tugging slightly.

A loud cry escaped from your lips, and tears fell from your eyes when the vibrator kicked back to life. Your hips bucking against Sunghoon’s body, and your hands tugging on his hair. The male smirked as your body tensed underneath his, listening to every little noise that left your pretty lips.

“Hoon- fuck!” You cried out when you felt his slim fingers prodding at your entrance, thumb pressed against your clit. There was no way you were going to be able to last long at this rate, but when you met his dark gaze, you knew you had no other choice.

Your back arched off of the bed when he pushed two of his fingers into your pussy, pushing the little egg further in. A lewd, pornographic moan tore from your lungs when it pressed against your sweet spot.

“Found it,” Sunghoon chuckled, pulling his mouth away from your tits to watch as your body convulsed under him. His fingers started to pump in and out of your slick walls while turning the vibrator up.

Your ears were ringing, and your brain was starting to go blank as your body became overwhelmed with pleasure. Moans and cries of Sunghoon’s name fell from your lips like a mantra, and you could feel that little knot tighten to the point of almost snapping.

“‘M close! Hoon, please!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Then, just like that, your orgasm was ripped away from you when Sunghoon pulled not only his fingers out but the vibrator as well. Pleas and whines slipped past your swollen lips as your vision focused, but your words were cut short when Sunghoon wrapped his fingers around your throat once more.

“Oh no, baby, you seem to have forgotten.” He left a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips before moving to your ear, “this is a punishment, you’ll cum when I say you can.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you locked eyes with your boyfriend, your mind reeling. This wasn’t how you expected things to go; sure, you knew he was going to punish you, but this? Your whole body was on fire, and the touch of Sunghoon’s finger felt like it was searing your skin, leaving behind traces of his touch.

Your jaw fell slack as Sunghoon slipped his fingers back into your dripping cunt, moving at a harsh pace. His thumb presses down in tight circles on your clit. Cries left your lips as you tried to push your boyfriend's hand away from your sore hole, but he was quick to grab your wrists with a growl, pinning them above your head.

“Don’t be a brat, be a good little slut and take my fingers.” His words stung in all the right ways, and your cunt squeezed around his fingers. Sunghoon smirked before catching your lips in a bruising kiss, muffling all the moans escaping your throat.

Your head fell back as you tried to wiggle your hips away from Sunghoon’s hand, the sensation becoming too much, almost mind-numbing. Sunghoon pulled his fingers out before landing a firm smack on your clit, causing a loud cry to fall from your lips, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“What did I say?” His tone was a low growl, sliding his finger back in.

“Please, Hoon, it’s- fuck! ‘S too much.” Your cries only spurred your boyfriend on, speeding his fingers up.

Broken sobs fell from your mouth as you felt that same knot in your gut reappear, but you knew that he would just rip that away. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand as you tried to ground yourself, but his fingers just kept rubbing your velvet walls in all the right ways, making stars cloud your vision. And then it was gone once again.

Sunghoon’s dick twitched at the sight of your tear-streaked face, loving how your makeup smeared under your eyes, how tears stuck to your eyelashes as you looked up at him with the fuck-out expression he loves so much. His eyes then traveled down the length of your body, your hands pinned so perfectly under his, the love bites that littered your neck and chest, the sheen of sweat that coated your body, then, finally, your dripping cunt. Your slick leaked out onto his sheets, leaving a wet patch. The sight made him rock hard once more, to the point that it almost hurt.

His silence was worrying to you because you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, let alone what he was going to do next. Just then, he released your wrist before leaning over to his bedside table. Your eyes widened as he pulled out the bundle of black rope, shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’ll be good, I promise! Sunghoon, please.” You begged, tears streaming from your eyes. However, those pleas were cut short when he glared down at you, holding his hand out for yours. “Sung-”

“Hands. Now.” His tone left no room for negotiation, and with a whine, you placed your hands in his. Watching as he bound your wrists together before pulling them above your head to attach them to the headboard. Once you were locked in place, he leaned down, face mere centimeters away from yours. “Should have thought about that before, huh?” His voice was harsh, his eyes gleaming, almost sadistic. “Maybe I should mark up this perfect body of yours; then maybe you’ll get the idea that you’re mine.”

You bite your lip as he moves down your body, hooking his hands under your thighs, lifting your lower half until your ass rests on his chest, legs hanging over his shoulders. The position was extremely uncomfortable, but that soon slipped away from your mind when his lips latched to the inside of your thigh. Your breathing was ragged, breathy moans and whines falling from your lips as he left bites and marks all along your inner thighs.

Once he was satisfied with all of the marks, he moved down, blowing on your drenched pussy, watching as you clenched around nothing. Sunghoon gathered a ball of saliva in his mouth before letting it drop onto your clit, watching as it trailed down to join the abundance of slick. Your eyes watched his movements, lips tucked between your teeth. He then dived right into your pussy, licking a long stripe from your slit to your clit before harshly sucking on the bundle of nerves, eliciting a strangled moan from your lungs.

“Holy shit!” You cried out as your head flew back into his pillows, hips bucking into his face. Sparks flew across your vision as he held onto your hips, tight enough to halt any of your movements.

Sunghoon then trailed back down to your slit, sticking his tongue in, tasting your sweetness as it gushed out onto his tongue. He hummed at the taste, sending vibrations through your core and making you cry out his name, hands clenched into fists above your head. He continued to eat you out like a starved man while you were a whining mess under him, tugging on the restraints, hoping they would budge, but they didn’t.

“Hoon- fuck, please don’t stop.” You cried out, head falling back as he latched his lips to your clit once more, drawing patterns on the little button. The pillow under your head had your tears stains on it as the salty liquid continued to flow from your eyes at the instrumental amount of pleasure you were feeling.

You begged him not to stop as you felt that knot reappear once more, hoping that he would finally let you have that release. Sunghoon smirked against your core, listening to your choked pleas and moans. His movements didn’t let up as your body started to twitch, a tell-tale sign that you were close.

“Cum for me slut.” He growled against your skin; the mixture of the vibrations and his teeth slightly scraping against your clit had you toppling over the edge. Your body convulsed in his hold, toes curling behind his head and his name leaving your mouth in a borderline scream. It all just spurred your boyfriend on as he continued to devour you, easily throwing your body into overstimulation.

All of your body muscles tensed, and your shoulders grew sore from the angle at which they were placed. You were sure that your legs wouldn’t be usable the next day, nor would your voice, but that was a problem for future you to worry about. Right now, your brain is far too cloudy to think straight, pleasure drowning all of your senses.

A silent scream tore through your lips as Sunghoon placed the little vibrating egg against your clit. Your legs moved to snap close, but Sunghoon was quicker than that, grabbing hold of one of your thighs and keeping it in place. The mixture of the vibrations and his tongue buried in your cunt had your legs shaking by his head, another orgasm already on the horizon.

Inchohent moans and noises fell from your lips as he brought you over the edge once more, eyes squeezed shut. Sunghoon slurped up all of your juices, not leaving a single drop before pulling the vibrator away from your twitching clit. He then kissed the bundle of nerves, causing a small squeak to leave your lips. Your eyes then opened slowly, meeting Sunghoon’s eyes as he looked down at you with a smug look.

As he laid your body down, you could feel your muscles relaxing, and you closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath. However, your eyes snapped open when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“You didn’t think we were done already, did you princess?” He chuckled, watching the shock on your face morph into pleasure as he slid in with little resistance. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand as a choked sob tore from your lungs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” The word fell from your lips in a rushed chant as Sunghoon’s hips started to slam against yours. “‘S too much, Hoon!” You cried out as your back arched off the bed.

“No, it’s not; just shut up and take it,” Sunghoon growled, hands holding onto your hips with a vice-like grip. A high-pitched squeal broke through your parted lips when his hand came up and wrapped around your throat once more, “who’s pussy is this? Who’s making you feel this good? Who do you belong to?”

“You.” The words choked through your lips, but that didn’t fully satisfy the male; no, he wanted to make sure everyone knew.

Leaning down, he ghosted his lips over yours, “Then say it.”

He then leaned back up and pounded into your sensitive cunt making your head spin, “Fuck! Yours, Sunghoon!” You screamed as your head fell back, missing the sadistic smirk on your boyfriend’s lips.

Sunghoon continued to thrust hard and deep into you, his pace never slowing, and you could already feel another orgasm creeping up. The words came out jumbled as you tried to warn him, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your neck.

You were clenching around his dick like crazy, causing him to groan, “fuck keep doing that, and I’m bound to breed this cunt of yours.” The words only made you clench around him again, making him chuckle, “You want that, don’t you? You want my seed filling your womb until you’re sure to get pregnant, huh?” You mewled at his words, fucked out eyes looking up to beg.

Seeing the expression on your face almost drove Sunghoon over the edge, your tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes that were begging him to cum inside, then your swollen lips that were parted as you moaned out his name. Fuck he wasn’t going to last much longer. Taking his hand off of your neck, he moved down to press his thumb against your clit, circling it in tight circles. Your hips bucked at his touch as your nerves were set aflame once more. The knot in your stomach tightened to an unimaginable level, but this one felt different. Like your body was about to burst, but before you could even get the chance to warn Sunghoon, your orgasm hit. Your release gushes out in waves, coating your and his thighs. A loud pornographic moan fell from your lips, and Sunghoon cursed under his breath at the sight.

“You fucking squirted, you filthy whore.” He chastises you, his hips stuttering as he feels his high creeping up. A whine fell from your lips as he continued to fuck into you at a harsh pace until he finally tipped over the edge with a groan, painting your gummy wall white.

Sunghoon continued to rock his hips into yours, riding out his high before coming to a complete stop. His eyes squeezed shut, feeling you wrapped around his still semi-hard dick, milking him for all he was worth. Opening his eyes, he let the flutter down to where the two of you were still connected, groaning at the sight of the white ring around the base of his cock. He wanted to capture this moment. So he did.

Leaning over, he grabbed your phone, which had been haphazardly thrown to the side, before opening the camera, ignoring the article you had pulled up. You didn’t even realize what he was doing as you tried to catch your breath until you heard the shutter click. Your eyes opened at the noise, surprised to see your boyfriend aiming the camera down at where his dick was still sheathed inside of your cunt.

Sunghoon could feel himself grow hard again at the sight, wanting nothing more than to make a big mess of the two of you. Swiping on the screen, he switched to the video recorder and hit the little red button before rocking his hips against yours. A whimper fell from your lips as he continued to toy with your puffy cunt.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, baby…" he chuckled darkly, his eyes meeting yours. "Far from it."

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @heesitation @riftanswhore @yeonzzzn @yzzyhee

2K notes · View notes

reidsdaisies · 3 months

Note

spencer beggin to nut in u :3333

digital footprint doesn't exist.

(𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖)

༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; pretty boy cursing and moaning (🫠), 1 use of ‘y/n’, kinda sub!spence? (its always sub spence), unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this!), spencer begging to nut inside you (🫠 x♾️) but not breeding kink, creampie.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; basically 0.6k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; Aine, coming to my rescue for the second time!! right now i’m working on that post-prison spencer and i know everything takes me a while (i’m the #1 procrastinator ☹️) but this one’s gonna take me a little longer too because i really want to make it a longer fic which is something i suck at cuz again i’m the slowest b ever in every aspect of life but i’ve got big plans. ik for sure i’m gonna go back and forth wondering if its good enough but i’m gonna try something new and stick to it

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Spencer has his head tightly tucked away in your neck, heavily panting as he picks up the pace of his hips moving against yours, his dick thrusting into you. He is so lost in the feeling of it all, that oh-so-familiar and oh-so-intoxicating feeling of your cunt clenching tight around him. Repeatedly, he shamelessly moans your name, pressing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss to your lips whenever he remembers he can pick his head up.

“Faster Spence, faster,” you moan, patting at his shoulder as you beg him for more, though it is clear that has been his plan all along.

“You’re so wet and- oh god- hot!” his voice cracks somewhere in the middle of his sentence, which just serves to turn you on impossibly more.

“You’re so fucking tight around me.” He bites, almost sounding angry though you know he’s feeling nothing more than pure ecstasy. His words are punctuated with an almost guttural moan from him. One of your hands finds its way up to his hair, tugging his face up that was just buried in the pillow beside your head and forcing him to look at you.

The two of you share a passionate kiss, this one different from the ones leading up to it. This time it’s more needy (if possible), executed with more purpose. He whines into your mouth, almost choking on your tongue as he rushes to pull back.

“I don’t think I can last much longer,” he whimpers against your lips, his face red, the heat from his desire scorching his skin, looking equally as defeated as he sounds, “please, baby, please, let me come inside.”

The furious pace he set of his hips falters slightly.

“Y/n!” He moans your name for the hundredth time tonight. “Please! I’m gonna come,” it’s a miracle such clear words are even able to come out of his mouth. To him it sounds like he’s speaking gibberish. His brain feels nonexistent at this point, he’s letting his body and deep carnal need for you take over him.

“Please, inside, lemme do it inside,” His voice sounds so broken, he’s so broken. His thrusts are noticeably sloppier, his breathing ten times heavier and more prominent in your ear as he’s fucking you at a pace you didn’t previously think him capable of.

Realizing he doesn’t have the strength to keep looking at you anymore, he just gives up, letting his head fall back to where it was a minute ago, planted in the soft, cloud-like feeling pillow beside your head.

“Then do it,” you moan, encouraging him to do just let go, fill you up. It doesn’t take a second after you give him the ok that he’s spasming, his mouth fallen open against your shoulder in a silent scream, as he fills you with his warmth.

Your orgasm is a blissful blur, the feeling of his cum being fucked back into you mixed with his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, albeit a bit shakily, sending you over the edge.

“Holy shit,” is all you manage to breathe out as your strained voice slowly starts to come back to you.

“Holy shit.” He repeats you in a softer, even more weak voice.

“Maybe we should forego the condoms more often.” You joke, barely even conscious at this point.

He whimpers just at the thought of it, using that 1 measly ounce of strength he has left to nod and peck you on the lips.

“I’d like that, a lot.”

2K notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 5 months

Text

our secret moments.

ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers

in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.

this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D

songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument

5.6k words

your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.

vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.

you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.

high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.

he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.

but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.

“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”

both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.

your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.

your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.

lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.

your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.

okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.

“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.

“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“

“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.

“he is!” you protest, waving them off.

you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.

“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.

“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.

the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.

you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.

“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.

you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.

“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”

lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.

it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.

you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.

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youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday

user: are they together?

otheruser: mother?

landonorris: lost millions.

user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.

and 444 other comments

you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.

apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.

“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.

“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.

“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.

“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.

you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.

lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.

“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.

“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.

“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.

lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.

“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.

“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”

he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.

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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)

landonorris: whoops?

user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?

user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.

user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?

yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.

otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW

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“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.

“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.

you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.

none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.

you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.

you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.

“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.

“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.

“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.

you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.

“lando, why are you doing this?”

“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.

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youruser: dinner w bestie

user: lando took this. bet.

user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando

landonorris: how was dinner?

youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.

user4: a date if i ever saw one?

user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?

user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr

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the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.

your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.

“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.

“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.

“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.

“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.

“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.

“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.

“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.

you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.

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user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.

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user: mommy? huh who said that?

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user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?

user81: oscar 😭😭

maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?

user11: the wags are fighting omg

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your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.

nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.

lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.

you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.

so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.

that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.

it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.

but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.

no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.

cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.

“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.

“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.

“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“

“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.

“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.

great, now you are crying.

“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“

alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.

“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.

fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.

“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*

“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.

“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.

your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.

you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.

you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.

the flight home is quiet.

your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.

you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.

you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.

he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.

“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.

“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.

your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.

“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.

“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.

“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.

“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.

“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.

“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”

“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.

“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.

“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.

“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”

fuck.

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you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.

from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?

he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.

you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.

the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.

you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.

he says your name, and the world stops for a second.

“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.

you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.

“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.

“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.

you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.

someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.

you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.

dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.

plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.

“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.

“lead the way.”

he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.

“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.

“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.

“come home with me.”

you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.

you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.

the door slams softly behind you.

lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.

“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.

your breath hitches in your throat.

“neither can i.” you whisper.

“we can be more.”

“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.

“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.

“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.

“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.

lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“can i…?” lando mutters.

you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.

“of course you can.”

he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.

you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.

“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.

the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.

“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.

“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.

“say it.”

“fucking incredible.”

“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.

his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.

his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.

lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.

“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.

“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.

“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.

lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.

“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.

he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.

he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.

“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.

“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.

your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.

the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.

lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.

one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.

“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.

lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.

“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.

“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.

“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.

“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”

“oh?” he coos, mockingly.

“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.

“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”

the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.

lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.

“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.

“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.

he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.

“you sure?”

“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.

it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.

your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.

you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.

lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.

“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”

the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.

you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.

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queers-gambit · 4 months

Text

Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

Steve x black cat! reader pls. I feel this paring is always necessary 😌

Thanks for requesting!

Steve Harrington x black cat!reader ♡ 625 words

You glower at your boyfriend through the dark lens of your sunglasses. “Don’t come near me with that.”

Steve smiles cajolingly, approaching with the sunscreen nonetheless. “C’mon, babe, you didn’t come out here just to sit under this umbrella all day.”

“You know I did.” You dart your stare pointedly to where the pale rocks are growing little puddles of lake water underneath his feet. “If you come over here and drip on my book—”

“Put the book away,” he coaxes. And he’s convincing, all shiny skin and even shinier smile and his pretty hair stuck damply to his forehead and the back of his neck. One tiny strand curls inward over the curve of his cheekbone, and you want terribly to slick it back in with the others but any affectionate gesture right now would feel too close to giving in. “Lemme put some sunscreen on you so you can come swim with the rest of us.”

“I’m fine here.”

“It’s really nice out there.” Steve sits down next to you like a mirror image, his hands by your feet and his feet next to your butt. “The lake’s not too cold or anything, you might like it.”

You suck your teeth. “I’m just trying to enjoy my book, Steve.”

He angles his head. “What, you don’t want to spend time with me?”

You angle your head right back, deadpan. “Don’t.”

“You know, Max really loves you,” he says, squirting a dollop of sunscreen into his hand and starting to smooth it up your calf. You wrinkle your nose at the smell. “She thinks you’re the coolest. Beats me why, but it’d probably make her week if you went out there.” You’re quiet, and he goes on, encouraged. He works the sunscreen over your knee, hands chaste and purposeful as they run the length of your thigh. “Plus, you know, you can read your book anytime, but these warm days are only gonna last so long before it’s freezing and snowy outside again.”

“I like when it’s freezing and snowy,” you say, setting your book down on top of your bag before one of you gets sunscreen on it.

“I know, but you won’t be getting the gun show when I’m all hidden under ten layers, y’know?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, and you look away from him, biting down on your smile. You feel more than see your boyfriend’s answering grin, spreading like a blight over his pretty face. He starts on your other leg.

“And if you come hang out, I’ve got an ice cream sandwich in the cooler with your name on it.” He brushes his thumb over the side of your knee sweetly. “Been saving it for you.”

You soften. A bit. “You could bring it to me here,” you point out.

Steve shakes his head, frowning as if he really doesn’t know who’s making these rules and wishes he could change them for you. “Can’t, sorry. Frozen treats are only for those of us out there braving the sun.”

You cross your arms. “You make it sound so pleasant.”

He takes one of your arms in his hands, disentangling your defensive stance to continue slathering you in sunscreen. “It’s really not bad,” he says. “Between the ice cream and the cool water, you can pretend it’s winter if you want.”

“Steve!” You both look out towards the lake, and Robin is waving him over. “Stop flirting with your girlfriend and come back here. We need more people to play chicken!”

Steve gives you a pleading look.

“I’m not getting wet,” you tell him firmly.

He grins and takes your hand, lotion-slicked palm sliding against your own as he pulls you up. “You won’t on my team, don’t worry.”

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koqabear · 2 years

Text

Hey Emo Boy!

☆ Song suggestion: Emo Boy, Ayesha Erotica ☆

Summary:

He worked at the Spencer’s store in the mall— you worked at the Claire’s store right in front. What can you say? Match made in heaven.

bassist!Beomgyu x fem! reader

Genre: opposites attract trope, friends to lovers, fluff, smut

Word count: 9.4K

Warnings: mc dresses like a BIMBO and we love it! mc gets stereotyped a bit, lots of piercings, needles, (bg gets pierced lol) mc has a smiley and nipple piercings, bg has snake bites and a tongue piercing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, cursing, Chaeryeong is a real one

Smut warnings: dom!bg, sub!mc, slight possessiveness, teasing, making out, thigh riding, dirty talk, dumbification, praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nipple play, bg loves mc’s boobs, oral, (f receiving) fingering, hair pulling, bulge kink, scratching, unprotected sex, breeding kink(?), creampie (lemme know if I should add anything!)

Notes: im sorry, but Beomgyu’s long hair era has me in such a chokehold that I think I passed out and wrote this. I’d like to think that in the concert their opener was “Destroya” by mcr (assuming that its their song in this universe) And why yes, I do have a list of other songs they would perform, you can totally go ask me this on my blog!

Your friends always said you had an obscure taste in men— you always laughed in their face in response.

But as you stand behind the Claire’s register, ready to clock back onto a never-ending ten-hour shift of piercing little girl’s ears unprofessionally, you can’t help but be reminded of the thought.

There he is again, your brain tells you, an involuntary reaction as you pause your actions to glance out into the empty mall; just in time to watch the cute boy with snake bite piercings that works at the store across from you rush inside.

Honestly, whose idea was it to put a Spencer’s in front of a Claire’s store? It was a mistake waiting to happen— but you indulged in it nonetheless, the convenient placement allowing you to catch a glimpse of one of the workers that captivated you. You’re not sure of his name, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to talk to him— you’ve never gone into a Spencer's, and plan to keep it that way. Honestly, his whole style couldn’t be more opposite than yours, but there was something about him that made you curious, eager for more.

“Are you staring at that emo boy again?” You jump at the sound of your coworkers voice, startled to find her standing behind you, a knowing look on her face as she shakes her head. “Girl, just go fuck him already.”

“Shut up!” You balk, glancing around the store in a panic to see if there were any customers around— it was empty, considering it was a Thursday evening, “and no, I wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Chaeryeong says, checking her acrylics absentmindedly, leaning against the counter with a sigh, “you’ve been staring at him all week. You should totally go talk to him.”

“You think? I don’t know if he’d be into someone like me though,” you look down at your outfit, the complete opposite of what the man in the store across from you sported— while his outfit consisted of dark, edgy outfits, yours were nothing but feminine and cute.

“Why not? You’re hot,” Chaeryeong’s words bring an uncontrollable swell of confidence to you, and you allow yourself to bask in the compliments that she continues to goad onto you.

“He’s lucky you tone down your fits to suit this place, cause if you didn’t,” she whistles, exaggerating her reaction as you slap her shoulder jokingly, “man, we’d be swamped with customers.”

“You really think I should try to talk to him?” You ask, biting your lip nervously at the thought; what if he was an asshole? What if he thought you were some superficial bimbo? Was he one of those creeps that thought they were better than women? What if he was gay?

“Stop overthinking things, I can see the questions from here,” Chaeryeong bats at the air mockingly, laughing at the petulant look you give her. Her teasing is interrupted by the motion sensor bell going off, and the two of you are quick to put on your customer-service personas as you turn to face the new customers with a happy smile.

“Next chance you get, go up and talk to him. Don’t overthink and it’ll go great, I promise,” Chaeryeong whispers to you, leaving you on your own as the mother calls her over to ask a question about the piercings.

Glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you, you can’t help but let out a sigh of desperation— you really hope she’s right.

⤬⤬⤬

You decide to make your move on a Friday night.

It was one of your few days off, and according to Chaeryeong, the cute boy was working tonight.

You had been quick to throw together a cute outfit as you made your way to the mall— to pay a visit to your friend and your crush.

The store was just as you had expected— low lights, fandom merch, and a fuck ton of adult products. You were caught off guard by the sight of it all, the stark contrast of the store and your outfit leaving you to stick out uncomfortably— not that anyone seemed to care, thankfully. You were quick to find yourself browsing through the jewelry, uninterested in everything else as you found a couple of cute earrings and necklaces to buy.

To your disappointment, you had yet to see the cute boy that you had been crushing on; your heart shattered at the thought of you missing your opportunity to talk to him. Yet, just as you were being checked out by another worker, your luck seemed to turn around.

“Hey, you doing anything tomorrow night?” Your head snapped up in the middle of you taking out your card, surprised to find the cashier asking you this question so suddenly. Behind him, you can see the cute emo boy emerge from the employee room.

“Uhm, why do you ask?” You try to prolong the conversation as you watch the cute boy make his way up to the counter, your heart beating faster at the thought of you finally getting to talk to him.

“There’s this band playing at a nearby venue,” the cashier, Yeonjun, his name tag reads, hands you a flyer, your eyes scanning the words as you take in the information printed onto it, “you should definitely go. I’m in it, actually.”

“Yeonjun, you shouldn’t be promoting that while working.” The new voice has you looking up from your flyer quicker than you can process— and to your delight, the cute emo boy stands behind your cashier with a frown on his face.

Yeonjun narrows his eyes, turning around to look at his coworker. Shaking his head, he clasps the boy on the shoulder as he shakes him around, the boy unfazed as he allows him to do so.

“Shut up, I think she’d love to go,” sending you a smile, he winks, and you can only manage to smile shakily in return, “he’s a part of it too; the bassist.”

You hope your sudden interest isn’t obvious, but you can’t help the way you perk up at Yeonjun’s words, staring back down at the flyer in your hands with a newfound eagerness— hey, if the music was bad, the worst that could happen is you getting the ick and moving on.

“I’ll try my best to go,” you say, trying to play it cool as you smile at them; you briefly glance at the cute boy’s name tag— Beomgyu, it reads— and stuff the flyer in your purse, enjoying the way they (mostly Yeonjun— okay, only Yeonjun) seem to beam at your words.

“Cool, we’ll try to spot you in the crowd,” Yeonjun jokes, handing you your bag filled with jewelry as he not-so-subtly scans your outfit, “from the looks of it, it won’t be too hard.”

Man, was it just you or was it hot in this store? You don’t think you could handle all this attention at once, the sight of Beomgyu giving you a once over making you weak in the knees as you feebly thanked them, promptly scurrying out of the store as you tried to ignore the way you didn’t talk to him— baby steps, you reassure yourself.

You’re practically stumbling into Claire’s as if it were a safe space; and if Chaeryeong was there, then it was. You briefly scan the store before you spot her red hair, running up to her excitedly as you shove the crumpled banner in her face.

“Seriously?” Is all she can muster to say, staring at the flyer blankly before she looks back at you, quirking a brow as if to challenge your decisions, “I told you to go fuck him, not support his fleeting dreams.”

“I know…” you pout, deflating at her disapproving look, “but I don’t think it would be that easy! He seems like a cold guy, like you have to get to know him before he lowers his guard…”

“Are you listening to yourself?” She says, checking herself in the mirror as she begins to restock the phone cases, “I worry about you sometimes.”

“Come on, hear me out!” You whine, ignoring the dirty looks the moms in the store give you, clearly displeased with your revealing outfit, (cons to living in such a conservative town, you suppose) “you can’t deny that he’s cute.”

“Yeah, but the most I’d do is hookup like, once,” she says, glancing around the store to make sure no customers were around to hear her, “you’re trying to play the long game.”

“Am not!” You say, ignoring the way your body flushes hotly at the accusation— okay, you’re pretty down bad for him; so what?

“But uhm, Chae…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence, trailing off softly as you find yourself too nervous to ask. But with one glance back at you, she knows exactly what you’re trying to say— she sighs.

“You want me to go with you, don't you?”

Sending her your most convincing smile, you bat your lashes in hopes to convince her, clinging onto her as you let out a small “pleeeease?” She pauses, narrowing her eyes at your behavior before she scoffs, finally giving in as she goes back to restocking items.

“You’re insufferable.”

⤬⤬⤬

To say that you’re surprised by the attendance would be an understatement.

The place is packed— it was hard enough to get tickets to the venue, and your efforts to buy tickets early were not in vain, despite Chaeryeong's teasing. You’re pulling her along eagerly, fingers laced tightly with hers as you squeeze your way towards the front of the stage; you’re able to sneak through a good amount of people, but aren’t able to get that close to the stage, to your disappointment. There’s no place to sit, much to Chaeryeong’s annoyance, but you’d like to blame her onslaught of complaints on the heels that she chose to wear instead.

“What kind of band even are they,” Chaeryeong mutters, scanning the crowd as she takes in the way the two of you accidentally stand out— the mass of black clashing with your sparkling outfits, “did you even listen to their music beforehand?”

“To like, one song, yeah,” you say, unashamed as you ignore the look a person casts at you, clearly listening in to your conversations, “I dunno, I think they’re just a rock band. I think you’ll like them.”

“Probably not, this isn’t really my taste,” she says, throwing a dirty look to the person that pushes roughly past her to try to get closer to the stage, “you’re just lucky I love you.”

But before you can ridicule Chaeryeong for her statement, you finally see the lights dimming down, left in the dark as the announcer finally calls the band onto the stage— Tomorrow by Together.

The crowd goes wild by the announcement, jumping excitedly and jostling you and your friend around as they all try to record the members and get a good angle. You had no idea they were this popular— hell, if you were them, you’d quit everything to pursue music by now. The crowd is chanting their names eagerly, and you’re left in awe as they all take their positions behind each instrument.

There are two guitarists— you’re able to recognize Yeonjun as one of them. You looked up the rest of the members on your way here, and by process of elimination, the other man who was currently picking up his guitar would be Hueningkai.

The cute guy with dimples sends a heart to the crowd before going to where his keyboard is placed; that’s Soobin, if you remember right. Leaving you with Taehyun, who doesn’t bother to wave to the crowd as he picks up his drumsticks eagerly, shifting comfortably on the seat as he waits patiently for the show to start.

And lastly, Beomgyu enters the stage and beelines to the bass— you’re surprised to find that he’s dyed his hair, the highlights getting hit by the stage lights brilliantly as he adjusts his earpiece, waiting patiently for the leader— Soobin, you think it is— to start the performance.

You can barely hear what they’re saying over the excited cheers around you, and you can feel Chaeryeong gripping onto your arm in fear that you’ll be lost in the crowd. Glancing behind her, you send her an excited smile, unable to contain your laugh as you take in her nervous expression.

“You’re insane!”

“What?” You yell back, leaning in as the crowd begins to cheer louder— probably in response to something they said. You glance back at the stage in curiosity, but turn back to check on your friend as she leans back into your ear, repeating the words as she rolls her eyes at your amused reaction.

“Do you want to leave then?”

“And leave you here alone? No way—!” Her words are cut off by the clicks of drumsticks, and the crowd is quick to push each other around as the music begins to fill the venue, successfully taking your attention off your friend as your head snaps back to the stage.

You can still feel the grip of Chaeryeong’s acrylics as you keep your fingers laced tightly with hers, but you quickly find yourself moving with the crowd as you watch the five on stage perform— and to your surprise, you find yourself enjoying the music a lot more than you anticipated.

It’s just as you expected— rock, emo, or punk-rock if you remember right. But you can’t take your eyes off the way they all seem to be so immersed in the music, moving around just as much as the crowd before them. You’re surprised to find that each one of the members has a mic, and as you watch Beomgyu, you find yourself eager to hear his voice.

He’s mesmerizing, a thin sheen of sweat coating him as his bangs stick to his forehead, a hand coming up to quickly adjust his earpiece before he’s back on the bass, fingers moving so swiftly you think you might just be hypnotized. You can feel your heart beating faster as you watch him step closer to his mic, eyes scanning the crowd absentmindedly as he waits for his part; they stop for a moment, and you swear that he spots you in the crowd.

His brows furrow as he begins to sing, and you swear that you might just feel weak in the knees. His voice is deep and raspy as he sings his part, and you can see Chaeryeong laughing at your reaction in the corner of your eye— man, this venue suddenly seemed a lot more stuffy than it was three seconds ago.

And despite Chaeryeong’s conditions that you wouldn’t stay for the whole show, you do just that— your feet ache, and your makeup has been sweated off, but you don’t regret a single thing as you stumble out of the venue, your hearing muffled and your throat sore from cheering.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you smile, glancing at your friend as you take in her distraught state— her hair was frizzy, and her makeup was also sweated off, but unlike you, she didn’t seem too pleased about it.

“For you maybe,” she grumbles, clutching onto you as she grumbles about how sore her feet are under her breath, “At least you had your eye candy to look at.”

“Yeah, well thanks for coming with me Chae,” you say, hugging her tightly despite her protests, “I’ll get that girl from Auntie Anne's number for you as repayment.”

“No, let me do that myself,” she says, pushing herself off you as she tries to hide her fond smile, “but what I really want right now is a drink. And to rest.”

“Back to my place?” You say, already knowing her answer as you finally find your car, flopping on the seats with rough sighs as you finally allow your feet to rest.

“Yes please.”

Chaeryeong allows you to ramble about your thoughts on the band all the way home.

⤬⤬⤬

The next time you see Beomgyu is on your break.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and the mall is practically empty— considering that school has already started and all the kids are locked up in school. You’re sitting at the corner table of Auntie Anne’s, chewing mindlessly on your pretzel nuggets as you text Chaeryeong and tease her for chickening out on talking to her crush— in the end, she was no better than you. She isn’t working today, which is probably why time is passing so slowly— even your break seems to stretch by slowly.

It isn’t until you hear the sound of a chair scraping along the tiles that you look up from your phone.

Oh god, you’re already getting nervous— because Beomgyu’s a table away from you, staring down at his phone as well with his headphones on. You’re trying hard not to stare, so you resort to panicking and text Chaeryeong about your situation, to which she can only threaten you to talk to him.

Chae <3

Swear to god if you don’t talk to him ill do it for u

And it wont be pretty

What if he doesn’t wanna talk? You text her, anxiously biting at your lip as you watch the message bubble up, her typing as slow as ever as you glance back up at Beomgyu, then back at the clock, calculating just how long you have before you need to leave.

Chae <3

Talk to him about his band duh

Everyone loves talking about themselves

Now shoo

You brightened up at that— of course! Who wouldn’t want to hear about themselves? And with this conversation started, you picked up your cup of pretzels, taking a deep breath before you found the courage to walk up to him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You mentally facepalm at how stupid you sound, but you’ll let it slide as Beomgyu looks up at you, taking a second to pause his music before he gives you a blank look, eyebrows raising slightly as he finally seems tor recognizes you.

“Sure, I guess,” is all he says, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed at his response; or rather, his lack of interest. He gives you a curious look, and you know that he’s waiting for you to explain why the hell you decided to interrupt him during his break— you’re nervous, fidgeting in your seat as you smile sweetly at him. (God, he was intimidating up close.)

“I went to your uh, concert last weekend,” you hold back a smile as you watch the way he perks up at that, a lot more interested in what you have to say as he leans forward.

“Really? Didn’t think you’d be into that type of stuff,” he says, scanning your outfit teasingly, looking at your hot pink hello kitty zip up, to the cute jeans that had hearts on the back pockets; but mostly, your face said it all— that you weren’t one to listen to that kind of music at all.

“Well you’d be surprised,” you say, pouting slightly at his words. You’re fidgeting with your necklace, and you pretend to remain oblivious to the way Beomgyu watches your every movement, eyes stuck to the way the cute pendant falls perfectly on your chest when you let it go, “you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, or whatever they say.”

Beomgyu lets out a laugh at that, and you can’t hide the way that it catches you off guard. It seems genuine, and his eyes are crinkling cutely as he smiles, shaking his head in amusement at your words. It’s almost contagious, and you can’t help the way you crack a small smile as well.

“You got me there,” he says, glancing back at the clock, prompting you to do so as well— you shudder, seeing that you have five minutes left. “Well what’d you think?”

Narrowing your eyes, you take a second before you respond; you can tell he’s waiting for you to gush over him.

“It was okay, I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you pop one of your pretzels in your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick away the sugar left on your lips, and your stomach swirls in excitement as Beomgyu follows your movements, “Yeonjun’s voice was really nice.”

“Really?” Beomgyu taunts you, a knowing smirk growing on his face as he realizes what you’re doing.

“Anything else?”

“Hmmm… oh! The other guitarist was super cute,” you shamelessly say, popping another pretzel in your mouth as you hum in appreciation of its taste, “come to think of it, so was the drummer— oh, so was the guy on the keys.”

“Interesting,” He says mockingly, leaning in as he tilts his head questioningly, tongue prodding at his lip rings as he asks, “what’d you think of the bassist?”

“Hmm? The bassist?” You question, huffing in disappointment as you realized you’ve finished all your pretzels. Rubbing your fingertips to rid the sugary dust, you can’t help yourself as you pop a finger into your mouth, licking off the residue as you finally stand, surprised to find that you need to clock back on. Beomgyu watches you, unable to take his eyes off the way your tongue swirls across your thumb, your necklace hanging teasingly as you reach to zip your jacket back up. Eyes snapping back to yours, you send him a small smile, expression earnest as you say,

“Oh, I wouldn't know— I’m not into that type of stuff.”

⤬⤬⤬

You’re eager to tell Chaeryeong about your interaction the first chance you get.

“Ouuu you’re such a tease! You’ve definitely got him interested now,” she squeals, taking your hands in hers as she jumps in excitement. You’re about to go on your break, heart beating with excitement at the thought of getting to see Beomgyu again— your shifts are usually aligned, so who’s to say your breaks couldn’t be as well?

“You think I might see him today?” You voice your thoughts out loud, glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you— it’s dim, and you can barely make out anything in there, but you swore you saw the familiar head of long shaggy hair pass by the entrance.

“You just might,” your friend says, grinning at you as she encourages you to take your break— you linger at the entrance in hopes that you might spot Beomgyu taking his break as well. Making your way back to Auntie Anne’s (it was the only place where you could get your food quick enough) you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to look like a lost puppy patiently waiting for its owner.

By the time you had ten minutes left to your break, you had lost hope, your eyes glued to your phone and music blasting in your ears as you texted your friends. Laughing at one of their responses to your crush, you rolled your eyes, reaching to grab another pretzel nugget— only to grab at the air stupidly.

You frown as you look up from your phone, only to be met with the sight of Beomgyu sitting comfortably across from you, your cup of pretzels in his hands— how long had he been sitting there?

“How long have you been there?” You’re quick to echo your own mind, reaching out to take back your pretzels from the boy. He shrugs, glancing at the clock, only to leave you without a proper answer.

“Not that long,” is all he gives you, enjoying the way you genuinely want to know. You’re silent, and you watch as he becomes slightly nervous, eyes avoiding yours as he reaches for his pocket— he wants to tell you something.

“I actually wanted to uhm— give you these,” slowly, he slides something across the table, and it takes you a second to realize what it is, “They’re tickets to our next show. You really seemed to enjoy the other one, so I wanted to invite you to this one— with better seats, too.”

Your mouth is hanging at the two VIP tickets, unable to say anything before his words click in your mind.

“Wait— you saw me? At the last show?” You watch as he flushes at your words, but honestly, you’re the one that should be embarrassed— you were kinda hoping he hadn’t noticed your excited self back at his concert.

“Well, it was hard to not notice you,” his excuse is pointless as he looks back up at you, at the cute flustered expression you sport—it somehow manages to bring about a small wave of confidence as he adds, “it was cute to see you enjoy yourself.”

“Oh,” you know you sound lame, but you can’t help it— not with the way his narrowed eyes stare teasingly at you, head cocked to the side as he waits for you to say something— but you don’t, staring down at your pretzels shyly as you listen to him chuckle; oh, where did your confidence from last time go?

“Wait, I have to ask,” you say, the question you thought of a few days ago popping back into your mind, “how come you work here if your band is so popular? You seem to be doing well.”

“Ah, that,” Beomgyu seems to become shy at your question, rubbing at his nape nervously as his eyes flit down onto the table, “well, we aren’t signed under a label yet… so it’s not really a stable income; this job is more of a side hustle just in case.”

“Ah, I see,” you say, wondering just how much he makes from playing in venues— considering that he has to be working here, (which you aren’t complaining about, honestly) it must not be enough.

“Well, I can’t wait for this next show,” you beam at him, taking the two tickets as you glance at the time, sad to see that your thirty minutes are up. “Come pay me a visit sometime, I work right across from you, you know.”

You’re sure it’s unlikely, but as you walk back to your workplace, the stand of cute Squishmallows greeting you as you go to clock back in, you’re unable to contain your bright grin of excitement as you flash Chaeryeong the two VIP tickets. (much to her dismay.)

⤬⤬⤬

Beomgyu is making his way to your store.

“The emo boy is coming over,” Chaeryeong tells you, not giving you much of a warning before she dips to the back— to give you a moment, she tells you shamelessly— leaving you alone and vulnerable to the sight of the cute boy appearing out of nowhere.

It had been almost a week since you had asked him to visit you— ever since then, the two of you would try to time your breaks together, spending the time talking about music and growing closer; you even got to exchange numbers.

But you hadn’t been expecting him to take your last comment seriously, especially not before the day you would be seeing him perform. But here he is, walking up to your store with other shopping bags in his hands, dressed in his usual dark attire. His eyes met yours, and you swore you saw a small amused twitch in his lips.

“Didn’t think you’d actually step a foot in here,” you say, holding back a smile at the way he clashes against the cute store— is this what you looked like in his environment? The thought was enough to give away your amusement, despite the cold front you tried to display.

“Never judge a book by its cover,” he says, echoing your words as he watches you grin shamelessly, his eyes latching onto a piece of jewelry that caught his eye. “Nice smiley, did you get it done here?”

Scoffing, you can’t stop the laugh that escapes at his ridiculous words.

“As if, I wouldn’t trust this place to do a regular ear-piercing,” you say, looking back at your piercing station in dismay.

Beomgyu says nothing, even when you throw him a questioned look.

“How much for the piercings?”

“What— You can’t be serious,” you say, gawking at him in disbelief as you look at his ears, “you have multiple piercings! You should know better than to get it done here!”

Beomgyu shrugs, looking at himself in the mirror as he looks at the said piercings— brushing his hair back, he reaches up to rub at the only empty spot on his lobes.

“Yeah, but I don’t have my upper lobes done yet.”

“Beomgyu,” you whine, unaware of the way his name rolls off your tongue so nicely. He shivers, eyes darkening as he looks back up at you, much more determined to do it now that you’re acting like this. “I don’t want your ears to get fucked up on my behalf—your fans would hate me…”

“Well, the customer is always right,” he grins, knowing just how much the two of you hated that phrase, “and the customer wants this pretty worker to do his upper lobes— with these hello kitty earrings as well.”

Oh, he’s good, you hate how easily you’re going to give in to him; you don’t think you can put up much of a fight anymore, at least not with the way he’s looking at you and complimenting you.

“Go sit in the chair,” you sigh, seemingly defeated as you follow him to the piercing station. In the corner of your eye, you watch Chaeryeong slowly peek through the door, only to see the scene before her and quickly hide back inside.

“Just know that I’m not the one that usually does piercings,” you add, snickering at the way Beomgyu frowns at your confession. “Yeah, I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen to me.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be happy to give you more experience,” he says, and you’re thankful that you’re able to hide behind him because holy fuck, you’re probably a mess right now. Hesitantly, you reach out to his hair— it’s in the way, you think to yourself, unsure if he’ll be bothered if you touch it.

“You can move my hair if you need to,” he says, as though he were able to read your every thought. You jump at his sudden comment, clearing your throat as you nod, before realizing that you’re standing behind him, and that he probably can’t see you right now. So you simply mutter an “okay”, hoping that he can’t see how shaky your hands are as you reach out to move his hair.

Softly, you reach out to his shoulder, brushing back his hair as you inspect his pierced ears— you ignore the way your fingertips accidentally brush against his skin, and you especially try to ignore the way he shudders at your actions. You take your time to mark where you’ll put each piercing, and after double-checking with Beomgyu, you finally get ready to pierce his ears.

Reluctantly, you put on gloves, slowly going through all the sanitation steps as you walk Beomgyu through it and tell him how to care for his piercing— you’re sure he doesn’t need to hear this, honestly— yet it’s still your job to say it.

“Take a deep breath in,” it’s accidental, but you’re using your customer service on him, and you’re sure he notices; that is, if the small quirk of his lips is any giveaway. Slowly, you adjust the piercing gun, taking a deep breath in yourself in hopes that you won’t fuck up; it’s irrational, but you can’t help but be afraid. But you pull through, and as your fingers squeeze together, you watch the needle go through his ear.

“There’s one,” you say reassuringly, pulling away to check your work. All he manages is a small wince, which is a nice contrast to the usual wailing and annoyed moms that you get on the daily. Turning to the other side, you find yourself no longer nervous, pulling back his hair without a second thought as you start sanitizing the new side as well. You barely hesitate before you’re passing the needle through his ear, smiling at the way he only flinches at the feeling.

“Good job!” You say automatically, unable to stop yourself as the customer service mode had taken over you completely. But it doesn’t seem to phase Beomgyu, because he doesn’t comment on it even as you take him to the register to pay.

“I look pretty, don’t I?” He asks, tilting his head in the mirror to look at his new hello kitty piercings. It’s a stark difference to the rest of his jewelry, but you can’t help but agree wholeheartedly with him.

“They’re super cute, I’m kinda jealous,” you say, much to Beomgyu’s surprise.

“Well, maybe your friend could pierce them,” he says, glancing behind you, and at the employee area, “if she finally decides to come out.”

Beomgyu is very annoying— it’s a realization that dawns on you as he sports a smug look, clearly pleased with the way he manages to fluster you with just a few words. But even as he bids you goodbye, reminding you to come to his show tomorrow, you can’t deny the way your heart saddens to watch him go so soon.

Oh, you’re down bad.

⤬⤬⤬

The new venue is much nicer than the last one— it catches you off guard by how nice it is. (It really makes you wonder how much money they each contribute to afford such places)

Chaeryeong is trailing behind you reluctantly, her cute heels from last time swapped out for much more comfortable sneakers. Though she complained to you about going to such a rough event again, you could tell that she was much more pleased when the sight of assigned seats greeted her— not that it wasn’t stated on the ticket, you had muttered to her sarcastically.

You could tell that you were getting strange looks from others— after all, you decided not to conform to their style. It wasn’t really you, so why do it? So instead of trying something new, you decided to stick to your cute pink outfits, dressed in a denim skirt that honestly, wasn’t covering much, the same hello kitty jacket you wore when you first talked to Beomgyu being sported once more as you layer it over a thin tank top, your cute Demonia camel-311’s adding an extra bit of height as you make it all the way down to the VIP section— front and center.

You’re practically buzzing in your seat from excitement as you wait for the concert to begin, eagerly chatting with Chaeryeong who could only do so much to calm you down. After what seems like an eternity of waiting, the audience lights finally dim, and you’re left in anticipation for the band to come out.

It still feels like you’re listening to them for the first time again as you watch them perform, your new closeness to the stage allowing them all to spot you easily— they all end up sending Beomgyu knowing looks at some point, unbeknownst to you.

And as you finally make eye contact with Beomgyu, you grin at him excitedly, waving at him as he nods in recognition, a smile breaking across his face as he sees you. And though you finally look away from him, much more distracted by Soobin as he begins to sing, he can’t help but watch you, mesmerized as you seem to be enjoying yourself wholly. (Though he couldn’t say the same for your friend, who mostly seemed to be there for emotional support as she helped steady you.)

You just seemed so happy. And it made Beomgyu’s heart jump excitedly at the thought of it being because of his band. You were even singing along, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but watch you fondly, shamelessly staring at you even when it was his turn to sing and your gaze turned back to him. He met your eyes eagerly, and you almost felt as though the rest of the crowd disappeared as he sang, raspy voice soothing to your ears as you tried to push away the incessant fluttering of your heart.

You stared at him even when it was no longer his part, watching in awe as he played the bass like it was second nature. Meeting his eyes once more, you couldn’t help the way your eyes flit to his ears, the flash of the jewelry bringing your attention to the cute hello kitty studs he wore; you pointed at your ears eagerly, and he seems to realize what you’re referring to as he sweeps his hair back, allowing you to take in the piercings properly; they’re healing surprisingly well.

The concert seems to pass by much quicker than you’d like— and you’re left with nothing but the muffled feeling in your ears and the dwindling adrenaline as you reluctantly make your way back to the entrance. You almost make it out, but you’re stopped last minute as a security guard approaches the two of you, asking you for to confirm your identities to him.

“Beomgyu would like to see you,” he says, pointing at you as he reads your ID. You’re surprised, blinking owlishly as you take in his words, unsure if he’s messing with you as you say,

“… Me?”

“Yes, if you could please follow me,” the security guard waits for you to come after him, but he seems to notice the way you hesitate and turn back to your friend with uncertainty. “She can wait in the VIP lobby if she’d like, but I was told to bring you specifically backstage.”

It seems like something clicks for Chaeryeong as she lets out a small “ahhh,” in understanding, pushing you towards the security guard as you turn to her with wide eyes, surprised at her actions.

“Go ahead! The VIP lounge has drinks,” she encourages you, rolling her eyes with every protest and “are you sure?” that leaves your mouth. “Yes I’m sure! Now go!”

Reluctantly, you leave your friend behind in the VIP lounge, watching her get comfortable at the bar as she asks the bartender for a drink. The backstage area is a lot quieter than you’d thought it would be— it’s practically silent the moment you enter the area, the boys all probably tired and ready to go home after such a performance. But you’re in awe nonetheless, looking from door to door as the security guard finally guides you to the last one— Beomgyu’s dressing room, it seems.

Knocking on it tentatively, you anxiously wait for Beomgyu to open up as the guard stands behind you; you really hope he wasn't messing with you.

“Hmm? Who is it?” You can hear the grogginess in Beomgyu’s voice as the door barely opens, his head slowly peeking out before it's met with the sight of your sheepish smile.

“Ah, you can come in,” he gestures to you, suddenly much more awake as he glances back to the security guard, “you’re good to go, thank you.”

You’re restless as the door is shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the small dressing room as you patiently wait for Beomgyu to tell you why he brought you here.

“___,” you look at him, surprised to find your name slipping from his lips so easily. He’s smiling, suddenly much more energized as he tells you, “we just signed with a record label. We’re set.”

You’re elated, his joy contagious as you take a second to process his words— he laughs, and you can’t help but share his laugh as you run to him, enveloping him into a tight hug that he gladly accepts, the smoky scent of his cologne lingering despite his change of clothes. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but it just feels right as you mutter a “congratulations” into the fabric of his shirt, nuzzling into his neck with a smile stuck on your face.

Pulling away from him, you’re reluctant to leave this small space that the two of you created; you can tell he feels the same, hands lingering at your forearms as he keeps you close, eyes fond as he watches the way your eyes sparkle under the lights of the room.

“Does this mean you’re quitting your job at the mall?” You joke, cracking a smile that Beomgyu sees past— you don’t think you’re ready to watch him leave just yet.

“Yes,” he says, honest words leaving him as he tugs you in closer, unable to look away from your glossy lips as he finds himself leaning in closer, his voice much quieter as he says, “but I’ll still visit now and then.”

It’s not the perfectly romantic and corny line you were expecting, but it’s enough to prompt you to crash your lips with his, the weeks of tension and feelings that had built up between the two of you finally crashing down as you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of him. He’s quick to kiss you back, the feeling rough and new as his snake bite piercings press against your flesh, a small sigh escaping you as you feel him nip at your lips.

His arms have encased your waist and pulled you in tight, your body pressed flush against his and your hands splayed across his chest as he practically forces you to lean against him, his fingertips itching to explore your body further.

“Fuck, I couldn’t stand seeing you out there in your cute little skirt,” he groans, slotting a thigh between yours as he runs his fingers along the hem of your skirt, “made me scared someone else would try to make a move on you.”

“No, wore this just for you,” you confess, breathless and whiny as you grind on his thigh, the thin fabric of your panties doing nothing to hide just how aroused you were. He laughs at that, the sound airy and mocking as he guides your hips on his thigh, pushing you down on it more as he takes in the sounds that tumble messily from your lips.

Placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you yelp at the way he angles your hips, clenching his thigh and bouncing it under you as your sensitive clit rubs and bumps against him messily. You’re practically delirious as you reach a hand down to move your panties aside, the stimulation not enough for you as you finally allow your bare cunt to come in contact with him.

“I can’t believe this,” he groans, watching the way a wet spot slowly begins to form over the place you continue to grind against, “my stupid girl, all fucked up over my thigh? Poor baby won’t be able to take my cock, then.”

“No, I can take it,” you protest, your mind reeling from the pleasure that Beomgyu gives you— you can feel your stomach tightening with every clench of his thigh, the muscle pressing against you nicely, “Please, I can take it, please…”

“You really think you can?” He asks, leaning to trail kisses down the column of your neck, “why don’t you come on my thigh, then we’ll see if you really can.”

You’re nodding desperately for his approval, shirt clenched tightly in your fists as you work yourself up to your high, the feeling of his muscles pressing against you bringing you closer much quicker. With a particularly harsh bounce of his thigh, your mouth falls open, Beomgyu’s grip on your hips ruthless as he forces you down on him, guiding you through it as slowly come down from the blissful feeling.

“Good girl, following my orders like that,” he mumbles, enjoying the way your shaking hands grip onto him helplessly. Gently, he guides you to the couch, allowing you to fall on it as he slowly begins to undress you, your grabby hands pulling at his shirt until he’s throwing it over his head.

“Oh god—" he holds back a groan as he takes off your bra, suddenly finding it much harder to contain himself at the cute sight, his hands immediately finding their place on your breasts as he gulps.

“Baby, I had no idea you pierced these,” he says, pretty fingers playing with the piercings on your nipples as you whine at the stimulation. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? They’re so pretty…”

Beomgyu is mesmerized as you lay before him, a needy and panting mess as you let him play with your tits crudely, allowing him to pinch and roll the pierced nipples until they’re hardened. Slowly, he leans down to wrap his mouth around one of them, tongue darting out to lick at them as you gasp, back arching as you realize—

“Fuck, is your tongue pierced?” You gasp, watching the way Beomgyu sits up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Looks like we’re all full of surprises here,” he says, trailing kisses down your body before he finally stops at your navel, glancing back up as he says, “I’ve always heard it feels better when you get eaten out by someone with a piercing— wanna test it out?”

You’re ready to say every curse word in existence as Beomgyu dives down without a second thought, warm mouth wrapping around you and the feeling of his tongue— paired by his piercing— sends you into an overstimulated mess, still having yet to recover as you thread your hands into his hair, weakly attempting to pull him away from you before he’s pinning your hips down, his tongue insistent as he flicks it across your clit ruthlessly.

“Beomgyu…” you whine out, body too sensitive to stay still, yet still begging for more as you thread your fingers tighter into his scalp, tugging harshly— the sting brings out a crude groan from him.

Slowly, you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, an airy chuckle leaving him as he takes in the way you’re dripping wet for him. Pulling away, he watches as two of his fingers slide in easily, opening up inside you as he slowly begins to stretch them out inside you, biting at his lip at the way you clench around him.

Leaning back down, he lays his tongue flat on your clit, enjoying the way you shake under him as he sets a brutally slow pace for you.

“Enjoying yourself?” He taunts, unable to stop himself as his free hand reaches up to play with your nipples, still amazed at the cute piercings that had been hiding from him all along. You’re nodding along, though he’s not entirely sure you processed what he just asked from the way you’re so lost in the pleasure— which Beomgyu is more than happy to deliver more of. His tongue flicking across your clit paired with the quickened pace of his fingers is what sets you off, the stimulation too much for you the moment Beomgyu begins to tug at your nipple piercings teasingly.

“Beomgyu please,” you plead, using your fingers that were threaded in his hair to pull him up, your lips briefly meeting his as you take in the taste of yourself— his tongue darts into your mouth as you allow him to coat your tongue with your own release, the teasing bites that he leaves you with as he pulls away making you whine stupidly.

“So fucking pretty,” he mutters under his breath, staring down at your fucked out form as he finally releases himself from his restraints, his cock painfully hard and leaking as he kneels over you, “Wanna make you all mine. Keep you to myself.”

His words are an alluring promise as he slowly pushes into you, leaving kisses and bites all along your collarbones as you do the same to him. You sigh as he bottoms out, hips meeting yours as he takes your hand to place it on your abdomen.

“Do you feel that?” He asks, pressing his hand on top of yours as he slowly pulls out, a broken moan leaving you as you realize that fuck, you can. With every slow thrust you can feel every vein, his hand that remains on top of yours adding onto the pleasure as you feel him through your stomach as well.

“God, you make it so hard for me to hold myself back,” he groans, closing his eyes as you clench tightly around him, the warm feeling of your walls wrapping around him pushes him to his limits, the sounds that leave your lips only adding on to the mess.

“Don’t,” you breathe out, eyes dazed as they meet Beomgyu’s, “Don’t hold back— please.”

With one final look in your eyes, Beomgyu shakes his head, leaning down to plant a kiss to your lips before he’s taking your leg, bringing it up to press against your chest as it allows him to fuck you in a deeper angle. His pace is ruthless as he gives in to your request, the combination of his length and the stretch of his cock leaving your mind empty in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, be quiet baby,” he grits out, slapping a hand over your mouth in panic as you let out a particularly loud moan, the reminder of his other bandmates being nearby bringing about a rush of adrenaline— he didn’t want anyone else to hear the sounds you made.

Your muffled whimpers and whines still managed to leak through Beomgyu’s hand, your body getting pressed down into the couch with the force that Beomgyu fucks you with. Your hands scrambled to find someplace to steady yourself on, quickly finding purchase on Beomgyu’s shoulders, your nails raking down his back accidentally as his cock pressed against a sensitive spot— you were only egged on by the surprised moan he let out by that.

“God, you feel so…” he hisses as your nails dig into his skin, the stinging feeling making him pry your hands away from him as he pins them down, your fingers lacing with his immediately as he uses this to fuck into you harder. His lips crash against yours the moment you begin to get too loud again, and you accept the distraction gratefully as you relish in the feeling of his piercings against your skin.

This new angle allowed for his hips to crash against your clit, the rough hits making you closer to your end as you clenched tightly around him, the feeling enough of a warning for Beomgyu as he continued to fuck you ruthlessly. Your nails dig into his hands as he begins to hit your sensitive spot repeatedly, your high crashing down on you unexpectedly as you clamp down on Beomgyu’s cock.

He helps you ride through it, slowing his pace into nothing but a grind as he presses his hips against yours, placing relentless kisses on your lips as soft praise leaves him, the words not quite reaching you as you come down from your high.

“Gyu,” you whimper, and Beomgyu thinks he might just come then and there, “keep going.”

“More?” He asks, incredulous at your request, “fuck, you still want more?”

Nodding, you squeeze his hands as you innocently say, “want you to finish inside me.”

God, you have no idea what you do to him. Your words hit him like a freight train as he feels his cock twitch inside you, shaking his head in disbelief at your request— how could you say something like that so sweetly? It’s like you were doing it on purpose.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up until you can only think of me,” he says, his words drawing out a whimper from you as he begins to move once more, no longer hesitant as he watches the way your face contorts from the pleasure and over stimulation. Your words are all he can think of as he watches you try your best to be quiet, biting at your lips and failing as he presses his cock deep inside you, every drag and thrust he delivers making your eyes roll back in bliss.

You might even be drooling at this point— but you don’t really care, at least not with the way Beomgyu is fucking you so nicely. You can feel his pace stutter as he lets out soft moans, hands untangling from yours as he sits up, placing his hands on your hips and angling them up as he uses you to his liking, the new angle making you slap your hands over your mouth— you’re sure something humiliating would have left your mouth if you hadn’t done so.

His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips as his brows furrow, concentrated on chasing pleasure as his eyes flit back to you— to your watery eyes, your hands clasped over your mouth panic despite the sounds that leak through, and your breasts that bounce back and forth with each thrust.

He can tell that a new orgasm is beginning to build in you, and he’s determined to make the coil snap as he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit, leaning over to whisper nothing but the filthiest things imaginable, a grin overtaking his face as he feels the way you’re quick to catch up to him, your trembling figure telling him all he needs to know.

“Come on darling, don’t you want me to fill you up? You’d look so pretty with my cum dripping between your thighs, I’ll make sure everyone will know you’re mine. Go ahead, come on my cock.” He’s rambling at this point, but it’s enough to set you off as you cum on him once more, the pathetic whine of his name enough to set him off as he follows close behind you, his thrusts sloppy and rough before he stills, filling you to the brim as your hands find themselves running down his back once more, the sting of pain mixing into his pleasure as his head drops onto your neck, the heavy feeling of his breaths against your neck the only thing that grounds you from your high.

He’s careful as he maneuvers the two of you to lay down, having yet to pull out of you as the slow trickle of his cum escaping from you makes you shiver. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he pulls you in for another slow kiss, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his lips, the two of you turning into a giddy mess in each other’s arms.

“I was waiting for the day I could kiss you like this,” he mumbles against your lips, the confession making you push against his chest in embarrassment, allowing him to pull you back in with a laugh. The two of you stay like that for a moment longer, and you actually think you could fall asleep like this—

“Oh my god, Chaeryeong!”

At the call of your friend’s name, Beomgyu groans, throwing an arm over his eyes as he asks, “she’s still here?”

“Yes!” You can tell that Beomgyu doesn’t understand why you’re panicking, but you feel absolutely terrible that you made her wait outside in the lobby while you— you…

“Gyu, I gotta go,” you whine, trying to pry yourself from his grip as you look around his dressing room, spotting a rag and a spray bottle filled with water that you could use to clean yourself up. “I have the day off tomorrow, just come over then.”

“Can I? You promise?” Is all he says, unable to let you go as you try to rush to clean up. Turning back to him, you adjust your shirt, laughing at the way he seems to be eager for your response.

“Promise,” you say, leaning down to give him a final goodbye kiss; it’s enticing when he tries to lure you in with more, but you know better as you collect your things, bidding him a final goodbye as you exit his room, allowing yourself to be escorted by security guards as you do the walk of shame. (Shame was actually not enough to describe what you felt— what you felt was much deeper, the realization that everyone probably heard you leaving you unable to look up from the floor.)

Yet even as you’re reuniting with Chaeryeong with a sheepish smile, you can’t help but feel the way your heart flutters at the feeling of your phone being flooded with messages.

Gyu:

Send me ur address pls

Would it be weird if I just come over rn

Say no so I can come over

You shook your head as you read through the messages, not noticing the way Chaeryeong peeked over teasingly.

“See, I told you— you were playing the long game.”

Yet this time, you couldn’t really deny her— because maybe you really were all along.

⤬⤬⤬

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vexwerewolf · 18 days

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Felicitations, comrade! We had our session 0 for the IGF campaign im running, and one of my players wants to be a moonlighter pirate "infiltrating" Hell's Gate militia. He was initially thinking of being affiliated with the Hell Hounds, which for obvious reasons would present some challenges. Do you have any advice for making this happen, what with the very first mission putting him up against his true boss? I dont know that he'd have enough time to have truly built up camraderie with the rest of the SRT to truly make his character have conflicted loyalties.

I mean, he'd have to have been with the militia a while to build up enough trust to be seriously considered for the SRT.

But moreover, let me tell you what being a Hell Hound is like.

CW: psychological and physical abuse

So one thing I want to make it clear that the Hell Hounds are basically an incel cult without the weird gender-sexual overtones. I imagine there ARE women and enbies who join it but in essence Andros Capella is a creepy weirdo who preys on disaffected, primarily male youth with no prospects and indoctrinates them into his worldview of nihilistic violence.

Andros doesn't really have a philosophy, or at least not one that he could describe in words (and even if he could, he wouldn't), but it could be summed up as "the weak exist solely to create things for the strong to take." You are worthy of having things if you are strong enough to take them, but only so long as you're strong enough to keep them.

The closest political ideology I could ascribe to him would be "stateless fascism." Andros is certainly sadistic, devoid of empathy and believes himself to be supreme, but he's too intellectually lazy to bother engaging in justifying why he's supreme. He makes the most basic of naturalistic arguments (i.e. "this is just the way the world works") but feels it's beneath him to actually justify or provide evidence for his claims.

He hates the minutiae of day-to-day life, and derives no joy from anything that doesn't involve someone else's discomfort or pain. He will steal your food for the sheer thrill of having taken something that you wanted to eat, but he won't enjoy eating it because he despises the physical sensations of chewing and swallowing.

And if you are a Hell Hound who, god forbid, enjoys something, he will bully the shit out of you. He will verbally and physically abuse you until you learn to hate the thing you liked just to make the pain stop.

Lemme tell you what the average night on Fort Cerberus looks like when you're not on a raid: you and a couple hundred other sick fucks lurk around the corridors drinking and gambling but you sure as hell better not actually look like you're having fun because you're all desperately trying to avoid becoming the bossman's next chew toy.

Some poor fuck catches Andros' eye. You're not sure what for, but from the sounds of things he might've been counting his poker winnings too loud. He gets a hand on his shoulder from the big man, who tells him that he's being too selfish - gotta learn to share a bit more, yeah? Now, way Andros sees it, guy's got ten fingernails that he's keeping all to himself, so here's a set of pliers - redistribute.

You jeer along with the rest of the room, loud enough to drown out his screams, because you're so very, very relieved that it isn't you. But you fuck up. You look a little bit too enthusiastic, perhaps, or maybe it's the opposite, maybe you weren't forcing it enough. Either way, the bossman's eyes land on you and your blood turns to ice in your veins.

"You," he says. "C'mere."

The room is dead silent all of a sudden, quiet enough that the pitiful whimpering of the first guy, (currently on his second thumbnail) is the only sound you can hear. You walk over, as a prisoner does to the place of execution.

He takes your hands, inspecting your fingernails, and then your hands, then your arms. "No ink yet? You not pulling your weight? Am I payin' to feed a fuckin' leech?"

You say you're not a leech.

"Those pricks over at the Gate are gettin' too clever. Learning too quick. Gettin' the jump on us too many times. I want someone over there learnin' what they know. You 'avin' no ink makes you a good choice. They'd sniff out any of these boys in a second, they would, but not you. You look soft. Don't he look soft, boys?"

The room jeers at you just as you jeered at the first guy (he's on his ninth nail, now, and his throat is so hoarse he can't make sounds anymore). You try your best to remain composed.

"Normally soft'd be fuckin' worthless. But soft'll let you blend right in with the Gaters."

So, to avoid whatever horrific torture he's currently ideating, you agree. The next time they go out on a raid, they pick a ship full of people who don't know each other and slip you in with the passengers when nobody's looking. You don't go to Hell's Gate directly - you do a couple of hops through the Thousand Habs, just to throw off suspicion.

You sue for residency on the station as a refugee from a failed habitat. They give you your own cabin, and they make sure you're fed and clothed. You smirk to yourself - they really are as soft as Andros said they'd be; they have food and water and clothes and they're just giving them away!

You don't have all that many marketable skills, so after a few rotations scrubbing air filters, you apply to take the militia aptitude test. You try to play it down so they don't get suspicious, but if nothing else you're a damn good pilot, so you get fast-tracked. These fucking idiots just give you a mech! God, it's gonna be so easy to tear them apart from the inside.

They put you in a team. You train together, building up hours in the simulators. Then something weird happens. They... trust you? They want to... spend time with you, outside the simulators. They want to drink with you, play games with you, hear about your life. Well, is it more suspicious if you say no? You have to maintain your cover.

You don't always fit in well. Sometimes you crack jokes that are... a little unpleasant, a little off, a little worrying, and you learn to bite those down because it's bad for your cover. You also have this odd air about you, like you're constantly on guard, like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop (like somebody's gonna make you rip your fingernails out if you're too happy). People figure you must've gone through some trauma and are kind stupid enough not to pry.

You feed information about the militia back to Andros - carefully, so as not to blow your cover. Some members of your team get hurt - nobody dies, but they get hurt. You feel... bad. Why do you feel bad? They're soft, they're weak, they don't mean anything. They're not your real friends. You don't have any friends.

Months pass. Jerry says he wants to tap your team for a long-standing project he's working on. This is your chance. Sabotaging this will prove to Andros that you're strong, that you're not weak, that you're not a leech, that you can pull your weight.

Sure, a bunch of your team will have to die. The only people who've ever put their trust in you, the only people who've ever believed in you. But that's fine, right? They don't mean anything, they're not real people, right? They're idiots for trusting you, right? They deserve it, right?

Right?

... right?

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #in golden flame #cw: abuse #cw: injury #cw: indoctrination #cw: violence #cw: cults

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hwasoup · 2 months

Text

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist !!

art credit: Marbipa

OMG GUYS IM SOSOSO SORRY FOR SUCH A DELAY, COLLEGE REALLY DEVOURED ME IN THE MOMENT. AND TUMBLR REMOVED THE OPTION TO MAKE THE TEXT YELLOW...SO THE COLOR WILL NOW BE ORANGE. However, this is a double update week bc I owe you guys bc of your amazing patience with me!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter

like always don't hesitate to lmk if you would like to be tagged:')

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warnings: talking objects, borderline assault, Canis Lupus

word count: 3.3k

Chapter 4: Dinner is served

However, in the village’s small tavern….

“UGH, WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS ?!”

“Uhh Ben, chill out here you’re drunk.” Eddie says, while trying to take away his beer. Ben looks at Eddie extremely furious and annoyed “So? don’t you see that- that woman has messed with the wrong MAN ?!!” Eddie winces at his words a little and says “erm…. sure…let's say that she did.” Ben, who was moping in front of the tavern’s fireplace, takes another swig of his beer. “Dismissed, publicly humiliated, How DARE she! Nobody says NO to ME!” he says in a growl. Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes a bit and cracks his knuckles. “Well, you’re not a bad person... And besides forget her, you have tons of admirers in this tavern anyways” he says with a remark. Ben groans “Ugh, EDDIE LISTEN... My rustic cabin, my latest kill roasting itself on the fire, the children playing with the dogs ...and a pretty wife rubbing my feet…And what does Y/N say?? she says NO” he says throwing his beer into the fire.

The flame bursts a bit startling Eddie, but he proceeds to maintain his composure. “Listen to me ben…listen to the tavern…they’re all here because they’re admirers of you...” One man yells “NOBODY BITES LIKE BEN OR CAN WIN AT CHESS LIKE HIM”

Another man yells “HE CAN EASILY WIN SPIT CHALLENGES” The tavern eventually comes together as they spew out all of their favorite qualities of ben. Especially the women, all of them gushed over his blonde hair, his brawn, his charm, and even his chest hair. (for some reason) Ben’s mood lifts and he smiles as he cheers along with the tavern of the glorification of his achievements and assets. People get together and eventually dance and drink as a small trio plays some music to add more to the cheerful atmosphere. Ben sits beside some ladies and brags about the number of eggs he eats in the morning. “TEN CHEERS FOR BEN RILEY !!” the tavern yells After a while of just fooling around, with a brightened mood Ben sits back in his lavish chair and looks at Eddie “that was very fun, thank you… but how come not a single woman has approached you?” Eddie chuckles and simply scratches his hair “well…I’ve been told I'm either too bored or too clingy .... I have no idea why though...” Ben just stares at him and clears his throat, looking back at the crackling fire.

Suddenly, the joy got sucked out of the room when Mauricio came waddling in tattered clothes, unruly hair, and barefoot. “SOMEONE, PORFAVOR QUE ME AYUDEN!!” The people in the tavern whispered to each other as they stared at him. Mauricio runs towards Ben and other customers in the tavern as he yells “SHE’S LOCKED IN A DUNGEON, EL LO TIENE CAPTIVA !!”

A man asked, “but who?” Mauricio looks at this man with his eyes filled with fear “...who?... WHO?? MY DAUGHTER Y/N< WE HAVE TO GO SAVE HER NOW !!” Ben raises an eyebrow and looks at Eddie as he tries to stifle a laugh, not believing his words. He gets up and approaches Mauricio and pats his back “calm down Mauricio, now tell me… who is it that has Y/N locked in a dungeon?”

“UN MONSTRUO! A BEAST !!”

Crickets could be heard in the entire tavern as it went silent…

The entire tavern bursted into laughter at the idiocy of his words.

“Lemme guess! He’s a huuuggee BEAST.”

“HE’s got an UGLY MOUTH WITH TEETH” Mauricio in his fears nods his head vigorously as he confirms each person’s questions about his so-called ‘beast’. He looks around and trips and falls on the wooden floor “Will you help me?” he asks with tears in his eyes. Ben rubs his chin as he rolls his eyes as he decides to say something sympathetic to him “alright, alright, Mauricio relax, we’ll help” Poor Mauricio looked up with hope in his eyes as he thanked Ben for his courage to step up and help him. It didn’t last too long since he shortly got thrown out of the tavern by the owner due to his “madness.”

Little did he know that Ben was already devising a plan with Mauricio’s plea for help…that may or may not have to do with marrying his daughter.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the other hand in the Castle..

After what seemed to be a few hours after that nasty confrontation with Miguel, A starving Y/N emerges from her room. She looks around as to see if she would see Miguel, but she ultimately decides that he has very much retired to his room. Wherever it may be. As she walked down the halls, she didn't notice the sound of giggling coming from behind a curtain.

“Miles nooo, stay away”

“Ok but I just wanna hug, Gwen” “Miles, the last time you hugged me, you literally burned my feathers” she says with a sigh. Miles sighs and just pouts “It’s not my fault you got turned into a feather duster, ok?” Gwen rolls her eyes and chuckles at his antics. Miles then looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps and his flame burst a bit more “Hey look !!” he says pointing at Y/N “she emerged !!” He left Gwen in a hurry as he quickly hopped his way to Y/N as he followed her to the kitchen. In the kitchen, Peter was putting Mayday to sleep in the cupboard. Once she fell asleep, Peter closed the cupboard only to spot the cook, who was angrily huffing his stove top with fire as he whined over his cooking going to waste. Peter sighed “shh, come on I just put the little one to sleep, it’s been a long day.�� Lyla however hops in and sighs “Honestly, I think she was just being headstrong, I mean...Miguel did say PLEASE” Peter sighs and says, “Really Lyla? you know that Miguel has a temper…and if he doesn’t control it, things won’t work out for him.”

They were interrupted when Y/N walked in. “Hey, you showed up, a little late but that counts!” Peter says. Lyla turns around and greets her “Hello, I don’t think we properly introduced ourselves, I'm Lyla, you already know Peter of course, and in the back over there trying to get everyone in check is Jess and-” Miles butted in the conversation as he smiled at Y/N “and I’m Miles, nice to meet you senorita” he says wiggling his eyebrows. Jess waddled over smiled at Y/N “If you need anything to make your stay more comfortable just tell us honey” “Well ....I am hungry,” Y/N says with a sheepish smile. Peter grins and starts directing the kitchen to quickly cook something up for her. Lyla escorts her to the dining room, while Jess sighs “ok, but we have to be as quiet as possible, or else Miguel will flip. Miles just hops around happily as he says “aw come on, we gotta get Pav here! Actually, Imma go get him” he says as he hops off out the kitchen.

A little while later, Miles came back with a large piano, “come on Pav, you haven’t played for someone in forever!” Pav smiles as he warms up quickly playing his keys “yep i’m all good” Jess walks in and spots him “Please…play quietly” Pav looks at Jess with the biggest stank face he has gave her “oh no yea..sure..softly… are there ANY more tasteless remarks to my artistry?” Jess says no and walks off back into the kitchen. In the dining room, Y/N was quietly sitting until she saw Miles come up to the table with a smile. He signals to Gwen who’s hovering over the window with a mirror to create a form of stage lights. Pavitir is playing his tunes, and Miles looks at her and smiles happily “It is our pride and pleasure that we all welcome you here tonight. Stay seated in your chair as you relax, enjoy what you see, as the dining room proudly presents…. your dinner!” Y/N smiles in amazement at all of the food that has been placed on the table, she had never seen so many foods from different regions in such a long time. If she had to be honest, it was better than the cooking she had seen from the local restaurant back at the village. She was handed a napkin by Miles, and she took it and placed it onto her lap to catch any food that would hypothetically stain her dress and fall to the floor. Each dish was kind enough to explain to her what each dish was. She had some gray stuff, Beef ragout, Chilaquiles, Asopao de Pollo, Arepas, Mofongo, Congri, Tequenos, Tostones, Pupusas, Camarones al ajillo, Quesadillas, and even Enchiladas. She had never tasted such a culinary cabaret in her life before. As Y/N ate, she chatted with Miles for a bit as he told her how it has been 10 years since they had a guest like her. She chatted with Gwen a bit and found out she’s the feather duster that snuck into her suite while she was busy crying to collect the dust that was piling up. She learned that Lyla is actually a relative of Miguel and learned about all the staff as well. Y/N found herself creating a friendly bond amongst the staff as she happily ate to her heart’s delight. Peter came in after a while on his serving cart with some tea for her to drink “one lump or two?” he asked. Y/N giggled “Just one please” She takes a cup and sips it as she sighed in content as the soothing flavor of the tea.

After Y/N ate her fill she clapped in awe “this was wonderful, please give my compliments to the chef!” Jess smiled at her from a distance and looked at her minute and hour hand. “Oh dear, look at the time…it seems to me we should all get some sleep” She approaches Y/N and tries to escort her back. “Oh, but Jess…after such a meal, I can’t just go to sleep, besides it is my first time in such an enchanted castle...” Jess nervously laughed and looked around trying to divert her attention, “oh why who would say such a thing..I mean-” Lyla hopped in and heard what they said “Yyyyyeeeaaa…. totally not enchantteeeddd” she says to Y/N. Jess turns around to look at l

Lyla and muttered “it better not have been you” Lyla looked at her in shock at her accusations and was definitely going to retaliate until Y/N diffused the situation. “Oh guys please…I figured it out myself...” she says with a smile. She then gets up from the chair and approaches the door “I hope you both don’t mind If I look around, if that’s okay” Lyla perked up and hopped to her “wanna tour girlie ?” “AH AH AH…. we can’t let her... She might you know... go someplace else?” Jess says sternly. Y/N giggles as she looks down at Jess’s frown “aww come on, I bet you know a lot about the castle…how about if you tell me all about it?” Jess sighs as she gives in “alright then...” —----------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later…

Jess was happily giving her knowledge of the castle, adding her expertise and explaining how old the castle truly was. She gave some stories on how she lived in the castle, as well as her years of service. Y/N looked around in awe as she marveled at each painting and each intricate design of the castle. It might have looked scary at first, but now that she’s taking a closer look. The castle itself is truly beautiful. They passed by a hall of empty armor, each head turning around to take a peek at Y/N, finding her curiosity quite charming. Jess heard the squeaks of the rusty armor and turned around and with a silent hiss “Turn Around”

She looked back to her direction and noticed that Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Jess wanders around until she spots her trying to go up the west wing. “Lyla damnit go stop her !” Lyla notices and hops as quickly as she could to stop Y/N from going any further, Jess running along behind her. The two eventually reach Y/N and stand in front of her making halt gestures. “What’s up there?” she asked. Sheepish smiles were both seen on both women’s faces as they try to make up some excuses.

“Oh nothing there just storage, Rubbish, Dusty, Boring, absolutely nothing in the west wing” Lyla says Y/N chuckles as she was able to trick them and says in a coy voice “Oh so THAT'S, the west wing” Jess groans in frustration and looks at Lyla “nice going idiot...” Y/N keeps on staring up the stairs as she wonders what Miguel is truly hiding in the west wing. The two women then started blabbering as they started to try and convince her to go and see the library. She nods and slowly follows them until she notices that they sped so quickly that they were almost down the hall. She took this opportunity and quickly tiptoed up the stairs and into the West Wing.

The more she went up the stairs, the more she noticed how the hallway had cracks, claw marks, shattered mirror pieces, and broken gargoyle statues. Y/N looked around a little concerned and debated if she should stop. However, her curiosity got the best of her nature, and she kept on going. She eventually made it to the top and walked down a hall to two double doors. “This must be Miguel’s room” she whispered to herself. Y/N looks back behind her just in case Jess followed her but didn’t see anyone. With a deep breath she slowly opened the doors and walked in to see an almost dilapidated room. Everything was broken or at least about to shatter. “Probably from his anger issues” she says softly to herself. After walking inside and looking around she spots a portrait, she slowly approaches it to see claw marks on it. She couldn’t make out who the man painted in the portrait is, but she could tell that he was handsome, but what struck her the most was his piercing crimson eyes.

She then turned around to notice the window completely open and a table with a mirror and a beautiful glowing rose. Amazed at its beauty she took the glass encasing off of the rose and watched how it sparkled, it was mesmerizing. Y/N then reaches a hand to touch the rose but stops as she feels a shadow loom over her. She looked up and gasped in shock to see Miguel. He angrily huffed at her and snarled as he quickly made his way to reach for the rose’s glass encasing and protectively covered it. Miguel then slowly looked at Y/N with such rage in his eyes and blocks her from the rose “Porque Viniste” Y/N slowly stepped back as she raised her arms to protect herself from harm without realizing. “I’m..I’m Sorry” she says softly. Miguel growled and rolled his eyes “Sorry? I warned you to NEVER COME HERE” Y/N flinched and moved back even more “I didn’t mean any harm; I Apologize if I offended you” Miguel enraged clenched his paw into a fist “DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE?” He takes his anger on a broken chair and punches it. “I- No, Please, stop” she said worriedly.

“LARGATE DE AQUI”

Y/N didn’t hesitate and ran out as quickly as she could. Miguel raged and punched anything in his sight that was breakable in his room. His eyes widened as he realized he scared her off again. His heart ached at his own actions, and he lowered his head in shame feeling just awful about himself and worried for her...

Y/N on the other hand has made a run for it and somehow found her coat as she was running down the stairs. Miles was playing chess with Pav and spotted Y/N running “HEY, Y/N!! Where are you going ?!” Y/N looked back at them and fearfully said “Promise or not, I can’t stay here for another minute!” She left the castle and, in a hurry, looked around for the stables and found her dear old Felipe, despite the heavy blizzard that was occurring outside she managed to saddle him up and rode him away and out of the castle grounds into the black forest.

After a while of horseback, she realized that she had no idea where to go, everything was covered in snow. Felipe whinnied and panicked as he fidgeted left and right where to go. Y/N tried to calm the horse down but gasped in terror when realizing there was a pack of hungry and vicious wolves ready to hunt them for their next meal. Felipe regained his control and immediately turned back to the castle’s direction to run away from the wolves. Y/N grasped tightly onto the reins and tried maneuvering Felipe through the woods. The wolves nipped at Felipe’s legs, and he would only run faster. Y/N was hyper focused in getting away that she didn’t completely register the frozen lake in front of her. The two fell in with a splash in the icy water, Y/N kept on holding onto the reins and Felipe quickly swam to the other side, the wolves still following behind. Eventually the other half of the pack caught up to both Y/N and Felipe in the front and spooked them, Y/N fell off the horse’s back and Felipe’s reins got stuck onto a tree branch.

Y/N quickly got up from the snowy ground and found the nearest thick stick that she could find and stood in front of Felipe to help protect him. She swung the stick left and right, battling the canines on her own, but the stick was split in half when one of the wolves' sharp teeth gnawed into it. Y/N stood there in shock not knowing what to do..she was about to get eaten along with her beloved horse. A wolf leaped out of nowhere and took a bite of her coat, throwing her off her balance and making her fall to the ground. She screamed in terror, as another wolf leaped at her ready to bite. Until she heard a loud thud from the wolf’s body and a loud roar. She looked up and saw Miguel who stood beside her and protected her with his large body on top of her. He then jumped away from her leading the wolves far from her reach and fought them on his own, he scratched, bit, he harmed, and almost killed.

The wolves, intimidated by his dominant presence, whimpered and scurried away from him. Miguel let out one final growl until he looked directly at Y/N, his eyes showed relief that she was fine, but quickly rolled behind his head as he weakly fell down onto the cold icy ground. He was bleeding with many bites and scratches from the wolves. He panted heavily as the pain from his wounds slowly enveloped him. Y/N was going to take advantage to run away but stopped…she would be no better than a crude human to leave him out there. He saved her life…and she owed him. She slowly walked away from Felipe and kneeled down to Miguel and whispered. “Hey, I know it hurts…but you have to help me...”

She was able to somehow get Miguel to stand up and mount the horse. His body however limped on it as he was too weak to sit properly on the horse. Y/N bit her lip in worry as she took off her coat and wrapped it over Miguel’s wound.

Y/N slowly united Felipe’s reins from the tree branch and slowly led him back to the castle.

With the beast on his back.

taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n, @badbishsblog, @faimmm, @keendreamknight, @texanadmirer, @stargirrls, @itzsab

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel atsv

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rizsu · 1 year

Text

project: i'm going insane suna rintarō.

sum. when a project brings together two students & possible crushes. ( no part two sry !! )

a quiet room with only the sweet melody of birds singing tales as the sun kisses your skin. ah, how sweet. it's such a blessing—being lost in paradise as you gaze upon the dancing flowers. truly a magicial scenery! oh, how divine. how divine it is indeed—

“students are to pair up with their deskmate for the project.”

right, you're still in class. reality is truly a pain. you really could've been listening to the sweet melody of birds but instead you got the sweet melody of hell (school).

you haven't turned to face your partner yet. you're not gonna face suna rintaro right now—especially not after he witnessed you graciously trip on nothing this morning.

“so are you gonna talk or are you gonna continue looking at me every five seconds from the side of your eye?” suna asked, tilting his head into his palm while he knocks his pen against the desk.

“i'd rather not honestly.”

“i don't care about your excellent fall this morning, y/n.”

that got it. that sentence awards itself as the sentence that made you whip your head to suna.

“don't spread lies. anyways, what're we gonna do for that project?”

raising his eyebrow, suna thinks. what are you guys going to do actually? he's sure that he'd forget about the whole project after three days.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, typing in random numbers into his calculator before continuing, “here, save my number we can talk more about it later.”

leaning into his side of the desk, you secretly pull your phone out from your bag, trying to save his contact as fast as you can before your homeroom teacher turns back facing the class.

“why the fuck did you save me as ‘some hoe’?!”

“mind your business.”

ಇ. AT HOME

it's 7 pm. you're just coming out of the shower, patting your face with a towel before reaching for your phone.

i should text suna, you think. double tapping your screen, you eyes widen slightly in surprise. it seems as though the other party had the same plans as you did.

snickering at the spammed messages, you opened his chat.

“what a fucking loser.” giggling at his text, you place your phone down going back to finishing your nightly routine.

ಇ. NEXT DAY

if there's one word to describe your mood right now it'll be annoyed. it's far too early for anything nor do you have the time and patience to talk with anyone at 06:45 am. releasing your earbuds from its jail, you put both on at max volume and try to continue your previous slumber.

“no way you're sleeping right now.” a soft voice speaks, the owner of the voice wraps his palm around your neck squeezing it a little.

you don't respond. you know what they say, don't respond to the devil!

oh but that doesn't stop suna. not at all! who is he if not your number one bully? suna knows your aware that he's next to you so how dare you ignore him! clicking his tongue, the boy pulls out one of your buds and places it in his ear before sitting down copying the exact way you're sitting.

suna looks at you. his eyes scanning through your features with a small smile. you're pretty, really. he notes every little feature on you mentally—noting how you always have two fringes/braids framing your face, noting how you actually fell asleep, noting how good your music taste is.

lemme save these songs too, suna thinks. he reaches over for your phone before dropping his hoodie on you. it's quite cold this morning and he'd rather not hear your ten-thousand complaints when you wake up from the nap.

──

“CAN YOU NOT WALK SO FAST?!”

“can't help that i'm an athlete.”

“NO ONE CARES! SLOW DOWN A LITTLE.”

it's 5:42 pm, the beams of the evening sky color the area in its glory. it'd be a beautiful scenery if two teenagers weren't bickering down the street.

a young boy, around six feet tall, walks with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a yogurt. behind him stands a young girl, around (your height), walks with anger as she playfully throws her school bag at the boy.

“keep hitting me and see if i won't throw you down the street.” the boy says, wiggling his finger at the girl as he warns her.

“are you trying to tussle and bussle?” the girl answers back, rolling her eyes at him.

“bussle... what is your vocabulary?” the boy questions, fighting back a smile. he finds her sentence amusing.

“don't question it. anyways, can we go to a café?”

“yeah, i'll grab some snacks for my sister too.”

and so, they set off (still bickering).

ಇ. MIDNIGHT

giggling at your convo, you smile hard before coming to realization.

“did i just fucking giggle at suna?!” questioning yourself out loud, you raise one eyebrow before switching off your phone. i'm going insane, you think.

laying down in a starfish position, you look up at the ceiling wondering about your feelings towards the one and only suna rintarō.

do you like him? yes.

is he annoying? yes.

do you like his company? yes.

do you wish to bash his head in with a rock sometimes? yes.

your romantic emotions clash with your platonic emotions which then clashes with your confusion and creates a whole new headache!

i don't have time for this.

meanwhile at suna's

“ayah, do you think i'm crazy?” suna asks. he's sitting at the end of his bed staring at a wall.

“yes!” the little girl answered, playing with her toys as she ignores her older brother's reaction.

ಇ. NEXT DAY

at the school's gym holds two teenagers that sit side by side, judging other students. one student named suna rintarō aggressively chews on his gum agreeing with the words being said as the other named y/n l/n continues to judge.

“y'know the girl in the right's cheating on her boyfriend?” you say, raising your eyebrows at you look at suna.

gasping, suna looks at you, “you're lying oh my god.”

“no i swear. like, if i was her boyfriend i'd just go home right now.” you replied, shrugging your shoulders as you reach for one of suna's gums.

“that's crazy but who are we to judge honestly.” suna says, popping his gum before standing up.

“i have practice until six today—” he stops before leaning down to your ground level, “don't miss me.” he continues, slightly smirking before pinching your cheek.

“hands OFF. and no, i won't miss you.” shoving his hand away, you stand up to walk out the gym with him (even though there's no reason to).

— at suna's.

suna walks into his home, greeting his family before dragging himself up to his room. he's whipped and absolutely battered. sometimes, he thinks he's not cut out for volleyball—well at least not with mr. perfect kita who does indeed follow a properly written routine.

i'm fucking beat, suna thinks. he plops onto his bed face down but immediately turns around. he thinks about the little interaction from earlier today; you guys were close. he's not really a teasing person but he doesn't know what possessed him to get that close—close to the point he could've moved five centimetres and your lips would meet.

you know that little cartoon effect where a red blush rushes from the character's neck to the head? yeah, that's suna right now. he's done and DUSTED.

“this cannot be real.” suna whispers, he thinks he's going insane. no way he can't stop thinking about you. no way. reaching over for his phone, suna looks at the screen before thinking, should i text her or nah.

he goes with the “nah” option and decides to take a nap. maybe he'll sort his feelings out after his nap.

#+ rizsu: haikyuu.#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu fluff #suna x you #suna fluff

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katnissmellarkkk · 9 months

Note

tis I with a prompt: I request the first time post war Katniss lets Peeta into her bed again 🥺

AN : wrote this the night you sent the prompt but I absolutely hated it until now. I finally got around to cleaning this up a bit and now I think it’s cute? Lemme know, all of y’all, if you like it! And my writing muscles are rusty so send me a prompt if you like, to try and work me out please! Can’t make any promises about what’ll trigger my brain but I can sure try! Anywaysss hope y’all enjoy this lil post-mockingjay-pre-epilogue drabble here!

I watch with dread as Peeta scrubs away the last bit of sauce still dried to his plate.

“You really don’t have to do that,” I murmur halfheartedly from where I lean against the counter, watching him.

“It’s rude to not wash your own plate after dinner,” he says, his tone somewhat coy. He’s teasing me, I realize. He’s maybe even flirting with me but I can’t be sure and even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to make of it.

“I never wash mine after eating at your house,” I mumble, mostly to myself. I know he doesn’t care about cleaning off my plate for me. I know that he knows that I don’t mind washing his plate either.

But I don’t push the point and neither does he. Because we’re both stalling the inevitable.

It’s past ten at night and it’s time for Peeta to go home now. This time comes every day and we should be more prepared for it by this point, but every single night when the sun has long since left the sky and you can barely make out five feet in front of you without a flashlight, Peeta walks out the front door and my chest aches, as he disappears out into the night.

Ask him to stay, a tiny voice that sounds weirdly like both Haymitch and my mother — at the same exact time — pressures me.

But my tongue won’t cooperate and I can’t make the words form on my lips and I feel my stomach flip as I stutter out an awkward goodbye instead.

“Goodnight, Katniss,” Peeta says evenly, his face smooth and peaceful and totally level as he reaches out and squeezes my hand before moving to grab his coat.

He’s walking towards the door and I feel the familiar dread — the dread that’s been my constant companion for longer than I care to remember — rise up in my stomach and for a split second I want to reach out and grasp his elbow. For a split second I want to grab onto him and stop him from leaving.

And for a moment I plan to ask him to stay, to come upstairs with me, to get into his pajamas and brush his teeth by my side at the sink, to crawl beneath the sheets and hold me until we hear birds begin to chirp with the morning light. In that moment I plan to ask him to do exactly what we used to do on the train, exactly what we used to do every single night, back before everything between us completely shattered beyond recognition.

My hand drops midair before I can make the contact with his arm but it catches his attention just the same.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires, his face becoming concerned.

“Nothing,” I brush off tightly. Instead of saying what I’m thinking, instead of saying what I want, I just force a smile and lightly graze his hand. “Get home safe.”

At that, he shoots me a bemused look. “I live three houses from you. Somehow I think I’ll be fine.”

I nod and chuckle as he leaves, as he disappears into the night, making the shortest of journeys home, unwittingly leaving me to dwell in regret for all the things I wish I’d just come out and said.

As soon as the door shuts between us regret the size of an elephant lands on my chest.

And I know, without a doubt, this is going to be one bad night for me.

The funny thing about my nightmares is they never lose their edge. Not with time, not with practice, not with comparison. I’ve seen Cato get eaten by the mutts hundreds of times. I’ve watched Clove stab me with her knives and Brutus chase me through the jungle and Enobaria break my neck with one hand, more than I could possibly count.

I’ve witnessed my sister detonate, as if I’m still standing right there, in the city circle of the Capitol. I’ve witnessed it thousands of times since that day. I’ve witnessed it more often than I’ve managed to actually sleep since that day.

And it never gets easier. It never becomes routine. I’m never ever prepared for it.

Instead I’m left paralyzed as the same dreams plague me over and over and over again.

Other things do change though. I used to thrash around, kicking and screaming as the dreams tortured me for minutes on end. I used to wake up, sweat covered and coiled up in my bedding, trapped in a physical sense that only manages to make my dreams even more intense somehow.

But over time something shifted and somehow, between the bomb that killed my sister and taking down Coin and the trial I scarcely remember, the thrashing stopped and the walking began.

For months now, I’ve woken to find myself in strange rooms, in small crawl spaces I didn’t know existed, inside cupboards and beneath beds no one’s ever used in guest rooms I barely recognize.

But I’ve never found myself outside before. Never, in all the time I’ve dealt with these dreams, have I ever once ended up in my front lawn.

Never, in my wildest imagination, did I picture myself waking from my nightmare, facedown in some dirt, ripping grass from the ground as I let out a rabid scream.

“Katniss,” I hear a voice softly murmur, like speaking to an injured fawn, terrified of scaring them away. “Katniss, it’s okay.”

And my lips cry for the voice before my brain fully recognizes it. “Peeta?”

“It’s just me,” he says, and I feel his hands grasp the tops of my arms, gently pulling me upright. “It’s only me.”

I pry my swollen eyes open and take in Peeta’s kind, worried face, mere inches away from mine.

“You’re here?” I croak, still groggy and confused. “What’s going on?”

“You were having a nightmare,” he explains, thumbing away my tears as more come pouring out. “But it’s over now. It was just a dream. You’re okay.” His hand cups my cheek softly, holding the weight of my head.

I nod plaintively, my body still completely exhausted despite the fact I was just asleep. “I’m okay,” I try to say but all that comes out is a guttural raspy sound and I watch as his face softens even more.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” he whispers, offering me his hand.

I take it without question, but find that I’m not upright for long. The moment I’m standing, my bare feet touching the dewy grass, Peeta bends down and scoops me up in his arms.

I don’t question it though. Maybe secretly I wanted him to do that. I definitely didn’t want to wait around to see if Haymitch came outside, asking why I was screaming at this hour of the day.

Peeta carries me into the house as if I weigh as much as Buttercup, kicking the door shut behind him and walking over to the couch. He sits down with me on his lap and drops his arms, as if to let me decide the next move. I could either crawl away from him, put some distance between us, or I could remain where I am.

To me, the choice barely takes any consideration.

I curl up closer to him, the images from the dream still too fresh to handle alone. I press my face into his neck and fold myself into him and hope he reciprocates in kind.

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to respond. As soon as I initiate it, he’s there, pulling me tighter, cradling me against him, rocking me back and forth like I’m something precious to behold.

“It’s okay,” he repeats again and again and again, as if we entered a time warp and we’re back on the train, back in the Capitol in our little apartment, sharing a bed, guarding against nightmares we stupidly thought would be the height of our troubles. “I have you, Katniss. I won’t let anything hurt you now.”

I cry into the collar of his shirt, drained and shaking and still half-crazed, feeling slightly better only when his fingers begins to smooth my hair away from my face.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Peeta whispers gently, his hand moving from my hair to my lower back, rubbing soft, soothing circles there to alleviate my trembling.

Time begins to pass. My tears dwindle to nothing. I feel the shaking come to an end. Every last ounce of energy I have left seeps from my body. My eyes grow heavy.

And pretty soon, I feel myself lifted once again, into strong, protective arms, cradling me like a baby as they carry me up the stairs and down to the end of the hall.

I’m tucked into bed gently, with the utmost care. The covers are brought up to my chin, my hair is brushed off my forehead and his fingers lightly dance upon my cheek. But it’s not enough. I still crave more.

“Don’t leave me,” I whisper, and my voice still isn’t mine, it’s someone else, someone who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants. For who she wants to lay beside her in the darkness.

“Okay,” he murmurs and it sounds like a promise but as he sits down on the side of my bed and takes my hand in his, planting a soft kiss upon the back of it, I know he doesn’t understand what I’m truly asking.

“No, Peeta, that’s not what I meant,” I say, shaking my head, before pushing the covers back. “Can you get in? Can you stay with me?”

I don’t really grasp my word choice and all the underlying meanings until it’s already slipped out and too late to take back again.

But I only have a moment to be filled with regret. Because that’s how long it takes Peeta to slide in beside me.

And as I curl into him, wrapping my leg around his waist, burrowing my face in the curve of his neck, basking in the feeling of utter safety and happiness that I have never, ever found in another pair of arms, he whispers the only thing that could erase my chagrin.

“Always.”

#everlark #thg #hunger games #thw #Katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #300 #my drabbles #my writing #drabble #everlark drabble #thg fanfic #everlark fanfiction

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wheresarizona · 10 months

Text

Learning to Live Part 21

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (reader is a nurse with no physical descriptions)

summary: Javier finally gets to do something he’s been dreaming about (fucking your ass).

rating: E (18+!!! This is literally smut and fluff. No y/n, age gap (around 10 years), soft Javier Peña, alternating pov, the plot of this chapter is anal, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie(s), anal sex (f receiving), anal fingering (f receiving), vaginal fingering, double penetration, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), squirting, breeding kink, spanking, multiple orgasms, praise kink (oh boy, is there praise), dirty talk, banter, domestic fluff, aftercare, Javier being a consent king, Javier being adorable)

word count: 9.3k+

a/n: Yes, I dedicated an entire chapter to anal, don’t look at me, we all wanted it! Absolutely finished this chapter on a crowded plane flying across the continent to @juletheghoul's house. Shoutout to @azure-waves for giving this a look over.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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“Hot date tonight?” your coworker and best friend, Robyn, asked as you hurriedly got up from your chair at the nurse’s station desk. Four patient charts you’d finished notating were held in one of your arms, pressed to your chest.

“What makes you think I have a hot date?” you replied, walking behind her to the opposite wall where the hanging file folder rack was, putting them in the right slot for the next shift.

“You’re antsy,” she answered in her Texas twang, making your way back to her, taking a seat beside her.

Robyn always looked like she was ready for a night out with her beautiful chestnut-colored hair pulled up in a ponytail, her lips painted in cherry red lipstick, and her makeup looking professionally done. It must take her a while to get ready in the morning, and frankly, you could never—for you, it was making yourself look presentable, and that’s it; hell, some mornings you didn’t even bother with makeup.

Your leg bounced as you checked your watch, seeing your day was over in less than ten minutes, hoping the nurse who was supposed to take over arrived on time.

“And,” Robyn continued, your head turning to meet her blue eyes, her smirking, “you did your chart notes faster than a sneeze through a screen door, so I know you’re dyin’ to get the hell out of here.”

Looking down the hall in front of the desk and side to side to make sure no one was around, you leaned close, whispering, “Every date with Javi is hot, but tonight we’re trying something new…”

Her eyes were sparkling in delight as she gave you a toothy smile. “In the bedroom?” she inquired.

“Yeah…”

There was excitement on her face. “Ooh, lemme guess. Bondage?”

That had you intrigued, thinking of the times you’ve seen Javi with ropes at the ranch and how good he was with them, now imagining him tying you up or fuck, tying him up—heat was creeping up your neck.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Blindfolds?”

That was another one that had your attention, Javi covering your eyes and doing whatever he wanted to you. God, and if you were tied up, too? Swallowing thickly, you were suddenly feeling very warm.

“No…” you finally answered.

“Roleplay?”

“Not yet.” You wagged your finger. “But he’s down to play out my Detective Peña fantasy—so I’ve got something to look forward to.”

Sunday night, when you and Robyn had secretly gone over to Chucho’s to prep the pork for the tamales, you’d told her all about the Detective Peña dream when the older man left the room. The three of you had drunk beers and gossiped about the townspeople while you got the Crockpot ready.

“Get it, girl!” she replied, high-fiving you. “Okay, so y’all are kinda vanilla. This thing you’re excited about tonight, does it take you out of your comfort zone?”

Your face pinched. “Vanilla?” you asked. “We are not vanilla—we have had sex in too many risky places to be vanilla.”

“Sure, but he’s only stuck his dick in your mouth or pussy...”

Footsteps sounded coming closer from the hallway to your right, both of you pausing as your friend Gil, an orderly, came into view assisting one of your elderly patients using a walker, her on his left side closest to the desk.

“Hi, Miss Martha!” you and Robyn greeted in unison with big smiles. “Hey, Gil!”

“Hi, girls,” the old woman replied, smiling at you both.

“Hello, ladies,” Gil’s sweet voice said. He could be described as a human teddy bear—soft, adorable, and huggable.

“Way to get those steps in, Miss Martha!” you told her. “That new hip is doing you wonders.”

They were halfway past the desk.

“It sure is. Soon I’ll be walkin’ without Gil’s help.”

“Yes, you will,” he replied. “You’ll be out walking me in no time.”

“Such a nice young man.” They were almost to the other end of the desk. “You girls, have a blessed day!”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Martha,” Robyn called out to her.

“See you later, Gil,” you said,

“Bye, ladies.” He waved as they made it out of view and earshot.

Your attention turned back to Robyn, continuing your conversation from before, “He’s only stuck his dick in my mouth or pussy until tonight.”

Her eyes got big. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “You’re finally gonna let him fuck your ass?”

Smiling, you nodded, speaking just as quietly, “Yes. You sold me on it when you said you’ve never come quicker than when you do anal.”

“It’s true and so fuckin’ good. You’re gonna love it! Just remember lube, lube, lube, and relax. Javi’s a stand-up guy, so I have no doubt he’ll get you ready.”

“Oh, yeah—the man loves foreplay, and he’s been looking forward to this for a while, so I know he’ll make sure it’s a good time.”

“Okay, but Javi’s been obsessin’ about your ass for so long. I gotta know his reaction when you told him you were down to try it.”

“Oh my god, Robyn, he was so fucking ridiculous,” you answered in exasperation. First thing that morning, you’d told her about the previous day, making tamales with your boyfriend’s family and the barbecue, even bringing her a couple she loved. “Like, we were at his dad’s, as you know, and ended up fucking in Javi’s bathroom with the house full of people—don’t give me that look—“ You pointed at her. “—he can be really fucking irresistible, and I just can’t help it—all common sense leaves my brain, and my pussy takes over.”

“Hey—” She put up her hands in defense. “—I ain’t judgin’ you. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been fucked in a busy bar bathroom.”

Taking a deep breath, you replied, “You know, I thought my sex life with Javi was very adventurous and kinky, but then you come in here talking about getting fucked in busy bar bathrooms or going to orgies in San Antonio, and I’m not so sure—Oh god,” you gasped, eyes wide, coming to a realization.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“We’re vanilla!” you exclaimed. “We’re so fucking vanilla!”

Robyn laughed, pushing your shoulder. “I fuckin’ told you! But hey, y’all are more than welcome at the next orgy.” She wagged her eyebrows.

You made a face, not liking that idea one bit.

“Thanks, but no thanks. We’re kinda… territorial and not into sharing.”

That was a big thing you and Javi agreed on—neither of you wanted or needed anyone else; it was him and you for the rest of your lives, and you were both beyond happy with that.

“Suit yourselves.” She shrugged. “Okay, so you fucked at his dad’s...”

“Yes.” You nodded. “We fucked, and afterward is when I mentioned it, and he fucking tried to get me to leave right that second! Just completely forgot I said we couldn’t do it until today. I was like, ‘Javier, we are not bailing on your family barbecue for sex,’ and he, honest to god, pouted—” You threw up your hands. “—and he was so fucking clingy all night, grabbing my ass constantly. He was stuck to me like glue, and his family kept teasing the fuck out of him for it.”

“I ain’t even surprised,” she replied. “I swear, all men ever think about is sex and don’t much care about anythin’ else.”

That made you frown. “Javi isn’t always thinking about sex—he’s honestly a big fucking sweetheart. God, you can’t tell anyone, but sometimes he says the most poetically romantic shit in Spanish. You’ve seen the Addams Family movies, right? The new ones?”

“Of course—Addams Family Values is my favorite.”

“Same. Javi goes full Gomez—like the same level of devotion and obsession, and I sometimes can’t believe he loves me like that. Me! And he’s so hot, Robyn. What in the actual fuck. How did I land him?”

“‘Cause you’re a goddamn catch and amazin’,” she answered, patting your knee. “Hell, if Javi hadn’t gotten there first, I would’ve made a pass at you.” She winked.

Your lips pulled up in a grin. “I am so fucking flattered right now.”

“Good—I am so excited for your evenin’ plans!”

“I am, too! And nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be, girl.” She waved away your words. “He’ll make sure you’re good and ready and then take you to fuckin’ paradise.”

“God, I know he will.”

The nurse taking over for you was five minutes late with a coffeeshop coffee in hand. You’d given her a quick rundown on how your four patients were doing and when you last administered medications before bolting from the hospital.

Excitement and nerves were swirling in your belly on your drive home, the music turned down, and the air conditioning all the way up while you thought about what you’d do in the hour you had before Javi would be home from work; a shower was necessary, figuring he wouldn’t mind if you took one alone.

Should you lie on the bed naked, waiting for him when you were done?

A plan wasn’t made on when the event would take place. It was unspoken between you both that it was definitely happening after work; neither of you could wait.

He’d love coming home and finding you ready for him—you’d have the supplies, too, lube a must, some glasses of water, and maybe the sex towel, which was a big, thick, black towel that was used when sex was messy, like on your period, or if he was in the mood to make you squirt.

It was a surprise when you pulled into your parking spot at the apartment, and Javi’s truck was already in the neighboring one, making you wonder how long he’d been home as you grabbed your purse and exited your car.

Briskly, you walked to your front door, quickly getting it open and going inside. Your keys were tossed in the large bowl on the console table in the entryway with Javi’s own keys and wallet, your purse set beside it, toeing off your shoes.

He wasn’t in the living room, and the bedroom door was closed, assuming that was where he was.

“Javi?” you called, making your way toward it. “Why are you home early?”

Turning the doorknob, you pushed open the door, stopping when you took in the room.

Rose petals led from the doorway and up onto the end of the mattress, Javi’s bedside lamp on, the rest of the room illuminated by lit candles on the dressers, and for a split second, you thought he was going to propose, until you saw the sex towel neatly folded on top of the bed, with the bottle of lube nestled on it—the whole scene was honestly fucking hilarious. You would’ve laughed, but instead, your eyes were going wide, sucking in a breath at your boyfriend naked as the day he was born, sitting there with his back against the pillows, black-rimmed reading glasses on as he read a paperback easily held in one of his big hands.

The book lowered, his head tilting up, looking at you with a smile on his face. “Hola, mi amor (Hello, my love),” he rasped.

You gulped, your body feeling hot. “Hi, Javi,” you breathed. “What, uh, what’s all this?” you asked, gesturing toward him.

He grabbed his bookmark on the mattress beside him, shoving it in the paperback and setting it on the table. “You know exactly, what this is,” he replied, discarding his glasses on top of the book, Javi getting up from the bed with a groan.

It took you a second to get your wits about you as Javi closed the distance. “You got fucking rose petals—” you said, pointing at the trail of them. “—and lit candles, like it’s our anniversary or some shit. Not to mention, you looking like something straight out of a goddamn wet dream—the glasses, Javier? The glasses while naked, Javier? Are you trying to kill me with your sexiness?”

He snorted, crowding into your space, his hands cradling your jaw as his mouth slotted against yours in a searing kiss, your eyes closing, your fingers finding their way in his damp hair, realizing he’d already showered. You moaned when he licked into your mouth, tangling his tongue with your own in the way that made your toes curl.

God, he was perfect, and you loved him more than anything.

The kissing slowed, him murmuring into your lips, “I wasn’t trying to kill you, baby—was just reading while I waited for you.”

You pulled on his hair to make him look at you, his eyes hooded and mouth turned up in a smirk under his perfectly trimmed mustache.

“You’re a dirty fucking liar,” you accused. “But a sexy, dirty fucking liar—what’s with the petals and candles? You’ve literally never been this romantic when we fuck.”

He frowned. “I’ve been romantic when we fuck,” he argued.

“Okay, yes, we’ve had very romantic sex before—I quite enjoyed when you made me sit on your dick while we watched the sunset at your dad’s last week. I just mean, you’ve never gone all out like this. Why tonight?”

He had a look on his face like it was obvious. “It’s a special occasion…”

You huffed out a breath, patting his cheek. “It’s anal, babe—horny, nasty sex that you’re going to be feral about, not us celebrating Valentine’s.”

His eyes darted away. “But it’s your first time getting fucked in the ass, so I wanted to make it memorable…” He sighed, pushing his fingers through his hair. “It’s too much…”

“Hey, it’s not too much,” you reassured him, getting his eyes to meet yours. “It’s sweet, and I can assure you I didn’t need all of this pizazz for it to be memorable—I’ll always remember tonight and how you took my ass virginity.”

An amused breath left him, his hands moving to squeeze your behind. “Yeah, I am going to take your ass virginity.” He smacked your asscheek. “And I can’t fucking wait—go take a shower.”

“Someone’s bossy,” you replied, pulling your shirt off and letting it drop to the floor. Pecking his lips, you moved around him, heading toward the bathroom, pausing to get your pants and socks off.

“Someone’s horny,” he corrected, picking up your top and tossing it in the dirty clothes hamper.

Looking over your shoulder as you unhooked your bra, your eyes dipped down to see he was already half-hard. “Yeah, you are horny.” Your bra was off, now shimmying out of your underwear. “When did you get home?”

“An hour ago.”

You were completely naked, walking to your destination.

“Second day on the job, and you left work early for sex.” In the en suite, you flicked on the light and fan, grabbing and putting on your shower cap to keep your hair dry as you moved to the shower, Javi standing in the doorway.

“Told the Sheriff I had an important errand to run.”

The water had been turned on, waiting for it to warm. “Uh huh, and did the florist ask what you needed the rose petals for?” you asked over the roar of the shower.

“Yeah, I told her about how you made mi mamá's tamales and that I had a surprise for when you got home today—she assumed jewelry, and I didn’t correct her.”

“Oh, I was surprised, alright.” It was finally hot enough, getting in under the spray and quickly beginning to wash yourself. “Honestly, you in nothing but a pair of glasses is way better than anything, including jewelry, unless!” you exclaimed. “It’s a ring for my left hand—that trumps everything, even your dick.”

A mass in the shape of your boyfriend blocked the light outside of the frosted glass door of the shower stall, him rolling it open while you were in the process of scrubbing your front with a loofah.

“Fucking knew you’d like the glasses,” he said, reaching to palm your soapy breast, his fingers tweaking your nipple.

“I fucking knew you wore them on purpose,” you replied, turning to face the water to rinse off, his hand falling. “I see we’re glossing over the engagement ring mention, which, I won’t lie, the flower petals and candles had my hopes up.”

“Oh.” Glancing over at him, his eyes were wide, his face gone pale. “Oh, fuck, I’m so fucking sorry, Cielito.”

You waved away his apology with your free hand, scrubbing your body one more time. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I saw the towel and lube and realized you were just being romantically horny. I’m not disappointed. I’m extremely excited about tonight. Do you have a game plan?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me your game plan?”

“No.”

“Oh, how the turn tables,” you replied, reminded of the morning before when you kept it a secret what you were going to do to him. “Now, you are not allowed to stray from your plan but let me guess.”

“Okay.” He sounded amused, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

You were making sure every bit of you was clean while you said, “For foreplay, you’ll eat me out, and use your fingers in my ass to get me ready, then you’ll put me on all fours so you can hit it from the back.”

There was a thoughtful expression on his face, humming in the back of his throat. “You’re correct that I’ll use my fingers, and at some point, I will have you on your hands and knees.”

“Two outta three isn’t bad.”

“It’s more one out of the three.” He shrugged.

Your eyebrows knitted together. “But you said you were going to put me on my hands and knees… How did I not get it right?”

He smirked. “You’ll find out.”

“Well, now I’m curious as fuck. Towel me.” The water was turned off, your entire body completely clean, as Javi disappeared for a second, returning with a fluffy white towel. It was the world’s quickest shower, and you hurriedly dried yourself off before getting out, leaving the towel on the floor and hanging up the shower cap to dry.

“Good?” he asked, standing in front of you.

“I am squeaky clean and ready to rumble.” You nodded.

Javi grabbed your hand, leading you into the bedroom, his excitement practically palpable, making you smile. He ushered you onto the bed, getting you in the middle, him following and ending up on top of you. His fingers laced with yours above your head, his hips resting in the cradle of your spread thighs, kissing you hard.

Arousal was thrumming in your veins, feeling it burning in your belly, wanting him so badly—his tongue pressed between your lips, sliding along yours, pulling a moan from your throat. Your pussy was weeping for him, knowing you were wet, the anticipation of the evening swelling inside you.

He held both of your hands easily in one as his mouth moved, nipping at your chin and kissing a wet streak along your jaw and down your neck, gasping his name when he sucked over your pulse.

“You want me, Cielito?” he asked against your skin, his free hand grabbing your bare breast and squeezing it while his lips found their way onto your collarbone.

“Yes, Javi,” you moaned. “Want you so bad.”

His cock was hard between your bodies, pressing into your belly, Javi keeping your hands where they were while he maneuvered to suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth, your back arching at the jolt of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt. His teeth grazed against it, and your mouth fell open, wishing you could grab his hair. He moved to your other breast to give it the same treatment, your eyes squeezing shut.

“It’s so good, Javi,” you gasped.

He came off your hard bud with a wet pop, his head moving to look you in the eyes.

“Can I fuck you?” he asked.

Your eyes widened. “Uh, I feel like we’re missing the very important step where you use your fingers to make sure your big dick doesn’t hurt me. There’s no way you could fuck me yet—I’m clenching at the thought.”

“No, not your ass.” He shook his head. “Your pussy—I’m not gonna just shove my dick inside you without the right prep. I’m not an asshole.”

You let out a relieved breath. “I know you’re not an asshole, babe. It’s a little surprising you want to fuck my pussy when I’m giving you free rein of my ass.”

A little smile appeared on his lips. “Baby, if I stick my dick in your ass, I will come immediately, so I need to get off before to actually last.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Damn, I knew you were really into it, but immediately?”

“Yeah—been waiting to do this for so fucking long, you’ll make me lose it.”

“Why is that so hot? Of course, you can fuck me, Javi. I know you’ll make me feel really good.”

“Thank you, Cielito,” he replied, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. He let go of your hands and sat up on his knees with a groan. “Need you on your hands and knees, baby,” he said, lightly smacking your thigh.

“So, you are fucking me in doggy. I just got the hole wrong,” you replied, flipping over onto your stomach. His big hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling you up into position.

“Yeah, so you were wrong—move forward a bit. Can you get into that one yoga thing?”

“Which pose?”

“Where your ass is up in the air, and your chest is against the floor.”

“Oh, puppy pose.” You kept your butt high, spreading your knees a little, dropping your chest down to the mattress to rest your forehead on your folded arms. This caused your hips to tilt back and really put your pussy on display. “I think I deserve half credit, at least for kinda getting it right.”

“A wrong answer is a wrong answer.”

Your eyes narrowed, turning your head to the side to look back at him as best you could. “You’re a real hardass, Javier—thank god you didn’t go into teaching.” The thought conjured up images of him as a professor, wearing a suit and his reading glasses, looking grumpy while he taught, and it made your skin feel hot, swallowing hard.

He was smirking like he knew what you were thinking, and it annoyed you, his hands squeezing your ass. “What’s making you horny, mi amor (my love)?”

“God,” you groaned, facing forward again, your words muffled. “I’m too fucking attracted to you and the goddamn glasses!”

“What, baby?” he asked, sliding his palm along your spine.

“You’re just really sexy, and I was thinking about you as a professor, and it got me all hot and bothered—anyways, I’m so fucking horny, and I’d like to be fucked, please,” you said, wiggling your backside at him.

His hand landed hard on your ass in a loud slap, gasping at the pleasurable sting.

“Such good manners,” he replied. “You gonna be a good girl and let me make you feel good?” he asked, smoothing his palm over your asscheek.

“Yes, Javi. I want it—I want you.”

“I’ve got you, baby.”

The springs in the mattress complained from him moving behind you, and you expected to feel his dick, a surprised sound coming from your mouth as he spread open your cheeks instead and felt him spit on your pussy. His tongue slid through your slit from just below your clit up to your entrance and back down again over and over, Javi groaning into your skin.

Pleasure ignited in your belly, feeling it slowly building in your core. He was teasing you, avoiding your clit, laving at the lips of your sex to lick up your arousal, swirling his tongue around your entrance, and dipping it inside to taste you from the source, your hands clenching in the bedding beneath you.

“It’s so good,” you moaned. “It’s so fucking good, Javi.”

He hummed in the back of his throat, finally moving low enough to flick his tongue over your neglected bundle of nerves, making you gasp his name, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your end.

Licking a broad stroke up through your folds, he kept going, and your breath hitched when he got to your tight ring of muscle. He licked and prodded at it, all of the many nerve endings being stimulated, making your toes curl at how good it felt, sparks tingling outward from your clit—you were so close to your release, you could taste it, rough sounds coming from Javi’s chest as he licked around your hole, pressing his wet muscle inside.

Using the heel of his palm, he rubbed your clit, moving it quickly from side to side—his mouth, his hand, they had everything coming to a head, you falling over the edge with a cry of his name, your body tensing up as euphoria flowed in your veins.

His head left you, hearing him panting out, “Good girl,” while he helped you ride out your high.

Some seconds later, there was jostling behind you again, removing his hand from you, your body feeling relaxed. He rubbed comfortingly along your spine. “You good? Can I fuck you now, mi amor (my love)?”

“Absolutely,” your muffled voice answered. Turning your head, you continued, “I need you to fuck me.”

He smacked your ass, smiling. “Then I will.” Leaning to the side, Javi grunted as he reached to grab something, realizing it was the lube when you heard him pop open the cap, getting some on his hand to slick up his cock. The bottle was set by his knee, him pressing the bulbous tip of himself against your soaked entrance, your mouth falling open as he easily slid home in one smooth thrust, feeling so full—Javi nestled so deep inside, you weren’t sure where he ended, and you began.

“Fuck that’s good,” he breathed, pulling out almost all the way and pushing back in, your forehead dropping to your arms.

“It’s so good,” you moaned.

His pace wasn’t slow or fast, a happy medium of him steadily thrusting in and out of you, your tight walls hugging him, and trying to suck him deeper into your depths. That familiar heat was making itself known at the base of your spine, hearing the slap of skin on skin, his hands squeezing your hips.

“Cielito?” he grunted.

“Yeah?”

“If it’s too much, tell me.”

The sound of the cap on the lube clicked open again. “What are you—” Your sentence turned into a moan as Javi liberally squirted some of the liquid onto your puckered hole, your cunt clenching as it dawned on you what he was planning to do. “Oh, god, Javi,” you gasped.

His strokes didn’t waver, the bottle dropping to the bed, him saying through his teeth, “Tell me if it’s too much. Understand?”

He was going use his fingers in your ass while he fucked you, and it had your brain short-circuiting at imagining how it would feel.

His palm landed on your ass in a resounding smack, the sweet pain getting your attention.

“Do you understand, baby?” he asked.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, his thick cock pistoning into you. “Do it!”

His thumb circled your asshole, shivering at the tingles moving down your spine, then he was pressing in, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, feeling even fuller—this was just his thumb, and it already felt like so much. How were the other fingers going to feel?

“Relax, Cielito,” he purred, his free hand rubbing soothingly against your hip, realizing your thighs had tensed up and relaxing them, welcoming the intrusion. “Good girl.” He pushed it in and pulled it out in time with his thrusts, the pleasure making your head spin, feeling yourself rocketing toward your release.

His thumb disappeared, replaced with one thick finger, then two, moaning loudly at how good it felt, it getting wetter between your legs, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking him.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he said, the digits moving in sync with his hips. “So fucking good for me, baby. Does it feel good?”

Your mouth had fallen open, drooling onto the blanket below you, not sure if you could speak. His other hand lightly slapped your thigh. “Does it feel good, Cielito?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Fuck, it’s so good—you’re fucking me so good!”

“I know I am.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re taking my fingers so well, can’t wait to feel you squeeze my dick in this tight ass,” he ended the sentence by smacking it with his free hand.

You were getting close to your climax, the fire in your belly growing rapidly, rocking back on him to feel him deeper, wanting more—his cock was moving in and out of you at the same time as his fingers, filling you over and over again, pleasure rising inside you.

It was a lot—you couldn’t think of anything else except how fucking good he was making you feel.

“I think you can take one more,” he grunted. “Can you do that? Be my good girl and take all three?”

You had the presence of mind to answer, “Yes, Papí!”

He started pushing in the third finger, and your vision went white.

You were used to him occasionally putting a thumb in your ass when he was fucking you from behind, but three of his fingers? His hands could be classified as mitts they were so fucking big, and here he was, sticking three of his sizable fingers into your ass—you came immediately.

Your orgasm slammed into you hard, a strangled sound ripped from your throat as your body seized up so tight he had to come to a stop—Javi groaned loudly at you tightening around his cock and digits, pleasure exploding out from your core, feeling it in the tips of your fingers and toes, your thoughts becoming slow, thick like molasses.

Your pussy was still fluttering around him when your body went lax.

“Can I keep going?” Javi roughly asked.

The words weren’t forming on your tongue, so you settled for an affirmative hum and a shaky thumbs up.

He started moving again, his dick in your cunt and his fingers in your ass, spreading them inside you while you went along for the ride.

“I’m close,” he gritted out. “Almost took me with you.”

“An honorable way to go,” you slurred.

He chuckled, his digits leaving your hole as he bent over you, one arm holding himself up while the other went under your middle, groaning as he pulled you up on your knees, your back to his chest—his rhythm sped up, his hands on your tits holding you to him as he chased his high, one of yours on his hip behind you the other laced with his on your breast. His lips kissed your shoulder and the side of your neck, hearing him grunting close to your ear.

His thrusts started getting uneven.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Gonna fuck my come deep—want it to, fuck.” He was panting, pausing to swallow, fucking into you harder. “Want it to ta—“ The word cut off into a pained sound, pushing his cock into you all the way to the root one last time as he came, feeling him thicken, jerking inside you and the wet pulse as spurts and spurts of his spend filled you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, making you gasp at the pleasurable pain—he rolled his hips to fuck his come deeper, wanting to fill as much of you as he could.

He came to a stop, breathing hard, both of your bodies wet with a sheen of sweat coating them. He hissed as he pulled out, his release slowing dripping down your inner thigh, squeaking in surprise when he moved to lay on the bed next to you, bringing you down with him, landing half on top of him.

His head rested on a pillow, yours on his chest, the fingers of one of your hands sliding through his wet hair, his arm wrapped around your back, drawing shapes on the soft skin of your hip with his finger as you both came down from your highs.

Javier was so relaxed he thought there was a chance he’d melt into the mattress—his rapid heartbeat was beginning to slow and even out, her nails lightly scratching at his scalp, making sparks dance along his spine.

He was content, blissed out, happy, not to mention excited about what was to come. The thought of getting to fuck her ass made his cock stir, arousal starting to burn low in his gut, knowing he would be hard again in record time.

When she told him the day before that she wanted to try anal, he was ready to go right then—he didn’t want to wait, having dreamed about it for so long, he was aching to feel her so tight around his dick, and she was tight, snugly squeezing his fingers when they were inside her.

Another thing that riled him up was the fact he was the first to fuck her ass, and it had him feeling some type of way, knowing he’d be the first and last to get the honor, hoping she’d like it enough to want to do it again.

He was already half-hard just thinking about it, glad he’d been smart enough to come before the main event to ensure he lasted more than two, maybe three pumps—he wanted her to have a great first experience and it ending as soon as he worked his cock into her would be pretty fucking disappointing even though he knew she wouldn’t complain, always saying it was a compliment when he came sooner than he hoped.

Still, he was determined to do this right by her, wanting it to be a night she remembered fondly, which was why he left work early to get the rose petals, buy the tealight candles, and stop at the grocery store to get ingredients for him to make her dinner, well aware that she hadn’t eaten much that day. Were the candles and petals a bit much? Maybe, but her face, when she walked into the room, was worth it—seeing clearly how much he turned her on had pride swelling in his chest.

“Wow, that was something,” she croaked, breaking the silence and taking him from his thoughts.

“A good something?” he inquired, his finger on her hip, spelling out her first name and his last for probably the fifteenth time that they’d been lying like this.

She tilted her face up to look at him, her fingers stroking through the hair just above his ear.

“A very good something,” she replied. “Like, I was really fucking nervous about three of your huge ass fingers inside of my ass—just your thumb feels like a lot—but my god, Robyn wasn’t lying about you taking me to fuckin’ paradise.”

He snorted, turning his head to kiss her forehead, his chest puffing up a little. “You liked it that much?” Hope rose inside him that she’d answer in the affirmative.

“God, yeah. Your dick is going to feel so good. A big reason I wanted to try it was because she told me she’s never come quicker than when she does anal, and I get it now.”

“She convinced you?”

“Yep, she sure did. Oh! She gave me more ideas today.”

Smiling, he asked, “What ideas?”

“The first was bondage which immediately made me think of how good you are with those ropes at the ranch and you tying me up in bed.” His cock twitched, his blood heating. “The second was blindfolds, which really got me going at the idea of pairing that with the ropes, so I can’t see or move, and you can basically do whatever you want to me.”

His mouth had gone dry, his brain playing out possible scenarios that had his cock becoming fully hard.

He licked his lips. “Can we send her a fruit basket? That’s what you send people as thanks, right?”

She laughed, cradling his cheek. “Oh my god, the basket arriving at the hospital with a card reading, ‘Thanks for the orgasmic ideas,’ she’d love it, but I think she’d love a gift certificate to a spa even more.”

“We’ll fucking get her one,” he said, his head moving to kiss her palm.

“We’ll do that this weekend.”

“Good.” His dick was throbbing as it lay on his stomach. “Sorry, baby, I need to get on my side.”

“Not a problem,” she replied, moving off of him to lie on her back beside him as he turned onto his side to face her.

The flat of his hand moved up her stomach to grab one of her breasts while he leaned over her to kiss her lips, her fingers tangling in his hair—pinching at her hard nipple had her moaning. Javier took the opportunity to deepen the kiss with a press of his tongue into her mouth, sliding it along hers in practiced movements.

His hard cock dug into her hip, wetting her skin with precum, the kissing getting more fervent, their teeth clattering and noses bumping, almost like they were trying to fuse themselves together with their mouths. He skated his hand back down her body and over her soft belly to between her legs, sliding two fingers through their combined mess, using the slick to circle her swollen little clit.

“Javi,” she moaned into his lips, bucking her hips against his hand. “I want you.”

He nipped at her bottom lip, pulling back to look her in the eyes, hers glazed over in lust.

“You want my dick?” he asked through heavy breaths.

Biting her lip, she nodded. “Want it so bad.”

Quickly kissing her, he went into action, getting everything ready, the ache in his lower back making him groan when he sat up to grab the towel behind him, her lifting her hips for him to lay in on the bed under her, then he told her how he wanted her.

“Spread this leg out,” he ordered, tapping the thigh furthest away from him, watching her do as he said. “Keep this one up, okay?” The one closest to him, he bent at the knee, pushing it up her torso, nodding to himself that it opened her up enough for what he would do. He reached to grab the lube on the mattress.

Flicking the cap open, he poured a generous amount in his palm, stroking it onto his dick and putting more on his fingers.

“You let me know if it’s too much,” he said. “Okay, Cielito?” He pressed one finger into her tight hole, making her keen.

“Yes, Javi—more.”

Her words had a sharp spike of arousal cutting through him. She was relaxed, him easily pushing in another digit.

“Yes,” she gasped, her hand pressing to his chest and squeezing his pec. “More, Javi—give me more.”

“Yeah, baby?” His third finger went in with hardly any resistance. “You like my fingers inside you?”

“Yes,” she moaned as he started pumping them in and out, spreading them inside to stretch her open.

“Think you’re ready for my dick?” Excitement was bubbling in his chest, his cock so fucking hard it was almost painful, ready to go at her word.

“Give it to me,” she replied. “I want it, Javi.”

At this moment, and every other they shared together, he was her devotee and would worship her like she deserved, and now she was gifting him with herself, Javier intimately aware of just how lucky he was to be given this opportunity.

He’d been waiting for this, and he was going to make it so fucking good for her.

The first time he put his dick in someone’s ass, he was a teenager, and he’d grown since then, no longer fumbling with the condom, knowing there needed to be a lot of lube and that he had to loosen up his partner with his fingers to make it enjoyable for the both of them—mistakes were made when he was younger, and now he was older and wiser, and knew how to make it good for everyone involved.

Another reason he was chomping at the bit to do this was she was letting him fuck her bare, which was something he’d never done before, and he was dying to know what it’d feel like.

His hips turned toward her, holding himself on one arm, his other hand stroking his cock, steadily leaking precum, getting closer to press the tip to her asshole. He started pushing in, his mouth falling open, making his insides burn with want at the tight squeeze. Getting halfway in, he had to pause and take a deep breath to calm down, already so worked up, he was genuinely worried he’d come.

She was mewling, making noises that were going straight to his dick when he finally bottomed out, lying down on his side next to her, putting one arm beneath her neck, the second hooking under her knee to keep her leg up, resting his palm on her breast.

Her tight ring of muscle was constricting around the base of his cock so tightly it almost hurt, Javier needing a second—she turned her head toward him, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded, her forehead glistening in sweat looking so beautifully fucked out of her mind, it had him leaning forward to kiss her, the familiar press of her lips grounding him, getting him to the point he could pull almost all the way out and push back in.

His groans came unbidden as he set up a slow pace to get her used to him, surprised when her body tensed up not even a minute later, and she came with a loud moan into his mouth, her ass squeezing him like a vise.

He broke the kiss, his heart racing, panting breaths. “Fuck, already? Do you want me to keep going?” he asked.

Her eyes were closed. “Yes,” she answered roughly. “Go until you come.”

“Okay, baby,” he replied, her relaxing enough that he could start moving again, his mouth finding hers once more, sharing breaths as he worked in and out of her faster than before.

His stomach was knotting up in pleasure with every push and pull of his hips, her leg shaking in his hold, her making sounds that almost sounded inhuman, clearly losing herself to how good she was feeling—he wasn’t much better, their kissing messy, mashing their mouths together, him completely wrecked out of his mind.

She was just so warm and tight, it lulling him to his end—fucking into her over and over again, grunting in exertion.

“Fuck!” she cried, as she seized up and shuddered, Javier feeling as she came again, his mouth leaving hers to grit his teeth, trying to stave off his own orgasm by holding entirely still inside her.

“Fuck, Cielito.” He kissed her shoulder. His forehead was wet with sweat, feeling a drop drip down his cheek while he caught his breath. “You’re gonna make me come, baby, if you keep doing that.”

She looked utterly blissed out, blinking her eyes open in a way that made it seem like they wanted to stay closed, only half-focusing on him.

Her hand came up to pat his cheek, her words slurring when she spoke. “You’re gonna make me pass out if you keep doing that.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Nope.” She poked his nose, making him smile at her adorableness. “We’re just gonna see what happens, and if I pass out, I pass out—won’t be the first time or the last.”

“You think one more will do you in?”

“I know one more will knock me the fuck out.”

He was so fucking close, starting to rock in and out of her, knowing that if she came again, he’d go with her—an idea came to him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Oh, boy, what are you planning?” She sounded drunk. “You only ask that when you’re gonna do something exceptionally good.”

He smiled. “I am.”

“Bring it on, babe.”

Kissing her, he started moving faster, his thick cock slickly sliding in her depths, her moaning again, the muscles in his belly winding tighter and tighter.

The clean hand holding up her leg went to between her thighs, pushing one, then two fingers into her come-filled cunt, crooking them to rub against that one spot that drove her wild, fucking his digits into it over and over again.

Hedonistic sounds filled the air—she was making noises he’d never heard before that bordered on animalistic, him grunting, his fingers squelching in her pussy, while his cock wetly pounded into her ass—all of it spurring him on to his own release.

Her cunt had started to flutter, and he knew she was close.

“Come on, Cielito,” he said through his bared teeth. “One more. I know you’re close; take me with you, baby.”

Soon her back was arching, clenching down hard on his fingers and cock, a guttural groan vibrating out of his chest at her pussy gushing around his digits, soaking the towel beneath her—it sent him with her, his balls tightening up as he pushed into her one last time, his dick pulsing, coming with a ragged moan, his body awash in pleasure as he filled her ass.

He was wrung out, every muscle in his body relaxing, his head sinking into the pillow, his eyes feeling heavy, and thinking he might fall asleep. Javier removed his hand from her cunt, pulling out of her and putting her leg down so she’d be more comfortable, his breaths and heartbeat starting to slow, their bodies shining in the lights of the room from sweat.

His eyes closed, and moments later, he was frowning that she wasn’t playing with his hair like usual.

A soft snore sounded, opening one of his eyes to find hers closed with her mouth open.

Oh, he fucked her unconscious.

She hadn’t been exaggerating that one more would make her pass out.

He didn’t want her sleeping with the mess he made between her legs, so he moved to get off the bed without another thought, not caring he was tired.

He blew out all of the candles on his way to the en suite, cleaning himself up before taking care of his needs and washing his hands when he was finished. Returning to the bedroom, he had a warm wet washcloth that he used to gently wipe her down, and she was still knocked out cold, not even stirring; she just kept snoring.

The real challenge was getting her under the blankets. He feared she’d be cold and eventually succeeded in tucking her in on her side of the bed, Javier a bit sweaty from the effort and feeling really good about himself that she remained asleep—he mentally patted himself on the back for fucking her so good.

Yawning, he put the dirtied towel and washcloth into the hamper, then turned off the bedside lamp, crawling into bed with her. He scooted to cuddle up next to her, his arm going over her middle, breathing in her scent as he dozed off with a little smile.

Where were you?

What year was it?

All you knew for sure was you were burning up, a weight halfway on top of you that was hot; realizing it was a person when you heard a snore—their scent finally processed in your brain, and you realized it was your boyfriend.

You were in your shared bed with Javier Peña.

Your voice was gravelly when you tried to speak. “Javi?”

His body lightly jolted, and you knew he’d awoken.

“Hmmm?” he hummed, nuzzling his nose against your ear.

“Who’s president?”

His voice was raspier. “What?”

“Who’s president?”

“Bill Clinton? What’s wrong, amor (love)?”

“I apparently passed out so hard I forgot where and when I was.”

His breath tickled your ear when he huffed out amusedly. “You thought I fucked you into a coma?” he asked.

“Oh my fucking god—” You sat up as best you could, Javi making a sad sound that you moved. “—you fucked me unconscious!”

The room was softly glowing by the sun coming through the gaps in the blue linen curtains, Javi sitting up, too, the blankets pooling at his bare waist.

“Yeah?” he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eye. “You said one more would take you out, and you were right—out like a goddamn light.”

“Javier, did you… Am I recalling correctly, did you make me squirt?”

“Yes, I fucking did.” He sounded beyond proud of himself.

The orgasm had been unlike any you’ve ever had before, so intense it was no wonder you blacked out.

“With how easily you were coming,” he continued, “I was pretty fucking sure I could do it, and I did.” He leaned over, giving you a loud, smacking kiss on your cheek.

You smiled, pushing on his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re just real fucking proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

He was smirking. “I mean five orgasms in what, less than two hours? I think I did pretty fucking good.”

Your hand went across your body to cup his cheek. “Yeah, baby, you did really fucking good,” you replied, pulling him in for a kiss, feeling him smiling into it.

“Did you like it?” he asked against your lips.

Breaking apart, you smiled. “Um, yeah, I think the orgasms are confirmation I was really into it.”

“You’d, uh, wanna do it again?”

Pushing his bangs out of his face, you answered, “Absolutely. It’s just something we have to plan for, but I’m down—I’m really curious what it would be like if you gave me the Javi special.”

His eyebrows creased. “The Javi special…? What’s that?”

“When you rail me from behind—like, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re really fucking good at it. I mean, you’re good at all the positions. It’s just with back shots you get, I don’t know, feral? You let loose and just go for it, and it’s always a good fucking time. So, I’m just imagining the absolute pounding you’d give my ass, and I won’t lie, the thought makes my pussy throb.”

His hand cradled your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Yeah? You want me to fuck your ass hard?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “Very much.”

Leaning in, he hovered his lips over yours, whispering, “Next time, I’ll give it to you any way you want—would you like that, baby?”

Arousal was starting to thread in your belly.

“Yes, I’d like that a lot,” you answered just as quietly.

“Good.” He nudged your nose with his. “Let’s go shower, then I’m gonna make you dinner—some steak has been marinating since I got home. I’m making you mi mamá’s fajitas.”

“Keep talking dirty to me—what did you marinate it in?”

He smiled, pecking your lips. “Cumin.” Another kiss. “Chile powder.” A quick peck. “Salt.” A kiss. “Lime juice.” A peck. “Lime zest.” His lips on yours again. “Olive oil.” He kissed you. “Garlic—“

“How much garlic?” You interrupted.

He chuckled. “Her recipe said two minced cloves, but you taught me to measure garlic with my heart, so I did three.” He kissed you again.

“God, that’s so sexy,” you murmured against his lips.

He pulled back. “I don’t know how the fuck to pronounce the last ingredient—wor-ces-ter-shire, wer-ches-ter—“

“Worcestershire.” You sounded it out. “Woos-te-sher.”

He made a face that made you giggle. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why are there so many extra fucking letters?”

“The British named it, babe.” You stroked your fingers through his hair, your stomach growling. “Fuck, I’m starving.”

“Get up. We’ll shower, then I’ll feed you.”

“I love you—you’re perfect.”

Tenderly he kissed you. “You’re the perfect one,” he said into your lips. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Oh!” You broke away from him. “Do you think we’re vanilla?”

His face scrunched. “What?”

“Like, sex, are we vanilla? Until tonight you’ve only stuck your dick in my mouth and pussy. We’d never fucking fathom going to one of those wild orgies Robyn likes to go to—“

“Fuck, no,” he cut in. “I’m not fucking possessive, but I sure as fuck am not sharing you.”

“That’s what I told her! Also, same, respectfully, you’re mine, and I’m yours, and there will be no one else—I don’t want anyone else.”

“That’s fucking right.” He gave you a quick kiss. “Did she call us vanilla?”

“Yeah, and like, I’m really thinking we might be…”

“What? ‘Cause you’re not pouring hot wax on my balls, or we don’t swing or whatever the fuck—I fucked your ass tonight and made you squirt; vanilla people don’t do that shit. They also don’t fuck outside of their home, so no, we’re not fucking vanilla.”

“Exactly! We have too much risky place sex.”

He nodded. “Fucked you in a house full of people yesterday.”

“Yes, you did,” you replied, cupping his cheeks. “And we get off on pretending you’re knocking me up—which reminds me, that was really hot all the stuff you said before you came the first time. If I hadn’t come so hard, you definitely would’ve gotten me again.”

He crookedly smiled, seeing the devotion in his eyes. “I can’t fucking wait to marry you—we’re perfect for each other.”

You grinned. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m literally counting down the days to our anniversary. I already have next year's calendar and the day marked.”

His face lit up, his dimple showing. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I’m counting down the days, too, and I’ll need to see if you can take some time off around that date...”

“Oh my god, you’re taking me on a trip!” you exclaimed excitedly. “Where are you taking me? Wait, let me guess—obviously a beach.”

He frowned. “Why would it obviously be a beach?”

“Because you’re insanely romantic and know how much I love the beach and ocean, so that’d be where you’d do it. I don’t think you’d take me to Corpus Christi or anywhere on the Texas coast. I’d think maybe Florida—Miami since Steve and Connie are there, but we’re visiting them in December, and with their baby, we wouldn’t want to impose again so soon after. Oh! You brought up my passport a couple of weeks ago, so that eliminates California, and the US in general, which leaves an island!”

He let out a long, defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Call me Detective Peña…” he grumbled. “You’re apparently Mrs. Detective Peña…”

“Actually, it’s future, Mrs. Detective Peña, because you insist on making us wait.”

“Yeah, I am,” he sighed. Suddenly he was perking up, “At least you won’t be able to guess the fucking island or hell, maybe I might take you to Mexico.”

“Nah.” You swatted away his suggestion. “You wouldn’t take me to Mexico—you’re too fucking stressed about the cartels and would be worried the entire time. You’re definitely taking me to an island.”

His eyes narrowed. “Okay, future Mrs. Detective Peña, I’ve had enough of you figuring out my plans. Get your ass out of bed—we’re showering, and then I’m making you a delicious fucking dinner because I love you so goddamn much, even though I’m a little annoyed with you right now.”

“That’s how I feel when you do it to me!” you laughed. “It’s annoying as fuck.”

“I see that.” He pouted. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me so I’ll stop being annoyed with you—I don’t like it.”

“Oh, my sweet future husband,” you cooed, doing as he asked, pushing your fingers in his hair and kissing him.

“Call me that again.” His muffled voice said.

“My sweet future husband—I love you.”

His lips smiled against yours. “I love when you call me that, and I love you, too, my perfect future wife.”

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