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eddieschains · 10 months

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Dream Come True

Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader

credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.

Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.

He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.

He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.

In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.

You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.

“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.

You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.

You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.

“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.

“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.

Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.

“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.

“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.

“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.

This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.

You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”

“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”

“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.

“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”

“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”

“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.

You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”

Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.

You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.

“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”

“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.

“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.

He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.

You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.

“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”

You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”

“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.

He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.

The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.

“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.

He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.

You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.

“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.

“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.

“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”

“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.

He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.

You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.

“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.

He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.

You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.

“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.

You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”

You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”

“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.

“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”

All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.

Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.

He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.

“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.

“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”

He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.

You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.

“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.

“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.

“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”

You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”

You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”

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

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pix3lplays · 3 months

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@sailorstar9 who hit me with “ex-husband Aventurine trying to woo you back from Ratio” because yes

And @fire-lizard-ro because they put up with me talking about this all the time lol-

Cw! Ex-husband Aventurine, you have kids with him, I’m thinking two, you’re divorced for a reason, Aventurine is petty and wants you back, reader is with Ratio now, also neither of these men are great partners so…toxic family environments and such, sharing a bed

-Ex-husband Aventurine stuff because ugh I’m obsessed-

Does Veritas Ratio treat you much better than Aventurine did? Not really, but he was definitely preferable to your ex.

At least Veritas didn’t have a chronic gambling problem or ignores the kids or spends long nights away from home doing who KNOWS what.

At first Aventurine acts like he doesn’t care at all that you’ve finally had enough and had to divorce him. Your loss in his eyes. He’ll live without you.

But if it doesn’t bother him that much you do wonder why he goes to such lengths to show off his new partners to you. And it always seems to be someone new each month. Unsurprisingly. Makes sense that you were the only person who could put up with him long enough to marry him.

But when he finds out you’ve found a new boyfriend…and it’s VERITAS RATIO?? The jealousy is THERE, and honestly you can see it written all over Aventurine, regardless of how he acts around you.

So now you’re living at Veritas Ratio’s nice place, with your kids from your marriage to Aventurine. You like Veritas. They’re not his kids, but he takes an interest in their education and helping them be the best versions of themselves. He helps them with their homework, without just giving them the answers…yeah he’s not affectionate with your kids, they’re not his, but he doesn’t ignore them like Aventurine used to.

It’s ALWAYS awkward when Aventurine stops by to pick up or see his kids. He always brings presents, always does what he can to make it look like he’s suddenly an amazing and attentive dad, but you know he’s only doing it to try and impress and win you back.

Without shame too-he flirts with you RIGHT in front of Veritas. But Veritas has heard your stories about Aventurine. He’s not worried about you going back to him.

Veritas will just listen to the flirting, maybe step in with a little, “isn’t it about time you leave?” if Aventurine is going too far.

The tension between your ex and your boyfriend is INTENSE.

And by that I mean Aventurine feels very threatened by Veritas, and Veritas doesn’t feel threatened by Aventurine at all. It’s kind of like a one sided rivalry.

Also Aventurine absolutely does that thing where he conveniently leaves his sunglasses at your place so he has an excuse to come back, but you’ve learned to foil him by letting Veritas give him the sunglasses back at the door-just imagine how disappointed Aventurine is when it’s Veritas answering the door instead of you haha…

He calls you in the evening under the guise of “oh don’t you want to say goodnight to the kids?” but he ALWAYS tries to keep you on the phone after that. Just hang up on him. If it was up to Veritas you would just block his number but he understands that’s not practical.

Aventurine would try to use the kids to win you back but to be honest?? They don’t miss him that much. Honestly they prefer Veritas as their new ‘dad’. (Plus they’re gonna wish Veritas was actually their dad when they start getting bullied for being part Sigonian. Just sayin-)

Aventurine is jealous jealous JEALOUS he hates the thought of Veritas even touching you let alone the fact that you share a bed with that man…it drives him CRAZY. He’s not married to you he has No claim over you so he has no business being so jealous but he is anyways…

Eventually he’s not even subtle about how badly he wants you back. Just blatantly inviting you to dinner or over to wherever the heck he’s staying at the moment or to the casino to help you de-stress from all that time spent around Ratio-surely being around Ratio THAT much isn’t good for your health~

Of course you’re not falling for that. You’re not letting Aventurine back into your life more than you have to.

You really don’t want Veritas to feel like he has to get involved, but he has his pride. He can only handle Aventurine blatantly flirting with his partner for so long.

So far you’ve avoided a confrontation but Aventurine needs to start treading lightly if he doesn’t want a Codex to his face haha…

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Dr Ratio #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader #Hsr Dr Ratio x reader #Dr Ratio x reader #Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Dr Ratio x reader

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harocat · 9 months

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Why People (Especially Gay People) Should Watch Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Thirty plus year old former greatest martial artist in the world, Li Lianhua, travels around in a poor man's version of Howl's Moving Castle dispensing sometimes quack, sometimes seems to be pretty accurate medical care to people throughout the land for a quick buck. He is dying a potentially preventable death because he was poisoned ten years ago and refused to seek treatment from his martial arts sect because he felt like he let them down (a lot of them died, and they think he died too). Hopefully he doesn't die for real at the end. He's been stripped of 90% of his martial arts powers, so he basically is just some guy. He does not GAF about almost anything. He likes to cook. He's smarter than everyone. He's our hero.

He has a cute dog by the way. Its name is Fox Spirit, but it is very much a dog.

Along the way he meets Fang Duobing, an annoying, oblivious to class consciousness (but still lovable) rich kid who makes it his mission to travel together with Li Lianhua so they can solve crime. He has huge puppy energy. He wants to be an official detective, and he needs LLH to help him out. He has a serious case of heart eyes for his shifu, and he shows zero interest in any woman ever. He believes, due to a previous encounter, that he's destined to be Li Xiangyi's student in martial arts. Oh and Li Xianygi is Li Lianhua's true identity, so he's kind of like, FDB's shifu twice over. He has no idea that LLH is actually the swordsman of legend.... yet.

Along the way they solve murder mysteries and also get involved in tomb raiding adventures complete with Indiana Jones style booby traps, backstabbing, and weird, creepy kids.

By the way, LLH's archrival from a decade ago, before he left the martial arts world, was Di Feisheng. He leads up an alliance that LLH's was pitted against, and one that was viewed as a scourge in the martial arts world.

LLH's last battle before his 'death' was with DFS, so the martial world believes DFS killed him, as does DFS. Di Feisheng finds him again, and is super DTF (fuck, or fight? actually both), but when he finds out that LLH lost his martial arts powers, he makes it his mission to restore them so they can have the final showdown they deserve.

The fight scenes rule.

Were they friends in the past before they became rivals? We don't know yet. All we know is that they have extreme divorced energy, and DFS wants nothing more than to get remarried. He's gay. He's so gay. He's legitimately confused when he finds out that LLH has an ex girlfriend. He's seriously like 'I NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D BE INTERESTED IN WOMEN.'

You bet your ass LLH is wearing a wedding dress here.

So all three of them travel together to solve murders, which they do, with aplomb. The whole time DFS pretends he doesn't care while making moon eyes at LLH and making sure no harm ever comes to him. Fang Duobing is confused and probably jealous.

Yeah he really did pledge to marry Li Lianhua in like, episode two.

He also, at that point, has NO idea the true identity of either of them.

Right now DFS is no longer traveling with them, but I believe he'll be back to them soon (he's still plenty involved in the story and present), and the three will continue their shenanigans. And anyway, he's still annoying LLH despite them not traveling together (to be fair, pretty much everyone annoys LLH). There's also sect drama! Secret alliances! Completely wack murder mysteries! And always with a side-dish of heavy homo. They're going to be the best found family.

There's eighteen episodes of forty out right now, and it's streaming on IQIYI or wherever you choose to pirate your Chinese Dramas. It's EXTREMELY entertaining every single episode; funny, addictive, and yeah, pretty gay.

#mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #fan duobing #li lianhua

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fatecantstopme · 11 months

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The Connection

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x reader

Summary: Elliot Stabler is your best friend and has been for years. When he and Kathy get divorced, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to be with him...despite your current relationship status. Elliot's jealously will either bring you together or tear you apart.

Warnings: Divorce. Panic Attack. Gun shot wounds. Mentions of death. Hospital. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (P in V)

It had been eight months since Elliot and Kathy had divorced. Eight months Elliot had spent alone, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Eight months of trying to find the words to say and eight months of failing to.

The first couple months after Elliot's divorce, you thought about telling him how you felt--how you'd felt for years. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it every single day since the moment he told you they were getting divorced.

Your fear of losing your best friend was what stopped you from ever admitting your feelings. You couldn't bear to face that possibility. You’d rather have him as just your friend than nothing at all.

But everything changed for you when you met a handsome stranger just outside your favorite coffee shop on your way to work. Tony, as you would later learn, was an emergency room doctor at Mercy Hospital. He had just recently moved to the city after finishing his residency at a hospital in Chicago.

Before long, you and Tony were inseparable. He was kind, charming, and funny--and he treated you better than any man ever had. You were content, happy even, despite the little voice in the back of your mind. The voice that reminded you of how much you loved Elliot--how much you needed him.

That voice was always strongest when you were together, which meant you started to pull away from him--spending more time with Tony and less with Elliot. Even though the two of you worked together and saw each other nearly every day, you tended to stay in your office and avoid too much actual contact with him if you could.

You felt badly about the distance you'd created, but you didn't know what else to do. If Elliot felt the same way, he'd never even hinted at it, let alone expressed it, so you felt the point was moot. Why put yourself through the pain of rejection if you didn't have to? Plus, you had Tony now. Focusing on your relationship with him had to be your priority.

Elliot was no fool. He watched you pull away from him after you met Tony—and he thought he knew why. He couldn’t stand to hear you talk about him—didn’t want to imagine you with someone else. Someone other than him. He had no right to feel that way and he knew it, but there are just some things you can’t control.

You’d been with Tony for 6 months when Elliot finally reached his breaking point. The two of you, along with Olivia, Munch, and Fin, were in the squad room after a particularly stressful case. You were chatting with Olivia about her latest beau and she inquired about Tony. You told her you had been canceling dinner plans with him for the last week due to your case load, but you were planning on seeing him tonight.

“He’s perfect for you, (Y/N),” Olivia said with a smile. “You always light up when you talk about him.”

You offered her a small smile in return. “He really is amazing.” You leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. “I think he’s been shopping for rings.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “How long’s it been?”

“6 months,” you answered.

“Damn. That’s fast.” She shrugged, “but if you know, then you know.”

You opened your mouth to tell her that you didn’t know, but Elliot beat you to it. “Jesus, (Y/L/N), I didn’t expect you to just marry the first guy who jumped in your bed. When did you turn into such a needy slut?”

Your face paled and you stepped back as if he’d slapped you. He knew you well enough to know exactly what to say to hurt you and he didn’t pull his punches.

“What the hell, Elliot?” Olivia snapped.

Elliot avoided making eye contact with you—immediately regretting his outburst. He wasn’t one to apologize, and to be honest, he wasn’t very good at it, but he felt the strong urge to beg for your forgiveness.

“I shouldn’t've—“ he started.

“Leave it,” you cut in. “Whatever it is you were about to say, just don’t.” You grabbed your coat and your bag before turning back in his direction. “I’m going to dinner with a man who treats me with respect and genuinely cares about me. I would think you of all people would be happy for me.” You paused. “I know you're tired and stressed, but you don't have the right to take it out on me. I'm your friend, Elliot, although given what you just said to me, I'm not even sure about that."

With that, you walked out the door, never slowing or sparing a glance behind you.

Elliot felt terrible in more ways than one as he watched you leave. He could feel the gazes of his friends, but he couldn’t bear to look at them. “I’m going home,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, maybe you should get some sleep before you insult anyone else,” Fin said none too gently.

In any other situation, Elliot would have clapped back, but the fact that he'd just hurt you like that made him keep his mouth shut. He threw on his coat and stormed out of the precinct before anyone else could speak.

The entire way home, Elliot was fuming. He was mad at himself, mad at Tony, but most of all he was mad at you. Mad that you found someone who fit you so perfectly. Mad that you wanted someone else. Mad that you were happy. God help him--he felt terrible for it--hated himself, even. What kind of person felt this way about their best friend? Wasn't he supposed to be your number one supporter? Your biggest champion?

He was filled with regret as he entered his small apartment. It was mostly empty and completely devoid of personality. He had pictures of his kids, but not much else.

There was, however, one particularly special picture in the living room. He walked over to it and picked up the frame, his heart clenching as he stared at it. It was a picture of you and him on a random Saturday. He'd dragged you to the park for an early morning run, which he knew you hated. You'd gotten your revenge by pushing him into a pond beside the running path.

After you'd stopped laughing, you tried to help him out of the water, but he pulled you in with him, leaving you both soaking wet and laughing hysterically. When you made it back to dry land, you'd dragged him close and snapped a picture of the two of you--muddy, wet, and laughing.

The picture really showcased your personality--light, bubbly, happy, and just a bit goofy. It was his favorite picture and one of his favorite moments with you...it was the moment he realized he loved you. A feeling he'd never expressed, even though he'd felt it long before he and Kathy solidified their divorce.

It was almost two years later and he still hadn't told you how he felt. And now that he was a free man--and had been for a while--you'd found the man of your dreams. He'd managed to blow his chance to be with you and now it was too late.

The picture suddenly became blurry and he sat it back down on the table before wiping his eyes. He wasn't good with emotions and he was thankful no one was there to witness this particular display.

He tried to push all thoughts of you from his mind as he wandered around his kitchen, scrounging up something to eat. He tried not to picture you at dinner with Tony. He tried not to imagine what you would do after dinner. He tried not to think about anything at all...but no matter what he did, you plagued his mind from the moment you'd walked out the door. He decided to go out to a bar and get himself a drink or two. It was Friday after all and he'd had a long week. Why not blow off some steam?

You weren't in the best of moods when you met Tony for dinner that night. Elliot's words echoed in your ears and the feeling of hurt had yet to dissipate. He'd never lashed out at you like that before. Not once. You'd heard him do it to other people, especially when he was angry or frustrated--but he'd never done it to you. You weren't sure what it meant now that he had, but you were certain it wasn't good.

Tony picked up on your mood immediately and he was obviously concerned. He'd asked if you were alright, if you wanted to reschedule...but you'd told him it had just been a long week and not to worry.

"You seem distracted, (Y/N)," Tony commented gently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

You looked up from the food you'd been playing with on your plate and sighed. "Sorry, Tony. I've got a lot on my mind."

He nodded. You could tell he wanted to probe deeper, but he wisely opted to back off. He started to chatter about some new resident at the hospital, complaining about how green the kid was, and your mind began to drift.

You knew you should have been paying attention, but you really couldn't find the energy to--or perhaps desire was the better word. All you could think about was Elliot. When had everything gone so wrong? How did it all become so fucked up? Why did you care so much? He clearly didn't.

A single tear slid down your cheek and dropped onto your plate, surprising you out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized you'd been crying until that moment. You quickly wiped your eyes, hoping Tony wouldn't notice. When you glanced up at him, you knew he'd seen and you could tell he wanted to know what the hell was going on.

The problem was, you weren't even sure what was happening. Why did you feel so damn sad? As you stared at Tony, you realized there was only one person you wanted to talk to about it...and it wasn't the man in front of you. You were hurting and you only wanted the man who'd hurt you. How fucked up was that?

"Seriously, babe, what's going on?" Tony asked gently, concern lacing his voice.

You shook your head. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

"Okay...I wouldn't normally push, but you were literally just crying into your pasta."

"I'm aware, Anthony," you said rather harshly.

He winced slightly and you sighed sadly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap," you said softly.

"It's okay."

There was something about the placating tone of his voice that just set you off. "No it's not! None of this is okay! I'm not okay!"

He was clearly taken aback by the intensity of your outburst and you found yourself feeling incredibly embarrassed...and perhaps a bit annoyed.

"I just--I just wanna go home," you mumbled.

"Okay," he said gently. "Why don't you go wait in the car. I'll pay the bill."

He handed you the keys and you practically ran out of the restaurant. You couldn't explain what you were feeling--it was like you were suffocating, like the very air you were breathing was toxic. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and everything just felt wrong. Your vision started to darken and you felt like you were being crushed...you fell to your knees on the sidewalk, body shaking as you started to hyperventilate.

Moments later, Tony came rushing out and dropped to his knees beside you. You could hear him asking you what was wrong, but you couldn't answer him. You hadn't recognized the signs at first, but somewhere inside you, you knew you were having a panic attack. You couldn't explain why and you certainly couldn't tell him what was happening.

You heard Tony say something about an ambulance, but your brain was too foggy to comprehend what was happening. You'd had panic attacks all your life, but this one felt different--it came on even more suddenly and it was more intense than any attack you'd ever had before. Something about it felt final...deadly.

You heard the sounds of sirens in the distance, and at first you thought they were headed for you, but they never seemed to move any closer. Your vision was almost black, your head was pounding, and you felt as if your body was full of lead--you knew you were moments away from passing out. The last thing you heard was the ringing of a cellphone in close proximity to you. Just as you realized the phone was yours, you succumbed to the blackness of unconsciousness.

A couple blocks away, an ambulance and several police officers were responding to a call for shots fired at a local bar. According to the call, one man was dead, one was critically injured, and four more were wounded.

Witnesses said a man had opened fire inside the bar after an argument had escalated. After the first few shots rang out, another man had gotten up from his seat, pulled out his gun, and identified himself as police. The first gunman pulled the trigger twice, shooting the police officer twice in the chest. As he was falling to the ground, he pulled his own trigger, killing the gunman almost instantly with a shot directly to the heart.

The officer laid on the ground, blood seeping from his wounds, terror gripping his body. His only thought was of his family, and how he would never get to see them again.

He could hear voices all around him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, and he was beginning to feel cold. He knew what that meant, even if he didn't want to admit it.

He heard the scream of sirens followed by the sound of footsteps near him. He heard a man's voice ask a question, but he didn't hear the response.

He heard snippets of what was said, "Gun," "argument," "scared,"...but the one that caught his attention was "Benson." He didn't understand why someone had said his partner's name and he tried to ask, but his voice came out as nothing but incoherent sounds.

The sound of more sirens neared and he began to drift towards sleep or death...he wasn't sure which one. His eyes had closed and his body felt heavy as he took what he feared would be his last few breaths.

"Detective Benson," Olivia answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Detective. This is Officer Bailey."

"Hey, Bailey. You got a case for me?"

"Not exactly, ma'am..." he paused. "It's your partner. Detective Stabler?"

Olivia felt her blood go cold. "What about him?"

"He was involved in an incident at O'Malley's Bar on 5th," Bailey said slowly. "Bar fight turned deadly. Apparently, Detective Stabler shot the gunman."

She inhaled sharply. "Is he alright?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line that told Olivia everything she needed to know. "How bad is it?" she asked softly.

"It's bad, detective. They're taking him to Mercy Hospital. You should probably go there."

Olivia's first thought was of Elliot's kids--she needed to call them when she had more information. She didn't want to scare them if she didn't need to. "Thanks for the call. I'm heading over there now."

She hung up, grabbed her keys and her coat, then ran out the door. She intended to drive with lights and sirens to get there--policy be damned.

When she got to the first floor of her apartment building, it suddenly hit her that she should call you. Even after his comments earlier that day, Elliot was still your best friend. You'd want to know if something happened to him and you'd be beyond pissed if Olivia didn't tell you right away.

She called your phone several times as she drove to the hospital, each time leaving a voicemail begging you to call her back.

She was thankful she lived so close to the hospital and she made it there in record time. She pulled up to the emergency room entrance just as an ambulance pulled up to the front doors.

Olivia quickly got out of her car and jogged towards the entrance, but she stepped aside as EMS rushed someone through the doors. Olivia's face paled as she got a good look at the person on the gurney--you.

She ran in after them, practically running right into Tony as he came in. Olivia recognized him immediately. "What the hell happened?" she asked in a rush.

Tony looked over at her in surprise, as if he was just realizing she was there. A look of recognition crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced with confusion. "She, uh--I don't know. She collapsed outside the restaurant." He eyed her carefully. "What are you doing here?"

"Elliot was involved in some sort of altercation at a bar. They brought him here, so I came down to figure out what the hell happened."

Tony looked shocked. "When?"

"About 15 minutes ago."

Tony's face paled. "That's right about when (Y/N) collapsed..."

Olivia's eyes widened. "What are the odds of that?"

He shook his head. "I'm gonna say extremely unlikely."

She sighed and shook her head too. "I need to check in with the front desk and see what they know."

The ladies at the front desk informed Olivia that Elliot had received two GSWs to the chest and was currently in surgery. They promised to keep her updated and let her know if anything changed. She also asked them to keep her updated on your status as well. It didn't seem likely that the two incidents were connected, but she had to admit it was really damn weird.

Olivia joined Tony in the waiting room and made several phone calls to Elliot's kids and the rest of her team. She wanted to make sure they all knew what was going on. The kids were out of town with Kathy, but Fin, Munch, and Cragen all promised to come down to the hospital immediately.

When they arrived, the five of them sat in the waiting room in silence. None of them knew what to say.

About an hour after the others had arrived, a nurse came into the waiting room. "(Y/L/N)?" she called.

Tony looked up at the sound of your name. He jumped out of his seat and walked towards the nurse. "Is she okay?" he asked urgently.

The nurse nodded. "She's awake and asking for someone named Elliot."

Olivia made eye contact with Fin, who was sitting across from her. He shared her knowing glance before they both looked in Tony's direction.

"Oh, um...I'm her boyfriend. Would I be able to see her?"

The nurse nodded again. "Sure, Dr. Cooper. She's in 103."

Tony immediately headed towards your room without waiting for the nurse to follow. Olivia got up and walked over to the nurse before she could walk away. "Excuse me," she called.

The nurse turned back to her. "Yes?"

"You said (Y/N) was asking for Elliot?"

She nodded. "You know him?"

Olivia nodded her affirmation. "He's my partner. He was brought in about 2 hours ago for GSWs to the chest. I believe he's in surgery right now."

The nurse paled. "Dr. (Y/L/N) didn't have any noticeable injuries. Was she there when he was shot?"

Olivia shook her head. "She was a couple blocks away. We're not sure what happened to her."

"The doctor said it was probably an intense panic attack, based on the symptoms Dr. (Y/L/N) described."

Olivia was a little surprised, but she didn't say it. "Thank you."

The nurse nodded and headed back into the patient area. Olivia returned to her coworkers and shared the information she'd just received.

"A panic attack?" Fin asked in surprise.

Olivia nodded. "That's what the nurse said."

"At the same time Elliot got shot?" Munch asked.

"Roughly, yeah." Olivia confirmed.

"What the hell are the odds of that?" Cragen asked.

"I'd say a million to one," Munch answered.

"At least she's gonna be okay," Fin said softly.

They all nodded their agreement. No one wanted to mention their fears about Elliot's survival...they just had to hope he would pull through.

You'd been surprised to find yourself in the hospital when you awoke, but you quickly realized the intensity of your panic attack must have literally knocked you out. Tony wouldn't have known what was happening, so of course he called 911.

You checked your phone as soon as you woke up and discovered you had several missed calls and messages from Olivia. You listened to the most recent one and felt the blood drain from your face.

"(Y/N), please answer your phone! I'm getting worried. Elliot's been in some sort of altercation and it's bad. I don't know what's going on, but I'm on my way to the hospital. Please call me." Olivia's voice sounded panicked, so you knew it must be really bad.

You pressed your call button and the moment a nurse walked into the room you asked for Elliot. The nurse told you she didn't know who that was, but she said she'd go out to the waiting room to see.

Much to your dismay, the person who walked into your room 5 minutes later, was Tony. You felt terrible for feeling that way, but not seeing Elliot standing in your doorway confirmed your worst fears.

"Elliot?" you whispered, the meaning of your question very clear.

Tony sighed as he came to the side of your bed. "He's in surgery," he said gently.

Your skin was already pale, but you turned white as a sheet upon hearing those words. "What happened?"

"He was shot twice in the chest. Some guy shot several people during a bar fight and Elliot stopped him."

"How bad is it?" You didn't really wanna ask, but Tony was an ER doctor after all...he would know and he wouldn't lie to you.

His expression was sad. "It's bad, (Y/N/N)," he said honestly. "It's really bad."

You couldn't stop the tears from sliding down your cheeks. You didn't want to ask more questions--didn't really wanna know--but you needed to. "What are the odds?"

Tony shook his head, not wanting to upset you further.

"Anthony, please," you begged.

He sighed. "He might not make it through surgery, but even if he does, the chances of survival are slim. He lost a lot of blood and there was internal damage from the bullets."

You closed your eyes and took a shuddering breath. "Where's Olivia?" you whispered.

"She's out in the waiting room. Want me to get her?"

"Please," you said so softly he barely heard you.

A few minutes later, Tony reappeared in the doorway with a distraught Olivia. She pushed past him and into your room, quickly crossing the short distance to your bedside. Tony backed out of the room and out of sight.

"How are you feeling?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," you answered. "I don't understand how this could happen."

Olivia knew what you meant, but she didn't have a good answer for you. Elliot didn't frequent bars alone, nor was he the type to get into any kind of bar fight. But honestly, what really bothered her was the timing of your panic attack. "Why did you have a panic attack?"

You looked at her in surprise. "I--I don't really know. It just came on suddenly."

"Right when Elliot was in trouble? That just seems...odd."

"I can't explain it. I was outside waiting for Tony to pay the bill and it hit me. I was on my knees, unable to breathe, in mere seconds."

"You know I'm not a superstitious person and I don't really believe in any of that mystical stuff, but if I did...I'd say you felt something happen to him and that's why you had the attack."

You wouldn't classify yourself as some kind of mystic either, but you were a psychologist. You'd spent years studying the human mind, and nothing about it made complete sense. The brain is the most complex part of human anatomy...so complex, in fact, that we may never fully understand it.

"I suppose it's possible," you began slowly. "We know there are examples of minds being connected in inexplicable ways, the best example being that of twins. Twins claim to be able to sense each other and understand each other in ways the rest of us could never really understand. Twins a 1,000 miles away from each other claim to know the exact moment their twin died. Some people claim to have similar bonds with siblings and significant others. So while it seems unlikely, it is entirely plausible that such a connection could be formed between two people."

"If anyone was to have a connection like that, it would be you and Elliot."

"What makes you say that?"

Olivia gave you a knowing look, one you'd seen on her face countless times before...just never directed at you. "I might not be a profiler, (Y/N), but I'm not an idiot. It doesn't take a good detective to know that the bond between you and Elliot is different--special."

"He's my best friend," you conceded, although you knew that was not what she meant.

"This goes way beyond friendship," she said simply.

She didn't elaborate and you didn't need her to. Some part of you knew she was right, or at least suspected it. But if her idea of this connection was accurate--and your interpretation of the meaning was accurate--then didn't that imply your feelings were not one-sided?

You weren't sure if you were ready to admit it, but this revelation changed everything for you. In that moment, you decided if Elliot survived this, you would tell him how you feel...consequences be damned.

**********

Two weeks went by without much change or improvement in Elliot's status. He'd made it through surgery, but he'd been in a coma ever since. The doctors weren't quite sure why...there didn't appear to be a medical cause.

You visited Elliot every single day, sometimes spending hours at his bedside talking to him. If there was even the slightest chance he could hear you, it was worth it.

That first night in the hospital had changed a lot of things for you, and it made you realize you couldn't keep pretending anymore. You broke things off with Tony, unable to lead him on any longer. He was surprisingly understanding about it, despite the obvious hurt.

The rest of the squad would stop by periodically to check in on Elliot and to see how you were holding up. You'd come back to work right away, but you'd made yourself as scarce as possible. You weren't ready to face the possibility that Elliot may never wake up, even if your coworkers were.

It was week three of Elliot's coma when you were called to testify in court for an SVU case. It wasn't a case you wanted to relive, but you'd played a vital roll in identifying the offender and your testimony was crucial.

You'd testified for a day and a half before you were finally released from court. Having done your duty, you pulled out your phone to check your messages. You were surprised to see several missed calls--all from Olivia.

Your heart clenched in your chest and terror froze your body in place. You weren't sure you wanted to listen to the message she'd left...you wanted to live in this moment just a while longer. In this moment, in this world, Elliot was still alive, but if you listened to that voicemail, that world might shatter.

You forced your body to move, making your way to a more secluded part of the courthouse before taking a deep breath and pressing 'play' on the voicemail.

"I know you're in court, but I wanted to make sure you heard this as soon as you finished up. We're all at the hospital--Elliot's awake!"

You didn't listen to the rest of the message--nothing else mattered. All you heard was "Elliot's awake!" and you were already running towards the exit. You ran at top speed all the way out of the building and to your car, pushing past anyone who got in the way.

When you reached your car, you jumped in the driver's seat and took off, ignoring almost every single traffic law in existence. All that mattered was getting to the hospital--all that mattered was Elliot.

After parking your car, you raced into the hospital and into the elevator, angrily pressing the button for the 3rd floor repeatedly. When the doors finally opened to the ICU, you sprinted from the elevator and down the hall towards Elliot's room.

You were breathless when you reached the doorway of his room, but you didn't care. Olivia, Munch, Fin, and Cragen all stood around the bed and they turned towards the door when they heard you.

You barely noticed any of them. Your focus was entirely on the man sitting up in bed, his bright blue eyes locked on yours. "Elliot," you breathed softly.

Every single person in that room felt the air shift when you entered. It didn't take a trained investigator to recognize the tension in the air. You didn't move from the doorway and your gaze didn't leave Elliot's face.

"Why don't we give you guys a moment alone?" Cragen suggested as he started to back out towards the door.

The other three followed their captain, Olivia shutting the door as she exited the room.

"Hey," Elliot murmured once the two of you were alone.

"Hi," you said softly, voice catching slightly as your emotions washed over you.

"Come here," he coaxed.

You crossed the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed.

The two of you stared at each other in silence, emotions threatening to overwhelm both of you. It felt like everything inside you bubbled up all at once and you gasped, "I'm sorry."

Elliot spoke his apology at the exact same time. "I'm sorry."

You both let out a breathy laugh, some of the tension easing from your bodies.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Elliot asked.

"I shouldn't have ever questioned our friendship. It was cruel."

He shook his head. "If anyone was cruel, it was me. Frankly, I deserved way worse than what you said. I didn't mean a word of it, (Y/N), not a single word."

"I know--" you began.

"Let me finish," he cut in insistently. You fell silent, allowing him to continue. "I shouldn't have called you a slut. I shouldn't have judged your relationship--it wasn't my place. I was upset and I took it out on you...it wasn't fair and I'm sorry. You deserve better."

"I appreciate that," you said quietly. "But why did you say it? You're never cruel to me...ever."

The pain in your voice nearly broke his heart in two. "I was mad at you," he mumbled. "It's stupid and it doesn't matter 'cause you're with Tony anyway and you're happy and I should be happy toorightbecauseyou'remybestfriend--"

You grabbed his arm to bring his attention back to you and cut off his ramble. "You can breathe now," you teased you lightly.

He chuckled. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I think it's cute when you ramble like that."

He rolled his eyes. "Great. I'm cute."

You grinned. "Very cute," you said in a teasing tone. As you looked at him, your smile slipped and a sad expression slid into place. "I thought I was going to lose you," you whispered.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm harder to get rid of than that."

Tears filled your eyes, despite your attempt to smile. "What happened, Elliot?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"I know the official story, but I wanna hear it from you."

"I needed to blow off some steam, so I went to the bar for a couple drinks. Some guy got into an argument, pulled out a gun, and started shooting...so I shot back."

Your eyes fluttered closed. "You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't."

"But you could have been!" you said loudly. "Why the hell did you go to that bar alone? Why didn't you just stay home? You could have called someone to go with you! You could of--"

"(Y/N)," Elliot cut in gently. "I'm okay."

You realized you'd been rambling and you inhaled deeply to catch your breath. "I was so scared," you whispered. "When I woke up and Olivia told me what had happened...it felt like my world was falling apart. All I wanted was to see you, but you were still in surgery. Even when you finally made it to recovery, they wouldn't let me see you because they wanted to keep me for observation overnight."

"Wait, what? Who wanted to keep you for observation?" he asked, confused.

"The hospital," you answered. "I got here about 5 minutes after you."

"What?" His eyes scanned over your body, checking for wounds or signs of injuries. "Why? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you assured him gently. "It was just a panic attack."

He looked even more confused. "A panic attack?"

"It was intense," you admitted. "I passed out and Tony called 911. I didn't know what happened to you until I woke up in the hospital and listened to my voicemails from Olivia."

"I thought you usually knew when a panic attack was coming on."

"This one was weird. It hit me suddenly and literally brought me to my knees." You paused. "Anyway, I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Elliot admitted. "My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it."

"Do you need pain meds? I can get the nurse--" you turned to call for the nurse, but he grabbed your arm to stop you.

"No, please--don't go."

You turned back to him. "I'm not going anywhere, but if you're in pain, the nurse can help."

He shook his head. "The meds make me sleep. I don't wanna sleep."

"Alright, but if the pain becomes unbearable, please tell me."

"I will," he promised. "I just want to talk to you for a while longer."

You smiled. "I can't say no to that."

For the next several minutes, you helped Elliot get caught up on everything that had happened in the last three weeks, leaving out a few key things about changes in your life until the end.

"I, uhh--I broke up with Tony," you mumbled quickly.

Elliot's eyes widened and you swore his face lit up before he tried to hide it. "Oh? I'm sorry, (Y/N/N). I know you really liked him."

You shrugged. "He's a good man and he'll make a great husband for someone, just not me."

"So...why'd you break up with him?"

"He deserved to be with someone who loved him the way he loved me and I knew I'd never be able to."

"Why not?" Fuck subtlety, he thought to himself.

You laughed breathily. "Good lord you're full of questions."

"That's not an answer."

You shot him a look of annoyance, but he knew you weren't actually upset. You were clearly trying to decide how to answer his question...and how much information you really wanted to give him.

"You can't love more than one person at the same time. At least not fully."

He raised his eyebrows. "Who do you love?"

"Elliot," you groaned softly. "Why does it matter?"

"I want to know." I need to know.

You sighed heavily. "How long have we known each other?"

He was clearly confused by your question, but he answered it anyway. "Eight years?"

You nodded. "And you were married for most of it, right?"

"As far as I'm aware, yes," he said in boorish tone.

"Six years, Elliot. Six whole years of my life," you said softly.

"What do you mean?"

You bit your lip and stared at the blanket covering his chest, unable to look at his face as you answered his question. "That's how long I've loved you," you whispered.

He'd waited two very long years to hear you say those words, but he'd never actually imagined you would ever say them. He was so stunned by your admission that he found himself rendered mute.

The seconds ticked by and you started to feel incredibly foolish and embarrassed. "Please say something," you begged.

He realized he'd been silent for too long and he rushed to say the words that had lived in his heart for so long. "I don't really know when I fell in love with you, (Y/N), but I'll never forget the moment I realized I loved you, and I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor as your eyes shot up to meet his. You'd never dreamed he'd feel the same...at least not until three weeks ago. Perhaps Olivia was right after all--perhaps you really were connected in a deeper way. "El..."

"You don't have to say anything," he whispered.

"I love you," you said simply.

His chest ached from more than just the gun shot wounds. "I love you too."

You let out an awkward chuckle. "So what do we do now?"

"Right now?" he asked. "Well right now, you're going to kiss me because I can't really move."

You laughed warmly before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to his warm lips. The moment your lips connected, it just felt right. Everything about him felt right.

"As much as I'd love to kiss you until one or both of us passes out from lack of oxygen, I think I might need those painkillers instead," he said softly, finally letting the pain creep into his voice.

You nearly smacked him. "How long have you been in this much pain?"

"Doesn't matter. This was more than worth it."

You glared at him, but the glare quickly softened to an affectionate expression of concern. "I'll get the nurse."

You returned moments later with the nurse in tow. She gave Elliot a shot of morphine to dull his pain. It didn't take long for him to drift back off to sleep.

You settled into a chair beside his bed, content to stay beside him for as long as the hospital staff would let you.

**********

Four days later, Elliot was finally released from the hospital. You insisted he come to your place because there was absolutely no way you were going to let him be alone yet. Much to your surprise, he didn't argue, if anything he seemed glad for your insistence.

"At least I don't have to give you a tour," you said with a smile as you held the door open for Elliot.

"I've only been here 100 times," he teased.

You closed the door behind him and watched as he moved slowly towards the couch. You knew he was still in pain, though he likely wouldn't admit it.

"Do you need anything?" you asked tentatively as he sunk down onto the couch with a muffled groan.

"Nah, I'm fine."

You knew better than to argue with him. "How 'bout we order Chinese for an early dinner? I don't really feel like cooking."

"God, yes. That sounds amazing."

"Hospital food that bad?" you teased.

"Worse."

You laughed and went to the kitchen to grab the number for your favorite take out place. You ordered enough food to feed a small army before settling onto the couch beside Elliot.

"Okay, so here's the options: we can watch TV, we can sit in silence and awkwardly stare at the wall, or we can talk."

"I vote for the awkward staring."

You laughed. "TV it is."

You turned the TV on, but nothing seemed particularly interesting. Eventually you settled on some mindless drama.

You pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it across your lap. "Do you need one?"

"I'm good."

A few quiet moments went by before Elliot cleared his throat. You looked over at him, but he didn't say anything. You turned back to face the TV, but he started shifting beside you, as if he was restless.

"El?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

He shook his head. "Not really. It's just--well it's just that you're kinda far away."

You raised an eyebrow as you regarded him. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"Well, I wanna hold you and I don't really give a damn if it hurts me."

You offered him a small smile. "I'll be gentle."

You moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, wincing slightly as he shifted. Once you'd both gotten comfortable, your focus went back to the TV.

About 20 minutes later, the buzzer for the door went off and you jumped up to answer it. You let the delivery guy in the main doors and waited for him to reach your apartment.

"Do you always let the delivery guy in?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah."

"It's not safe, (Y/N)."

A knock at your door alerted you to the presence of your dinner. You opened the door, took the food, and paid before shutting the door behind him.

"I've never had any issues," you commented.

"We know plenty of people who have," Elliot said softly.

You glanced over at him and sighed. "El, I've been living alone for most of my adult life. I'm painfully aware of the dangers of being a single female in this city, and I'm always careful."

He nodded, but he didn't look like he really wanted to let it drop.

You walked back into the living room and started laying out the takeout boxes on the coffee table. "Dinner is served."

He inhaled deeply. "Damn that smells good."

"Thank you. I slaved away in the kitchen for hours to make it for you."

He laughed warmly. You saw the look of pain cross his face, the laughter clearly aggravating his wounds.

"At least take a couple Tylenol," you begged.

He sighed. "Will it make you feel better?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll take a couple."

The two of you had managed to eat a large portion of the food you'd ordered and you'd gotten Elliot to take some pain medication. All in all, you felt very successful.

The two of you were curled up on the couch watching a movie. Your head was in Elliot's lap, a blanket covering your body, and his arm draped across your torso.

At some point, his hand began to play with your hair and gently trace meaningless designs against your skin. The motion relaxed you and you sighed contentedly. Your eyes drifted closed and you knew you should get up go to bed, but you were simply too warm and comfortable to get up.

Next thing you knew, Elliot was gently shaking you awake. "Sweetheart? It's late. You should go to bed."

You let out a little groan. "But I'm so warm."

He chuckled. "You'll be nice and warm in your bed too. Come on," he coaxed.

You grumbled softly as you sat up. You dragged your weary body off the couch and started to walk back towards your bedroom. When you realized Elliot wasn't following you, you turned around. "Coming?"

"Oh, I--uh...I can sleep on the couch, ummm--if you want."

"We're adults, Elliot. We can share a bed."

"Thank god," he said as he slowly made his way towards you. "Your couch isn't comfortable to sleep on."

"Hey! You've never complained before."

"That's because sleeping in your bed was never an option before."

"I suppose you have a point."

He followed you into your room and chuckled softly as you crawled directly into bed, not even bothering to change into your pajamas. He walked to the other side of the bed and stood there for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I, uhh, I normally wear a lot less clothing when I sleep."

"Oh," you mumbled with a blush. "Umm, you can get comfortable. I don't mind."

"I'll keep some stuff on for modesty," he teased lightly. "I just gotta lose the sweatpants or I'm gonna sweat to death in the middle of the night."

You laughed. "We wouldn't want that."

He quickly shed his pants before crawling into the bed beside you. "Shit," he said with a sigh. "You've been holding out on me."

"Huh?"

"This bed is 1,000 times more comfortable than the couch."

You laughed and very lightly smacked his arm. "You're the worst. You're lucky I let you share in this great comfort."

He grinned. "I feel very lucky. I'd even go so far as to say I feel honored."

You blushed. "Oh hush. Go to sleep, you dork. I'll see you in the morning."

You turned off the bedside lamp and settled back into the bed.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Elliot."

**********

For the next couple weeks, Elliot was on desk duty at work, which meant he had much more time to spend with you. On slow days, he would come sit in your office and chat with you for hours until someone (usually Cragen or Olivia) came looking for him.

Even though he was more than capable of living alone again, Elliot was still crashing at your house. You'd insisted at first, but it had become a comfortable routine that neither of you were quite ready to break.

The rest of the squad started to notice the change in your relationship too. Elliot was much more affectionate towards you, both physically and verbally. He'd use terms of endearment as often as possible and he was always within arms' reach of you.

The shift in dynamics really became obvious when you and Elliot continued to arrive together to work in the morning after the doctors had cleared him for duty.

"Okay, I'm tired of dancing around this shit," Fin spoke up when you and Elliot walked in the door together.

"Dancing around what?" Olivia asked.

"That," he responded, pointing at you two.

"What about us?" Elliot asked.

"Are you still living with (Y/N)?"

"Yeah," he answered with a shrug.

"So are you dating?" Fin probed.

Elliot shrugged off his jacket and plopped down in his desk chair. "Yeah."

Three surprised voices started peppering you with questions. "Since when?" "Why didn't you tell us?" "How long has this been going on?"

"Guys!" you yelled as you threw up your hands. You were surprised that Elliot had admitted to the relationship so freely. You hadn't discussed keeping it a secret or anything like that, but you also hadn't discussed if and when you were going to tell everyone. "Can you at least wait until I put my bag down before you verbally assault me?"

The questions and comments continued, but were now aimed at Elliot as you made a beeline to your office to drop off your bag and coat.

Before you could make it back to the squad room, there was a gentle knock on the doorframe. "Got a second?"

You turned around at the sound of Cragen's voice. "Sure," you answered as you leaned back against your desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I may have overheard the commotion in the squad room when you and Elliot got in."

"Oh."

"Were you planning on telling me?"

"Honestly, sir, we hadn't discussed it. We didn't even really discuss our relationship...it just sort of happened."

"Near-death experiences will do that to you."

You nodded. "It was rather eye-opening for both of us, I think."

"Not as much for the rest of us."

"What do you mean?"

Cragen smiled. "It doesn't take a good detective to see how much the two of you care about each other, even long before Elliot got shot."

You blushed. "I tried not to be obvious."

"I make it a point to know my people, (Y/N), and I pay attention."

"I hope our relationship isn't going to be an issue, sir."

He shook his head. "I'm not worried about the two of you one bit. You've always been professional and I don't think admitting you love each other out loud will change that."

"I appreciate that, sir. I know Elliot will too."

Cragen just offered you a simple smile before making his way back towards the squad room. You followed slowly behind him, allowing yourself time to steel yourself for the onslaught of questions.

Much to your surprise, the conversation had shifted to other topics, namely Munch's permanent bachelor status and Olivia's terrible choices in men.

You leaned against Elliot's desk and he looked up to smile at you.

"I see they've moved on."

"I put them in their place," he said with a smirk.

"Do I wanna know what that means?"

"Probably not."

You laughed. "You're probably right."

Elliot's next thought was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He answered it, listened for a few moments, then said "We'll be there in 15," before hanging up. "Liv, we've got a vic over at Bellevue."

She sighed and grabbed her coat. Elliot followed suit, but he paused to kiss you softly before following her out the door. "I'll see you later. Love you."

You smiled. "Love you too. Be safe."

"Always," he said with a wink.

You watched him walk out the door and you felt a pang in your chest. You'd always worried about him--about all of them--every time they went out on a call, but it felt different now. Knowing he loved you as much as you loved him made it so much harder to watch him leave knowing he might never come back.

Thankfully, he did come back, though he was not in a pleasant mood. He was snapping at every person who crossed his path and anyone who dared look at him sideways.

"It was the dad, Olivia," he was yelling when you came into the squad room. "I'm sure of it."

"Okay, Elliot, but we don't have any proof!" she yelled back.

"Hey," you cut in. "What's going on."

"Little girl is in the ICU because she'd been beaten pratically to death. The doctor said there was also evidence of prolonged sexual abuse," Elliot answered.

"That's terrible."

"Yeah, what's worse is the father did it," he said angrily.

"What proof do you have?" you asked.

"God, not you too."

"El, we can't just assume it's the father without some sort of evidence."

"My instincts and years of experience not enough for you?"

"It might be enough for me, but it's not enough for a court of law," you countered.

You could see the rage in his eyes and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You knew the statistics as well as anyone, so you knew it was likely that the child had been raped by a close family member. As a father himself, Elliot hated when a father was the cause of such trauma to a child. That hatred fulled his anger, which led to poor decision making.

"Why don't I talk to the father?" you suggested.

"I'm bringing him in tomorrow morning. I want first dibs," Elliot insisted.

"I think it's best if I talk to him first," you said gently, but firmly.

"Why?"

You sighed, not really wanting to answer him. "Because I'm not sure you can be objective, Elliot."

As you suspected, that only fueled his anger more. "Of course I can be objective! I'm objective! Why do you think--"

"You're angry," you said, cutting him off.

He paused. "Of course I'm angry!"

"I may not have children, but I understand where your anger is coming from, Elliot. The difference is you let your emotions guide you--you imagine yourself in that person's shoes and it fuels your rage." You sighed deeply. "For what it's worth, I trust your judgment. If you think he's guilty, I'm inclined to agree, but I want to talk to him first."

Your words seemed to calm him down. He hated seeing a child hurt, especially one that had been hurt repeatedly. He knew you were right--he was emotional and that tended to cloud his judgment. You, on the other hand, knew how to remain calm and rational, which tended to get you better results.

"You're right. You should interview him."

At that moment, Cragen stepped out of his office. "Emily Riley just passed away. The parents are on their way down to the station now."

"What happened?" Elliot asked.

"She threw a clot to her brain. It was likely caused by the beating she took."

"Why are the parents coming down here?" you asked.

"Mrs. Riley attacked Mr. Riley. She was screaming something about him doing this to Emily. Uniformed officers are bringing them down."

You turned to look at Elliot, who had a slightly surprised look on his face. "I think that means you were right, El."

"Maybe, just once, I'd like to be wrong."

When the Rileys arrived down at the station, Fin and Munch took Mrs. Riley to an interview room, while you took Mr. Riley to another room. Olivia joined you at your request, while Elliot and Cragen watched from the other side of the glass.

It didn't take you very long to get a full confession from Mr. Riley. He admitted to sexually assaulting his daughter for several years. It took a little longer for him to admit to beating her, but eventually he did. He told you and Olivia that he had to kill Emily because she threatened to tell her mother about what he'd done to her for years.

Once he admitted that, Elliot stormed into the room and yelled at him--screaming that he was a pervert and a monster. "You'll get the needle for this...and I'll be right there watching."

Elliot put handcuffs on him and took him to booking, with Olivia trailing behind. You met Cragen outside the interrogation room and he told you you'd done a good job.

"Honestly, I'd rather never have to do an interview like that again."

"But you're good at it, (Y/N)."

"Doesn't mean I like it."

"I don't think any of us really like it."

You offered him a sad smile before walking away, heading to your office to sit down and have a nice cry.

About 30 minutes later, Elliot found you in your office, eyes red from crying.

"Doll?" he asked. "You okay?"

You nodded. "I'm fine. I just...I hate doing those."

He came around the side of your desk and pulled you into him. "I know, baby. I don't like them either."

"That poor little girl. She never had a chance."

He squeezed you tighter. "At least he's going to prison for the rest of his life...thanks to you."

You looked up at him. "I can't take all the credit. Olivia was there too."

"You're the one who won him over. You got him to admit to everything he'd ever done to his daughter."

"At least this is done. I just wanna go home."

"Me too," he said as he stood up. "Get your coat and let's get out of here."

"I want a hot bath," you grumbled.

He chuckled lightly. "Hot bath, a glass of wine, and a good night's sleep next to your very handsome boyfriend, should do the trick."

You rolled your eyes as you threw on your jacket. "I'm taking you up on that."

"It's a guarantee," he said with a wink.

**********

It had been two months since Elliot had been shot. Two of the best months you'd had in a long time. Elliot felt the same. He loved spending time with you and just being around you made him feel so at peace. Just sitting next to you on the couch while you watched a movie made him happy. It was all the little moments that warmed his heart.

Tonight was special. It was the anniversary of the day Elliot realized he was in love with you. To you, it was an ordinary Tuesday, but to him, it was one of the most important days of his life.

He'd made dinner reservations for your favorite restaurant for that evening, but he wouldn't tell you anything else he was planning.

"Why tonight? What's the occasion?" you'd asked him that morning.

"Because I love you and I want to show you just how much," he'd answered.

You didn't believe there wasn't more to it, but you let the matter drop. By the time 5pm rolled around, you'd almost forgotten about your plans for that evening.

"Come on, babe, we gotta go," Elliot said as he popped his head into your office.

"Just let me finish this--"

"We've got reservations at 6:30, sweetheart."

You looked at your watch. "It's only 5:15."

"We have to get home and change first."

"Where are we going that I can't wear this?"

"It's a surprise! Now come on."

You laughed and gathered your belongings before following him out the door.

When you arrived home, you found that Elliot had already picked out exactly what both of you would be wearing that evening. He'd selected a beautiful dress for you and a well-tailored suit for himself.

Thirty minutes later, he was dragging you out the door, insisting he didn't want to be late.

When Elliot pulled up in front of the restaurant, your face lit up in surprise. "Elliot, you hate this place," you insisted.

He shrugged. "But it's your favorite."

"El..."

"Come on, beautiful." He hopped out of the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. He dropped his keys in the valet's outstretched hand before guiding you to the door.

"You never do valet. You always say it's a waste of money," you whispered.

"Tonight is a special occasion," he countered. "Besides, you're worth it."

You blushed heavily as he held the door open for you and followed you inside. "Is that why you took me to one of the most expensive restaurants in Manhattan?" you murmured quietly.

"Mhmm," he hummed.

"Am I missing something here? What's the special occasion?"

Before he could respond, you were met by the maitre d'. "Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes. Two for Stabler."

The man smiled at the two of you. "Right this way sir, ma'am."

You followed him to a nice secluded table in the far corner of the restaurant. It gave Elliot an excellent view of the entrance and it suited your preference for a quiet table.

A bottle of wine was immediately brought to your table and two cups poured. It was, of course, your favorite wine.

"Seriously, El...what's with all the fanciness?"

You chuckled. "Can't I treat my girl just because I want to?"

"You can, but I know you. You don't like fancy things."

"But you do."

"Sometimes," you conceited. "Especially when it comes to food."

He grinned. "You have very high expectations as it relates to food."

"You're not wrong."

A server seemed to appear out of nowhere to take your orders. You hadn't even begun to look at the menu, but you didn't need to. You knew exactly what you wanted. After the server left, you turned your attention back to Elliot.

"Are you going to tell me what's so special about today?"

He looked you in the eyes and for some reason, his expression made you feel emotional. "Two years ago today, I realized I was in love with you. This is the first time I've actually had the opportunity to celebrate that love."

Tears welled in your eyes and you gently fanned your face with your hand. "Come on, (Y/N), don't cry in public," you said lightly to yourself.

Elliot laughed warmly and reached across the table to take your hand. The man wasn't big into romantic gestures, but he'd made an effort for you and that meant everything to you.

"This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"You need to meet better people then," he said with a smile.

"It wouldn't have the same meaning coming from someone else."

It was his turn to blush. "You deserve to know how much you mean to me. I want to make sure you never forget it."

"I love you, Elliot," you said softly.

"Not as much as I love you."

The evening was extremely beautiful. Delicious food, incredible company...who could ask for a better night?

When you made it back home, you immediately slipped off your shoes and dropped onto the bed. "Who invented heels and can I kill them?" you grumbled.

Elliot laughed as he tugged off his tie. "I'm 80% certain murder is illegal. Besides, they make your ass look incredible."

You laughed. "You're not wrong, but only 80%?" You sat up and watched him as he continued to remove his shirt. Your eyes followed his hands as he unbuttoned his shirt--mouth watering slightly at the teasing bit of his form you could see.

Ordinarily you'd be embarrassed by how blatantly you were staring, but it had been a long time since you'd felt the touch of a man and your body suddenly lit up.

Elliot was still chattering on about something until he looked in your direction and fell silent. The look on your face was hungry--possessive even--and it sent a shock wave of desire through his body.

"Baby?" he asked tentatively.

"Come here," you responded, voice low and husky.

Even if he'd been blind and deaf, he still would have been able to feel the desire oozing from every pore in your body. It wrapped around him, enveloping every part of him, pulling him towards you.

He stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes slowly tracing over your body, waiting for you to give him permission to touch you.

"Help me up," you purred.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you to your feet. "Turn around," he said softly.

You did as he asked, exposing the zipper of your dress to him. You felt his fingers slide slowly up your spine before grasping the zipper and pulling it down at an agonizingly slow pace to just above the curve of your butt.

His lips brushed against the exposed skin of your shoulder as he began to remove your dress. He could feel your heart racing, the blood pumping through your arteries as he kissed your neck.

You gasped softly as his teeth grazed your pulse point, sending shivers through your body. His hands pushed your dress the rest of the way down, letting it pool at your feet.

You felt his hands caress you, sliding around your midsection and pulling you back against him. The way he touched you only made you want him more--the slow pace he'd set driving you crazy.

As if he sensed your need for more, his left hand began to slowly glide up your torso towards your breasts. He slid his hand across one breast and then the other, giving each one a gentle squeeze as he did so.

Your body was flush against his and you could feel his arousal pressing into your back. The lack of skin-to-skin contact was making you desperate. You needed to feel him--all of him.

You turned your head to look up at his face, but you were surprised by his heavy-lidded expression. You'd never seen him look like that and it did something to you.

Your lips parted slightly as you gazed at him and he found it impossible to resist. He leaned down to press his lips against yours, earning a soft sigh from you. You turned around so your chest was pressed against his, and your arms wound around his neck.

His shirt was already unbuttoned, so all you had to do was push it back off his shoulders and let him tug it the rest of the way off. You then let your hands wander under the hem of his undershirt, palms flattening against his taunt abs.

He knew what you wanted, so he pulled back just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head. He leaned back in to kiss you, but you pulled back slightly, hand pressed against his chest to keep him in place.

He would have been hurt by the motion if he'd missed the look on your face. Instead, he felt his chest swell with pride as you eyed him like he was the god, Adonis.

"See something you like?" he teased.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. "I see a whole lot I like."

He grinned and pulled you back in for another searing kiss. You swore that every time he touched you, it was like your body was on fire--each touch increasing the intensity of the burning. But it wasn't painful...it was an incredible feeling and you wanted more.

Elliot's hands made their way to your back, and he deftly unclasped your bra with practiced hands. You let the bra slide down your arms, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes.

He cupped them, lifting them to his mouth as he lowered his head to taste your skin. You let out a moan of pleasure as he nipped and sucked, paying each breast and each nipple its dues.

Your fingers began to claw at his belt, desperately trying to free him from the confines of his pants. Elliot chuckled softly at both your desperation and your frustration at not being able to undo his belt.

He pulled back and nodded his head towards the bed. "Lie down, baby."

You did as he asked, eyes never leaving him. He quickly undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He was slow to remove them, clearly enjoying the tortured expression on your face.

Your breathing was labored, despite the fact that you weren't doing a damn thing. You could feel your arousal pooling in your panties and you knew you were seconds away from completely losing it.

"How 'bout I just remove these too while I'm at it?" Elliot asked as he tugged his boxer shorts down his legs. When he stood up straight, you got your first view of his erection and you felt your pussy clench as a little gasp escaped your mouth.

He was thick and long--larger than you were used to, but not so big that it scared you. Your mouth watered slightly, the mere thought of feeling his weight on your tongue a massive turn on.

You quickly pulled yourself off the bed, cutting off Elliot's question before he could even speak as you dropped to your knees in front of him.

His eyes widened slightly as he gazed down at you. You looked up at him with a doe-eyed expression that nearly buckled his knees. He watched as you tentatively placed your hands on his thighs, eyes flicking up to his, checking to make sure it was okay.

He reached out and ran his fingers through your hair, letting you know he was comfortable. You licked your lips as your hands moved up his thighs, nails gently scratching the skin.

Elliot's breathing was already heavy and he knew he was going to have a hard time controlling his orgasm. It had been a long time for him too, after all.

You gripped his cock in your dominant hand, leaning towards him to take him into your mouth. You took as much of him as you could without gagging, eyes never leaving his face.

"Fuck," he whispered as he looked down at you.

The single curse word sounded like praise to you, so you ran with it. You wasted no time--you set a quick, intense pace, and he was loving it.

His fingers were tangled in your hair and a string of moans, heavy pants, and curses slipped from his mouth. He watched you as much as he could, but his head would roll back involuntarily as he reacted to the pleasure.

"You're doing so well, baby--feels amazing."

You moaned softly around his cock in response. The vibrations mixed with the warm, wet heaven of your mouth nearly made him cum. You felt the way his body tensed and knew he was close, so you sped up your movements, paying special attention to his sensitive head.

Elliot had been determined not to cum yet, but he was struggling to hold himself back. It just felt so damn good. "Baby, I--I'm close."

You were well aware and you wanted to taste him so badly--so you did the only logical thing...you looked up at him as you sucked, eyes filled with desire.

Within seconds, Elliot filled your throat with his cum--orgasm slamming into him like a freight train. As he started to come down from his high, he realized his grip on your hair was way too tight and he let go of you instantly.

"Sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?" he asked breathlessly.

You smiled up at him and licked your lips, making sure to get the last of his cum into your mouth. "Not at all, El. I loved every minute of it."

He relaxed and let out a relieved sigh. "Well so did I...you were phenomenal, (Y/N/N)."

He helped you up and pulled you against him so he could kiss you--not giving a damn that he could taste himself on your tongue.

"Can you lie down for me, baby? I'd like to repay the favor."

"You don't have to," you assured him as you settled onto the bed.

He looked at you in confusion. "You say it like it's some sort of chore."

You shrugged. "Not all men reciprocate."

"What kind of heathens have you been dating?"

You laughed. "Well...none of them were you."

"See, there's your problem," he teased.

He climbed onto the bed with you, hovering over your body, eyes scanning your face as if he was memorizing it.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" he murmured.

"Once or twice," you said, cheeks blushing slightly.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I've gotta tell you more often. No one compares."

Now your cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "Elliot..."

He suddenly sat up. "You know what, babe? I've got a much better idea." He flopped down onto his back. "Sit on my face."

"Say what?"

He turned his head to look at you. "Sit on my face," he said again.

"I...umm. That sounds dangerous."

He cocked an eyebrow. "It's not dangerous, it's sexy as hell."

You sat up and turned to face him. "Are you sure? I mean...couldn't I smother you?"

He laughed. "Absolutely not." His expression sobered suddenly. "Are you telling me no guy has ever asked you to sit on their face?"

You shook your head, embarrassment creeping into your face.

He sat back up and reached for you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want, but I promise you it's worth it--for both of us."

"Are you sure?" you asked again.

"I'm absolutely positive, babe."

He looked and sounded so confident--and to be honest, you'd always wanted to try it--so you nodded your agreement.

You quickly pulled your panties off before climbing on top of him. You straddled his chest--a slightly worried expression on your face.

"I promise you, you're not gonna hurt me," he reassured you. "Besides, I'm strong enough to throw you off me if I had to."

His tone was light and teasing, which made you feel better. Plus, you knew it was true--he really could throw you around if he wanted to.

You took a deep breath and moved your body so your pussy was directly over his face. You lowered yourself slightly, but you didn't actually sit on him.

He sighed in annoyance. "Did I ask you to hover over my face, baby?"

"No," you mumbled.

"What did I ask?"

"You asked me to sit."

"Mhmm...so sit."

You lowered yourself a little more, but you didn't put your full weight on him. You didn't think he would notice, but you were completely wrong.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and tugged you down so you were completely flush against him. He made the happiest noise you'd ever heard before diving into the delicious feast above him.

You nearly jumped off of him as he began to eat you out--the sensations so intense, it startled you. But holy fucking shit did it feel incredible.

The sounds coming from your mouth were loud enough to wake your neighbors. You grasped the headboard for support as you moaned and begged and chanted his name like a prayer.

All-the-while, Elliot was expertly attacking your pussy, sending wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure through your body. He groaned into you as he feasted, your cries of pleasure spurring him on.

He felt your nails rake against his scalp and your thighs began to shake. He tightened his grip on you as he continued his ministrations.

"Elliot--fuck," you gasped. "I'm so close."

"I know," he said into your pussy, knowing full well you couldn't hear him. He sped up his assault on your clit and seconds later your orgasm washed over you--screams of his name echoing in the small room.

He continued lapping up the mess you'd made, arms still wound tightly around your legs, keeping you against his mouth.

You started to squirm, but he didn't let go. "El--sensitive."

After a couple more licks, he finally released you and you practically fell off of him and onto the bed. Your legs shivered as aftershocks worked their way through your body.

Elliot was happily licking his lips as he watched you, expression smug. You looked almost delirious with pleasure and it brought him great pride.

"That...was...incredible," you said between breaths.

He grinned as he sat up. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." He wiped the rest of your slick from his face with a satisfied smirk.

You looked over at him and laughed breathlessly. He just looked so pleased with himself that you couldn't help but find it funny.

"Kiss me," you pleaded softly.

He was never one to deny you, so he pulled himself up and climbed onto your body, hovering over you once again. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours, earning a contented sigh from your lips.

You cupped the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you as you deepened the kiss. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable and you could feel his arousal press against your thigh. You smiled against his lips, appreciating that he was willing and able to keep going.

Elliot felt your lips curve into a smile and he pulled away so he could look at you. "Something funny, doll?"

You shook your head. "Nothing's funny. I'm just...pleased."

He chuckled and kissed your neck. "Pleased, eh?" He pressed another kiss against your skin. "About what?"

"You," you said breathlessly--his kisses quite clearly having the desired effect on you.

He smiled as he nipped at your collar bone. "I'll take the compliment."

You lifted your hips, brushing against his cock in search of friction. He hissed softly, the feeling too much and not enough at the same time.

Elliot grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him so he could settle more comfortably between your legs. He went back to kissing you, his hands gently skimming over your skin, his cock pressed against your entrance.

You ran your fingers through his short hair and whined softly.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Need you."

"I'm right here." His teasing tone annoyed you slightly--he knew exactly what you wanted.

"Elliot," you whined.

He grinned. "Come on pretty girl, just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

"I want you."

He nipped at your jaw. "Come on...you can do better than that."

You whined again, squirming beneath him, in dire need of his touch. "I wanna feel you inside of me, Elliot--please," you begged.

He growled softly, hearing you beg for him like that made him almost feral.

To your surprise, he started to pull away from you. "El?"

"Need a damn condom."

"I'm on birth control," you said quickly.

"You sure, babe? We know this little swimmers are potent."

You laughed. "I'm sure. Come here."

He lowered himself back on top of you and lined his cock up with your entrance. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of discomfort. Seeing none, he started to push into you slowly.

The stretch was both delicious and painful at the same time. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you winced slightly when he was about halfway in.

"Shit, am I hurting you?" His worried tone matched his facial expression.

"I'm fine," you assured him. "You're just...big."

He grinned wolfishly, pride pumping through his veins. He kept pushing forward until he completely bottomed out inside you, a deep groan escaping from his lips.

He gave you a few moments to adjust before he began to move. His speed was slow and languid, and his eyes never left yours. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and enjoying yourself as much as possible.

"More," you gasped out softly.

He sped up his movements, earning a series of moans from you. He shifted his body to get a better angle and you cried out in pleasure, nails scratching into his skin.

He knew better than to slow down or shift any farther. With each thrust, he brought you closer and closer to the edge--and the convulsing of your tight pussy mixed with the sounds coming from your mouth, pushed him towards the edge too.

"Please, please, please" you chanted.

"I've got you," he murmured.

Your nails dug even deeper into his skin, drawing blood as they raked down his back. You cried out in pleasure--a sound that closely resembled his name--as your orgasm hit you.

Elliot barely held on long enough to get in another thrust before he was filling you up with his seed, whispering your name like a prayer in your ear.

As the two of you came down from your highs, Elliot slowly pulled out of you. You shivered at the loss of contact and you could feel his cum leaking from your hole.

"I'll be right back, baby," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You could hear him in the distance, but you were a little delirious from all the pleasure he'd just given you. When he came back, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you towards the bathroom.

You let out a little yelp when he lifted you--you were unaccustomed to being carried anywhere. "What--?"

"Hot bath?"

You smiled up at him. He didn't really strike you as an aftercare kind of man, but you could tell he really cared. He wanted to take care of you.

You nodded and he very gently lowered you down into the tub, which was still filling with hot water.

"Temperature okay?"

"It's perfect," you said with a sigh as you leaned back. "Join me."

"In a minute, babe."

He left the room and came back a few moments later with a lighter and a couple candles. He quickly lit them and turned off the light, so the room was bathed in a soft glow. It was surprisingly romantic.

You leaned forward so he could slide into the tub behind you. As soon as he was comfortable, he grabbed you and pulled you back against him. He kissed the top of your head and you sighed happily.

"I love you," he whispered into your hair. "So damn much."

"I love you too, Elliot."

The two of you stayed in the bath until the water began to cool. Elliot helped you dry off and slip on your nightgown before guiding you back to the bed.

He pulled on a pair of boxers and slid beneath the covers beside you. He reached out and put his arm around you, pulling you to him so your back was flush to his chest.

"Sleep well, my love," he whispered.

You were already drifting off to sleep as he uttered those sweet words. He didn't need a reply--he knew exactly how you felt by the way you curled into him, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

#elliot stabler x reader #elliot stabler #elliot stabler x reader smut #detective stabler #law and order svu #law and order svu smut #detective stabler smut #elliot stabler smut

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gurugirl · 11 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/gurugirl/717253767497695232/loving-with-all-these-ideas-in-from-the-asks-l-im?source=share

imagine the surprise on jessica or another coworker's face if they saw them out or her coming to see him at the office and he is being all over her, i know he would go manic if anyone gave even the lightest judgemental look to her but he also would bring it up to her after when they are alone "such a little slut uh, acting all shy and cute around everyone but still fucked a married man without thinking twice and got all those gifts, my little whore..."

okay just gonna write this real quick...

**This is a little blurb to go with The Arrangement**

Took 30 minutes to write this 😬 Apologies for the lack of editing and proofreading. I should be doing other things but felt inspired? lol! Hope you enjoy :)

1905 words

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, DDlg, degradation, slight exhibitionism

Y/n didn’t have a class that day so she spent part of her morning lounging in her silk pajamas, sipping on cold brew coffee, and working ahead on an assignment due on Friday. But she had the idea that she’d go and visit Harry at the office. Plus it’d be fun to see everyone again.

After taking a shower and picking out a cute outfit from their walk-in closet she called a taxi to take her downtown. She sent a quick text once she was on her way.

Headed to the office. See you soon xxx

She figured she’d meet him for lunch. Maybe he could get out of the building for a bit.

Harry was in a meeting when she texted him but he saw her note and smiled to himself. He didn’t need to worry about anything. He and his wife were done. Sean sold him his part of the company and shares so he wasn’t around. And if anyone even so much as dared look at Y/n with any kind of contempt he’d set the record straight. There were already whispers of his new relationship with Y/n. What Sean had done with his wife. The divorce Harry was in the middle of.

When she stepped into the front of the office the office receptionist jumped from her seat and greeted Y/n with a warm smile, “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Nothing to drink for me. I can wait out front until Harry’s done with his meeting,” she said as she gestured toward the sitting area.

“Nonsense. I’ll bring you to Mr. Styles’ office to wait there. It’s a nicer view anyway. I’m sure he’d prefer you there.”

Following the receptionist toward Harry’s office Y/n was stopped by Jessica, “Y/n! What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped out of the meeting just as Jessica and Y/n were speaking.

“Oh! Hi! I’m just here to say hi to everyone. Wanted to see Harry real quick. How have you been?”

Y/n really wanted to get the attention off of herself. She realized most people knew that she and Harry were a bit of a thing at this point. But she still felt shy about being so open with it.

“I’m well. So you’re here to see Harry, huh? How’s that going?”

Y/n looked down at her expensive shoes and then shrugged before looking back at Jessica, “It’s good. Yeah.” She smiled shyly.

Harry walked up behind them at that and grabbed Y/n’s hand and gently pulled at her, “Hi darling. Come with me to my office?” He looked at Y/n as he spoke before turning to speak to Jessica, “You don’t mind if I pull her away for a bit do you?”

“Not at all. Nice to see you, Y/n.”

The moment Harry had his office door closed and locked he grabbed his little girl by her hip and pulled her into him, “What are you doing here?” He put his hands into her hair gently running his finger through it.

“Just wanted to see you. Thought maybe I could get you out of the office for a little lunch,” she smiled sweetly.

“Oh, it’s food you want? Interesting…” he continued with his fingers in her hair, “Thought you came here to show off. Let everyone know who you belong to now.”

“Harry…” she spoke softly, “that’s not why I’m here. I just-“

“Looking so cute and innocent in front of everyone. Showing off all the gifts I’ve bought you,” he nudged at her ear with his thumb over the Cartier diamond earrings he’d bought her, “It’s because you want everyone to know you’re Daddy’s little slut. Isn’t that right?”

“I just wanted to see you. That’s all,” she grasped his hand and moved it up to her lips so she could kiss his fingers, “I just missed you a little today. Thought it would be fun to see you,” she spoke between kisses as she kept her eyes on him.

“Just wanted to see me… Well, here I am. And I’ve already eaten lunch. It’s 2 pm, little girl. I have a feeling you came here for a different kind of fun.”

She smirked and then lowered her gaze to his lips as she dropped his hand and put her arms over his shoulders, “Just missed you, Daddy.”

Harry grinned and gave in to kiss her lips finally. She tasted sweet and smelled delicious. And her cute new dress fit her perfectly. Harry held her out in his arms and looked down over her outfit, “I do have good taste, don’t I?”

Y/n nodded and giggled as she looked down over her dress. She hadn’t worn this one yet. It was a little short and her heels were a little high. She’d also purposely put on a skimpy thong in hopes of him pushing it to the side and touching her or fucking her even.

“You really have everyone fooled, you naughty girl. They think you’re so sweet and shy but really, you had an arrangement with a filthy rich married man who gave you his credit card and then you stole him from his wife and now look at you,” he put his hand around her throat and pushed her back toward the couch in his office, “Shacked up with me, taking all my money, getting fucked every night, and pampered to your heart's content. You’re not innocent.”

Her blood rushed to her extremities and her head began to feel light and floaty like she usually did around him. Her pussy clenched and she moaned at his words and how he squeezed her neck softly.

“Sit down.” He gestured to the couch behind her as he let go of her neck.

She complied, holding the bottom hem of her dress as she put her bottom onto the soft cushion.

Harry sat next to her and leaned back into the couch, “Undo my pants.” He said but when she hesitated he continued, “Come on. I haven’t got all day. I’m a busy man, Y/n.”

She turned her body toward him and began to undo his pants. Harry brought a hand to her chin and grasped it to move her face to look up at him, “Haven’t got time for pleasantries. I’ve got a meeting in,” he lifted his wrist and looked at his expensive watch, “25 minutes.”

Y/n nodded as she unzipped his pants and sat back to wait for his next instructions, “Bend over the arm of the couch, put your pussy on the corner there so you can rub your clit while I fuck you.”

Quickly she got up and draped her body over the arm of the couch, placing herself at the edge where she could get enough friction from the couch. But truly, she didn’t care if she came or not. She was only there to please him. To let him come and get off.

Harry lifted her dress up as he pulled himself out of his briefs and tsk’d at her, “Desperately wet already. Just as I suspected. You’re going to make a mess of my couch, aren’t you?”

Y/n turned her head to look at Harry as he hooked a finger into the flimsy material and pulled it to the side so he could look at her pussy, “I’m always wet for you, Daddy,” she spoke quietly with rounded eyes.

Harry grinned and nodded, “I know you are baby.”

Harry braced himself with one arm on the back of the couch as he pushed himself into her. They both gasped at the delicious feeling of being connected. Two bodies as one. Moving together, breathing one another in, deeply attached and intrinsically joined.

When he’d dipped in as far as his balls would allow Y/n let out a groan that was too loud so Harry used his free hand to cover her mouth as he continued to rail into her, “Shhh… thought you wanted to keep up the appearance of being innocent. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what kind of whore you are, getting fucked on the couch in my office right next to the break room. Anyone in there could have heard you. Is that what you want?” Harry panted his words as he worked himself into her, the couch began to lightly bang into the wall at his thrusts, “You want people to hear how good I give it to you? How hard I make you come?”

Y/n’s eyes were rolled into the back of her head. She was happy to be a hole for him to come in but his cock always felt so good inside of her. And the cloth of the arm of the couch pressed into her pelvis and clit just right. She was glad his hand was over her mouth because he was driving into her deeply and each time he bottomed out she grunted into his hand unintentionally.

Harry spoke quietly into her ear as he continued fucking her, his balls whacking into her flesh, the obscene sound of wet pussy being fucked and skin colliding in repeated cadence in time with the couch hitting the wall, “I bet they all have their ears pressed to the door right now. They can all hear you little pussy getting fucked hard. That’s what you wanted, Y/n? Wanted to show off how good your cunt gets pounded?”

Her gurgles were muffled and Harry’s palm was wet with her saliva. He could tell she was drooling. He could see how red her face was and that she had goosebumps on her skin. Her eyes were fluttering. She was about to come. Which was good because so was he and he had to get going. His guests would be meeting with him in his office and he knew there would be a bit of cleanup involved.

“Gonna come on Daddy’s cock again? Didn’t you just come on his cock this morning, baby? Fffuck, my little girl is so needy. Needs Daddy’s come inside of her, doesn’t she? Poor thing. Wants to get knocked up and keep me forever doesn’t she?”

Y/n moaned and her walls clenched Harry’s cock as her orgasm took over. Her limbs stiffened and she grasped onto the material of the couch. Yes. She wanted all of that. If she could keep him forever, make him give her babies, and then he’d have to keep her.

Harry hissed at how tight her pussy gripped him but he continued his thrusts until he began spurting into her, punching into her deeply so his come could coat her and fill her insides.

Y/n opened her eyes when Harry released his hand from over her mouth and put her panties back into place. He helped her up and kept her in his arms, kissing her temple, “Okay to walk out of here like you are? Or do need a minute?”

She gulped and wiped under her eyes with one hand as she clutched onto Harry’s arm with her other, “I just need to wipe my face and calm myself a little.”

“Whatever you need. I have a mirror behind the cabinet door if you need it.”

Y/n straightened herself out and waved her hands over her face to cool down a bit as Harry wiped up the couch and then got his laptop ready for the meeting.

“Okay. I’m good now,” she smiled as she picked up her purse from the coffee table.

Harry kissed her forehead, “See you tonight at home at 7.”

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @be-with-me-so-happily @ithinkimaslutforharry @millie-753 @theekyliepage @harryspirate @kathb59 @giabbyespejo-blog @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

hello hello 🫶 i very much enjoy ur work and have been in love with ur page for weeks now ! i was wondering if u could write something abt married spencer and reader constantly being like ‘my husband’ ‘my wife’ ‘oh my wife would love this’ ‘i need to tell my husband about this’ bc i feel like married spencer would never shut up about it n u are a blessing to the cm fanfic community so i’d love to see what u could come up with ! thank u for ur hard work, we appreciate what u do ! 🫂

u are so very sweet :’) <3

—

Spencer turns the book over in his hands with a fond, dreamy smile, "Oh, my wife would love this."

The look that Morgan gives him is much less fond and dreamy, "Kid, we know she's your wife."

"Yeah, we know her name," JJ scoffs, though it peters out into a chuckle, "You don't have to flaunt it."

"Excuse me for loving my wife," Spencer huffs, snatching the book away from where Emily is side-eyeing the title so that her mouth drops in indignance.

"Hey!" She frowns, "I wasn't teasing you."

"For once," Spencer glares at her calculatedly, "Just yesterday you let me walk into the street while I was texting her."

"There weren't many cars coming," She muses, a smirk on her perfectly-lined lips as she reminisces, "Plus that truck saw you before he hit you."

"But I think the honking blew out my ear," Spencer laments, one hand raising to rub against the affected area.

"Oh no," Rossi's eyebrows raise in a dramatic show as he gasps, "Does that mean you won't be able to hear your wife tell you you're being too clingy?"

A round of jeers erupts from the agents as Spencer rolls his eyes, but Hotch pulls him aside and towards the counter of the bookshop they'd stepped into.

"Listen," He starts, voice set in his familiar low murmur, "Rossi's been divorced three times. Morgan and Prentiss are single. JJ almost drove Will away. Don't listen to them for relationship advice. If it's working for you, then stick to it."

Spencer's caught off guard by Hotch's momentary heart-to-heart. He doesn't know what to say, though, that statement is true more often than not, but he does know he needs to thank Hotch. So he fixes him with a tentative, kind grin, "Thanks, Hotch."

The man nods, fondness hidden away deep in his dark eyes, "I think you're made for each other."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid hc #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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anyaeras · 11 months

Text

Breaking Character || W.Maximoff

Paring || sitcom milf!wanda x AFAB!reader

Summary || When wanda is getting bored with the whole sitcom way of life, she decided to spice it up in this small town.

Warnings || Smut (at the end) ,, affairs ,, reader has a pussy ,, they/them pronouns ,, possessive!wanda ,, top!wanda ,, bottom!reader ,, legal!agegap ,, fingering ,, tit play (a little) ,, degrading (if you squint) ,, praising ,, cunnalingus ,, slight innocent!reader

Psa || expect sitcom style typing, it's meant to be silly and cringy please enjoy

Masterlist

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Life was easy, all fun in games, every now and then some new shenanigans would come about yet it seemed it was all the same, everyday the same story it was getting old.

Wanda maximoff, she was loved by the town, Westview seemed to be just the right fit for the women, she was happy to be there, Wanda wasn't old at all she was in her late 20s, but like many other women she was forced to marry quickly after becoming an adult, so she managed to settle for vision, but he was so boring and she wanted more, I mean come on the time is rolling into the 80s it's time for a change, to evolve. This whole republican motherhood needs to die out, She wanted a change, she wanted a revolution, or just something to make her life more interesting. Vision wasn't enough for her anymore he didn't please her, and she wouldn't be shocked if there was a divorce coming her way.

Today was no different than any other, wake up, get the kids ready, take them to school, and come back to the house. Drink a cup of coffee, maybe even clean the house a bit.

"Tommy! Billie! Come on. We gotta get going" raising her voice the sound of Wanda's soft sokovian voice rang throughout the house, and following was the sound of multiple footsteps coming towards her, who at the time was standing by the front door ready to go.

Dropping the kids off was easy, I mean she did this everyday, the same story different day kinda thing, debating on going to the market for a moment Wanda decided to go as it would be a way to get out of the house, plus she had been putting off the chore for a whole, picking up some groceries for dinner, walking threw the aisles, into the meat section is where she spotted them, y/n y/l/n, they were new in town, still mysterious and unknown to Mrs.Maximoff, but y/n drew the women's attention, as they were young yet charming, sweet and innocent to the big bad world, she was interested in them.

While Wanda was lost in thought it seemed y/n had been looking down at their shopping list, not paying attention to what was in front of them, and would run right into Mrs. Maximoff.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to bump into ya, I just wasn't paying attention and was lookin down at my list!" Y/n rambled, their clear mid-western accent was coming through showing Wanda they were not from around here.

"It's alright darlin, no harm done." She replied softly, yet, the bold tension (started by wanda) was definitely prominent. Y/n was growing shy under the older women's glare, so they sparked up conversation.

"Well I'm y/n y/l/n, and you are?..." y/n waited for a responses

"Wanda, Wanda Maximoff , I think I saw you around at the talent show earlier this week? If I'm not mistaken mmm?" The gingery women was thinking aloud yet y/n agreed, as the women looked relatively familiar to them.

"Oh yes, you were in the magic show right? Oh my was that your husband? You guys were very funny!" Y/n complemented, to which was taken to heart by Wanda , she always liked a nice complement, and was glad to hear people enjoyed the show, it was a nice little ego boost for the Westview witch.

The weird encounter kind of came to an end at that point yet wanda seemed to be thinking about y/n much more than she intended.

Later on Wanda was out in town on a stroll with Agatha , the infamous, next door neighbor , gossiper herself, Agatha was all for playing into the daring tension between wanda and y/n, that dark haired woman always did love some drama, and why be so traditional I mean it's 1980! It's time to make some change, maybe spice up the relationship...

"Yes yes Agatha, vision is great and all, but we don't have that magic, that feeling no more, he doesn't please me" wanda went on to say, as Agatha listened, she was honestly pretty encouraging, pushing wanda to go for it, I mean the what's the worst that could happen, right? Y/n y/l/n wasn't married yet, they were a little younger, yet they still were very bright, plus they didn't give off an uptight traditional way kinda attitude.

It seemed like deja vu, the way right then and there wanda this time ran right into y/n.

"We've got to stop meeting like this" y/n said with a slight hint of humor.

"I don't know, at this point I'm starting to believe you enjoy when we run into each other" wanda playfully shot back.

"Maybe so" y/n laughed back giving candy a bright idea, as somehow it seemed they were alone and Agatha had busied herself a few feet back.

"How about we get to know each other, well in another way haha, me and you could go grab a bit?" The older women proposed the idea, and was met with awkward silence for a moment before y/n agreed which was a little shocking to the other women.

Wanda started leading y/n off to an outdoor seating of a small local restaurant, and it seemed Agatha had "gotten lost" and left the two, letting them do their thing.

Wanda was definitely blunt she wasn't great about beating around the bush, yet she did try too.

"So tell me about yourself?" Mrs Maximoff asked pressing for more information about this younger person.

"Umm my names y/n y/l/n, grew up in a small conservative town, I'm from the Midwest, moved down here for a change, I like change I like being different" y/n kinda let the words flow, yet the women sitting across from them just sat and listened, letting y/n just talk.

"I cant brush this off anymore." Wanda cut y/n off and It was quick and to the point.

"Huh"

"Would you be interested...well in me? I mean you aren't married, and the lord above only knows how attractive I find you." Wanda let it out her thoughts, expecting the rejection, yet you cant blame a girl for trying.

"Yes. Yes I'd be interested, in you!" It was mumbled yet clear as day to Wanda when she heard y/n agree to the idea.

"Really? Okay, well you live alone, and I'd love to be alone with you so, how about your place Thursday" the women once's more proposed an idea to which y/n agreed and told her to call them whenever.

The two parted ways after the lunch break, both more than satisfied with the idea of each other, Wanda somehow ran back into Agatha as now she was telling her neighbor all the details.

"I can't believe they agreed, I mean this is...not very... you know holy? Good? Wife? of me, but I have needs and vision just can't fill my needs any longer" the Sokovian women went on, justifying herself yet Agatha didn't care, she was supportive no matter what.

"Wans, just be smart about this and no one will get hurt."

Thursday came rolling around fast. After the same old dropping the kids off for school, and running to the shop, wanda now found herself strolling up to y/n's house , which it wasn't to far, it was normal for Wanda to take walks, so she decided to just walk to block to arrive at their house. It wasn't like Wanda to be nervous, she was a calm, yet not patient type of person. Finally she pulled herself forcing her legs to walk towards the door, only needing to knock once.

She was met with a warm greeting from y/n, as they stepped aside letting the older women come in, y/n oddly really wanted to impress Wanda, they did things differently then most, they set up a lunch of the two of them, and got out a nice bottle of red.

"Aww you didn't have to do all this darlin, but it's nice, thank you" the compliment was taken to heart by y/n, they weren't married, so they don't come home and make dinner for anyone ever, so making a meal for this women was nice.

"It was no trouble really, it was nice to make a meal for someone" they replied causing wanda to send a soft smile their way, which lead to them sitting down to talk over another lunch.

Yet one thing led to another and things started to happen...

"Y/n im a bit older then you, are you sure you want this?" Wanda pushed making sure this wasn't gonna be a bad idea.

"I swear I want this just like you do..." y/n's words came out confidently, and that was enough for Wanda to jump into action. Standing up quickly moving to y/n she placed her hands on y/n's face before pulling them in for a sweet kiss.

Wanda took control quickly pulling them by their arm to the bedroom (which the gingery brunette had to look for but found it evidently) before pushing y/n onto the bed to continue what she started with the younger one back in the dinning room.

Wanda sat up pulling the silky robe you had put on off you, before removing her sundress, moving back to push you into the bed starting to suck on y/n's neck, leaving soft purple marks on their lower neck, drawing soft moans from the person below them.

"Oh god" fell from y/n's mouth making wanda laugh above them.

"I don't think you want god to see this silly"

Wanda clapped back before starting to pull at y/n's bra, making it pop off, tossing it to the floor before starting to groop their tits softly with both her hands, slowly building up pressure, before she wrapped her lips around y/n's bud sucking it slightly as they arched their back in response.

"Mmm seems like you enjoy being mine" Wanda laughed leaving a trail of kisses on the other person stomach, yet it seemed y/n had a little be of confidence, being able to reach out and pull the older women up to their face so they could get another kiss. After the short kiss broke, wanda laughed at the boldness of the younger one, yet at the same time Wanda's fingers were making their way under y/n's waistband, the women's fingers slipped easily threw y/n's slick folds.

"Oh my darling, you are dripping, all for me hmm?" Wanda was having to much fun embarrassing y/n, it was just so much fun. Y/n moaned at the feeling of the women's fingers slowly moving inside them, wanda slipped two fingers into them to which was enough to make y/n mewl below her.

"Look at you, a moaning mess, all for me, I mean you're mine right darling? No one else's right" Wanda asked sternly as she started to move her fingers at a decently quick pace, lost in pleasers all they could do is nod to answer her question.

"Good, so good for me" Wanda praised as she added a third finger causing y/n to jump a bit as she stretched out their pussy. Wanda was growing impatient, she wanted to make y/n scream and that's what she was gonna do, picking up her speed she was trusting her fingers in and out of the younger one, fast and hard pretty much forcing y/n over the edge and with a scream y/n couldn't even stop themself before hitting their climax quick and hard, throwing them into shock.

Wanda slowed down leaving her fingers inside y/n for a moment longer while they came down from their high, eventually wanda removed her fingers which were covered in y/n's juices, before moving then in front of your mouth, pushing past your lips forcing you to taste yourself, allowing you to moan at the flavor.

"You are so pretty honey, you turned me on so much, do you think you can help me?" Wanda asked softly getting a yes from y/n, before guiding them off the bed, to kneel on the floor next to the bed placing you between her legs, wanda pulled her own panties off, before prompting y/n to eat her out.

Y/n wasn't skilled yet they tried their hardest, slowly licking a long strip before driving in, trying to pay attention the the women's clit, and the moans coming from Wanda were definitely encouraging, the women soon put her hand in y/n's hair, guiding them a bit more, and as y/n lapped on Wanda, the women grew closer to her own high.

"Yes just like that darlin, keep go-" Wanda cut herself off with a moan, as she let go, Wanda came, as her legs where shaking yet still trapping y/n between her legs until she was able to calm down.

Pulling y/n up off their knees and back into the bed with her, Wanda laughed a little as she noticed how messy y/n's face was, giving them a kiss moaning slightly as she tasted herself in their mouth, before laying down pulling y/n into her to relax together on the bed.

"Wanda?"

"Yes y/n?"

Y/n turned now facing Wanda looking up to make eye contact with the women

"Can we take a bath?"

"Of course darling".....

From that point on Wanda and y/n would always be together in some way, yet due to Wanda's powers no one dared to question them, Wanda may have broken character, but the story kept going

#lgbtqia #marvel #marvel mcu #writing #fanfic #marvel edits #marvel fic #lizzie x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #wanda smut #wanda maximilf #mommy wanda #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wlw books #wlw post #wlw smut

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 6 months

Note

👀 a plus-sized love interest in a game? please tell me more

yuuuup you heard me right

in our life 2, one of the romanceable leads is plus-sized and the other lead starts off using he/him pronouns but comes out as genderfluid part way though the story

our life as a game essentially functions as a visual novel that takes place during your early childhood (step 1), preteen/early teen days (step 2), young adult (step 3) and then finally with step 4 adulthood where you and your extremely customizable mc (that you can name, customize the hair color/texture of, change your pronouns throughout the story if you desire, if they're ace or not, the kinds of people they're interested in, etc. etc) as you grow up with your friends, family and of course the leads whom you can either have a purely platonic, romantic or familial relationship with

basically, everyone gets a piece of the pie as the game is incredibly inclusive and the base games are free, you only pay for the dlcs (which are about 3.99/4.99 each) if you want additional content

in our life 1 the primary love interest is cove holden, your shy but 'opens up like a flower when you get to know him childhood friend' whose dad offers you $20 bucks to befriend his son over the summer, will you take the money? or nah? whether or not you do, you do have the choice to tell him or keep it a secret. either way, cove is a lonely kid in love with mermaids and the ocean whose parents are going through a divorce and maybe a special kid born and raised in sunset bird can help him out. (canonically on the autism spectrum as well)

but with some fairly priced dlcs, you can also unlock two more love interests

derek suarez: oldest of 3 brothers and while playful, he means very well. sometimes that well-meaning nature can get him into trouble though. he has a crush on the mc and if given the chance, asks if you're both single as adults if you can get married. you mainly get acquainted with him in step 2 as step 3 he's a bit too busy to be around, but depending on your choices you can stay in touch despite all that or perhaps you'll lose touch over time only to rekindle old feelings in step 4.

and baxter ward: an eccentric but extremely charming tourist that comes to sunset bird in step 3 with a penchant for dressing in black and white all the time. if you choose to get close to him, he asks if it's possible if he can be your suitor for the season (it's possible, through a moment in step 2 to meet baxter earlier than his intended proper introduction though). either way, you do have a chance to take things to a more permanent relationship in step 4 when you reunite once again when you've become a bridemaid for a wedding and oh shit baxter is the wedding planner

ol1 takes place in a fictional town called sunset bird which is essentially a touristy seaside retirement community. you're raised by your two moms along with your sister liz, the both of you being adopted.

also, this game is told through various summers in your life.

our life 2, on the other hand, takes place in a completely different fictional town called golden grove located in oregon (baxter's hometown) and there are 2 base leads you can romance (idk if there will be anymore though):

qiu "autumn" lin: to start, qiu is very charming and that leads to him being very popular in step 1. he's the guy everyone adores to the point each semester there's a 'who gets to sit next to qiu' chart so it's all fair. by step 2 though, they're going through their emo phase and if you aren't close to them by that time (or choose that you stopped being friends between steps 1 and 2), then as far as they're concerned you're just another face in the crowd. by step 3 though, they're back to the charming rizzler they were back in step 1

(step 4 designs/info not out yet for for ol2)

and tamarack baumann: who starts as a bit of a wild child in step 1. she prefers to the forest to the city and can spend all day there. she's blunt and can be loud, but she has your back from day 1. by step 2 though, all that self-assured confidence where she knew herself is gone and tamarack is considerably shyer and more awkward. she can find solace in your friendship though should your promise to be friends forever in step 1 still hold out. by step 3, she's evolved into a quietly confident grandma friend

also contrast to the first game, ol2's story is told throughout various autumns of your life.

you and your mom are a solo duo who have recently moved into golden grove about a week after tamarack (a fellow new kid! it makes it easier for you to connect with her), your mom being a single mom by choice through ivf (but it's strongly hinted that a waiter at the local diner (born intersex, assigned female then transitioned into male) is into her and i am MANIFESTING MY ASS OFF they get together at some point). ol2 also will have a poly feature that comes in the game for those who wish to be committed to both of the leads!

the leads themselves are all pansexual, leading to them being able to date your character regardless of gender and sexual identities and are just extremely wholesome and lovely overall. i always play them whenever i need a mood boost. between the two though, ol2 is not yet done BUT there is a demo of step 1 out right now on itch.io and steam

it's a fun game where all your choices matter and are referred throughout the game as a 'hey remember when yn and cove tried running away from home? that was such a nightmare' or 'hey i met you! a few years back at the summer soiree! wow, if anything had gone slightly different, we might not have even met then' or even 'yo remember when we spent that summer doing beach cleanup??? we should do that again'

even the side characters you grow up with or become acquainted with throughout the steps have journeys from either transitioning and identifying with different pronouns than they were initially introduced with or pursuing specific degrees at school, moving away and either you stayed in contact or hell maybe it's one of those situations where a friend of yours moved away and you never heard from them again etc etc. the ol universe also extends partly into the universe of the xoxo droplets game (made by the same team and also free, unless you wanna pay for the paid version with 3 more romanceable leads and a mc with a hilariously unique personality) with some characters from that game making cameos as childhood encounters in ol. it's all really fun! i really recommend giving the game a try, you'll fall in love with sunset bird and golden grove i guarantee it

you can have a peaceful run with the normal amount of growing pains, or you can go full novela and have lots of drama and flair but rest happily knowing that in ol everything ends up working out. your mc can be shy or bold and out going in one step and then be completely the opposite in the next. maybe you have a very biting attitude or maybe you're extremely gullible. you can change it up with each run, it's extremely replayable

can't stress enough how much i love this game and the characters in it

#look she's answering #anon #our life #our life: beginnings & always #our life: now & forever #cove holden #derek suarez #baxter ward #qiu lin #tamarack baumann

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hangmanssunnies · 1 year

Text

Bones, Hearts, & Marriages

Summary: You and Javy "Coyote" Machado did not get married for the right reasons. Now, three years later, you are going to make sure that you two at least get divorced for the right reasons to make up for it. However, per usual, things don't always seem to go to plan when Coyote is involved.

(Thank you @bradshawsbitch for this stunning gif 🫶)

Pairings: Javy "Coyote" Machado x AFAB! Reader

Word count: 11k

AO3 link

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Marriage of convenice, PinV, Realistic intimacy conversations, implied plus size reader, insecurity, self image issues, Valentine's Day.

Please let me know if I missed any.

Authors Note: Oh gosh, I have been working on this for a while now. It was supposed to be posted for Valentie's Day, but then life happened. I love Coyote soo much, and I actually NEED him to be my husband or I will perish. Coyote Hangman BFF supremacy implied. As always, apologies for any mistakes.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

There was no question in your mind that your husband, Javy "Coyote" Machado, was your dream man, and most people would think that it is very lucky to be married to your dream man. Most people also wouldn't think falling in love with your husband was a terrible mistake. However, most people's husbands were in love with them back. You hadn't married Coyote because you loved him, and he certainly didn't marry you out of affection, either. The truth was, it was just a very convenient arrangement for the two of you. Javy hadn't wanted to live on base anymore, plus the benefits and pay for married men were better. Also, he was so tired of being bottom of the totem pole for vacations and holidays off to the aviators and sailors who were married or had families. For you, being married would change your financial aid status to receive almost three times more money each term. Having a clean, financially stable roommate was the cherry on top of the deal. You and Javy had really only known each other a few weeks when you had jokingly mentioned your need to get married. After several conversations where Coyote was deadly serious, you found yourself at the courthouse with him signing licenses and throwing a small party with your friends. Even now, nearly three years later, you would still catch yourself thinking about the sweet kiss he had bestowed on you.

To say you were unhappy with your marriage or your husband wouldn't be true. You were happy, and Javy was good, almost too good and kind to you. That itself could be an issue because it was so easy to slip into being his wife, being Mrs. Machado. Nowadays, it was second nature to snuggle up on the couch with him, celebrate your wins together, and seek him out for comfort with your losses. You would try anything new he would whip up in the kitchen and offer a detailed critique. It was natural to want to make Javy happy. You worry and care about him. Though you try not to make comparisons, you were pretty sure you missed him just as much as any other military spouses missed their partners anytime Coyote was gone. You never allowed yourself to consider the possibility of your marriage being more with Javy. It didn't take much for you to deter those thoughts; typically, just some extended longing looks at Javy paired with a glance in the mirror to remind you that Coyote was out of your league. No matter how often he would compliment or say that you were beautiful. Three years into this marriage, you two still had separate rooms and hadn't fallen in love or bed even once, despite your secret hopes, which was telling enough.

You and Javy were friends first, no matter what the other circumstances were. So, picking Coyote up from the bar certainly wasn't something unusual. This evening his texts, where most things were misspelled and littered with random emojis, made you thankful that he shared his location with you because they were borderline incomprehensible. He wasn't actually answering any of the questions you were asking either. It was there at the bar picking him up that you started to realize maybe the benefits of this marriage weren't enough anymore.

"Howdy, Mrs. Machado," Jake says affectionately when you enter the bar and found the group of familiar aviators that made up your husband's friends. You kiss his cheek in greeting, taking stock of his well-being, pleased to find Jake mostly sober.

"Hey, Hangman," You verbally answer, looking around for Coyote, wanting to get home and into bed as quickly as possible. His tall form isn't around the table with the other aviators, so you look back to Jake expectantly. "And where is Coyote?"

"Aw, little M&M, you don't even care about me anymore," Hangman says in a fake whine while pouting.

"That just isn't true," you say, rolling your eyes at the blond while continuing to look around the honestly concerningly dark bar.

"He's at the bartop," Jake finally supplies. You try hard to contain your frown, but you aren't fully successful. Javy had already been very drunk when he texted you earlier. Sighing, you turn to the bar, finally spotting the tall and broad shoulders you were looking for. He is on the back side, furthest away from you. It takes conscious effort not to let your eyes linger too long, lest you get caught up in just how tall, broad, and what a great ass your husband has. You wave a hand towards Hangman and the rest of the group in a half thanks and beeline to the bar.

Coyote is laughing with the bartender when you get there. You slide in close next to him, leaning in against the bar top. Javy's eyes flash a glance at you, away, and then back towards you as he turns to face you completely.

"Oh my god Mark, my wife is here!" Coyote says enthusiastically and at least two times louder than he needs to, considering how close you are standing.

"It's nice to meet you," Mark says, smiling at you. Javy wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him in a half hug so that he doesn't let you go after. His lips press to the side of your head that is lingering. You ignore how he nuzzles you and how warm and strong his arms feel, reminding yourself that Coyote is just a very affectionate drunk.

"Hi Coyote," You greet him, trying not to let the wide smile he gives you go straight to your heart. However, when his eyes crinkle, it was a fool's errand. You see that smile nearly every day, and it still manages to make heat blossom in your chest. Finally managing to tear your eyes off him again, you focus back on the conversation.

"It's nice to meet you, Mark. Has Lieutenant Machado paid his tab yet, or should I?" You ask, nudging Javy's side playfully. It has the opposite effect than you intended as Javy pulls you even closer and tighter into his side.

"He hasn't. In fact, he was just ordering another Shirley temple," Mark informs you. Shooting a halfhearted glare at Javy for ordering another drink this late, his grin hasn't dimmed once. Sloppily he raises the drink to his mouth, taking three attempts to finally find the straw and slurp up a large gulp. When he sees your frown, Javy sets the drink back down on the bar.

"It's a virgin," Coyote reassures you with a small laugh, no better than a schoolboy with what he finds funny sometimes. Once he manages to contain the giggle, he continues on, "I know better than to drink after 12:30."

That answer placates you as you start rummaging in your purse for a card to pay. However, when you go to hand over the card, it is smacked out of your hand. There wasn't any real force or aggression to the action, but it certainly was surprising, causing the metal rectangle to clank against the bar top.

"Javy!" You gasp in surprise, turning to see him glaring at you.

"You're not paying for anything when I'm around," he all but growls. His arm that is snug around your shoulder hasn't moved one bit, but his free hand is digging around his pocket, clearly looking for a wallet.

"Javy, sweetheart. It's okay. I know how you feel about this." You pick up the card from where it fell on the bar and show it to him. As you explain, the Navy Federal Credit Union logo is clearly visible for him now, "This is the card for our joint account."

Halting the digging in his pocket, he narrows his eyes to fully observe the card. Once he is convinced it's the card attached to his account, he weakly apologizes, "Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, " you say as you pass over his soda and then nudge his side again. "Why don't you say goodbye to the boys. I will close your tab."

"You're not going to leave, right?" He asks you worriedly. His thumb brushes a broad stroke against your arm while he asks the question.

"Not without you, handsome." You reassure him, ignoring the small butterflies he still inspires in you.

"Promise?" Javy asks you in a small voice.

"I promise," you say. You squeeze his hand gently and then peel his arm off you.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," you guarantee, hooking your pinky with his. A wide grin splits Javy's face again, and he kisses your forehead. Walking away, mostly steady on his feet, to say goodbye to his friends. Once you're sure he made it alright, you turn back to Mark.

"I'll grab his tab, and we might as well grab Seresin's Tab also. The blonde one over there," you request, gesturing back their direction.

"Sure thing," Mark says, offering you an easy smile and taking your card to run through the POS system. It's in that quiet moment in-between while paying when your whole night shifts. You hear a group of men a bit farther down the bar, but there weren't even any people between you and their gabbing. You were sure they were all drunk enough to think that the conversation wasn't one that could be overheard.

"That's Coyote's wife?" One asks in disbelief catching your attention.

"Yeah, I'm shocked every time," someone else confirms. You resist the urge to look over at the group and see which one of them had met you before or if they just knew because of Javy's previous yelling. It's not like you exactly played the part of trophy officer's wife very often like someone married to Javy should be.

"I don't understand," the first man says like he is trying to solve a very complex math problem. It's not an uncommon reconciliation someone might have to make seeing you and Javy together.

"There is no way Coyote settled for that," One of them says in disbelief. Their conversation is a dagger to your heart and self-esteem. While you knew that Coyote was out of your league, confirmation from someone outside yourself doesn't make it hurt less.

"Maybe she looked different when they first got together. You know a lot of women let themselves go after marriage."

"Well, she is kinda pretty… If that's what you're into." Gritting your teeth to keep from crying, you wish you could just disappear or that Mark would hurry up with your card so you can collect Javy and leave.

"Fair enough, but Coyote is a ten dude." Maybe it was more offensive that they thought you weren't aware of your husband's attractiveness than their opinions on your own looks. As if you weren't aware, like you didn't see Coyote shirtless daily or when he got home from his run and the gym. The 5-inch inseam shorts he wore on your last beach vacation and just how great his thighs looked haunted your dreams for months. As if you hadn't seen him in his dress whites, dress blues, and the Tuxedo he wore to his cousin's wedding last summer. You were very conscious, hyper-aware even, of how attractive Coyote is.

"You know who else has an ugly wife?" Someone interjects, and their conversation moves on. You wish it was as easy for you to move on. Of course, it's not the first time you have heard similar comments, but they still nearly bring you to tears every time. It's not fair so much importance is put on physical looks, on something you can't even fully control, despite what most people think.

You make eye contact with Mark, who is looking at you with something much too close to pity, while your card is processing. How he looks at you makes the pit in your stomach fall a bit lower like he agrees with them but would never say it. As if he is embarrassed that you were forced to endure hearing the truth on this matter. You manage to give him a smile, but it clearly is forced. Anyone thinking you weren't painfully aware of the discrepancies of attractiveness between you and your husband must also believe you are blind. When Mark gives you the receipt to sign, you quickly scribble a tip and your signature, wanting to escape as quickly as possible. As you shove your card into your purse, you finally look over to the group who made the comments trying to remember their faces in the din of the bar so that if you meet them again, you can avoid them at all costs.

You go back to Coyote, who is laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and his eyes are crinkled. You know that he isn't laughing at what you just heard. Javy's sense of duty regarding you and your sham of a marriage is boundless, and he hasn't hesitated to play the part of a protective husband before. However, you feel so sensitive now that part of you thinks he must be laughing at you. Despite how irrational it is, you can't fully push the thought away. Coyote must find it funny that he has gotten you to come pick him up. It's funny that people always view the discrepancies in your marriage in his favor.

As your feelings and thoughts start to spiral darker, your nails bite into your palms. The looming cloud over you is shoved to the side because Javy is making grabby hands at you. As a human embodiment of sunshine, something magnified by how carefree and open he is while drunk, it only takes that and a smile for the dread hanging over you to significantly lessen. Even though you don't feel quite as low as you did when leaving the bartop, you still aren't in high enough spirits to settle into Javy's welcoming embrace. His strong arms fall back to his side at your denial, which also dims his smile as he comes close to you.

"Are you ready to go, Coyote?" You ask, trying and failing to achieve the upbeat tone you were shooting for.

"No," he answers petulantly.

"No?"

"I want to dance before we go." He pouts, opening his arms wide again. You try to ignore all his friends' eyes on you and Hangman's amused sniggering. Javy is very affectionate when drunk, and it wouldn't shock you that Jake had been on the receiving end of that affection in the time it took you to get here to pick your husband up.

"We aren't dancing. We are going home," you respond, maybe a bit too curtly because all the joy in Javy's face is sucked away. Watching his grin become a frown and the mirth in his eyes drop just serves to add to the heavyweight you feel coiled up in your chest. The one that is always there but was aggravated by the conversation you overheard and will be as sensitive as an open wound for several days to come.

"Bye guys," Javy says halfheartedly, waving to his friends and now quickly striding to the door, not even waiting for you or checking if you are following. You look over to Hangman and shrug quickly, telling him that you got his tab too.

"Little M&M, you do care!" Jake gasps, pressing a hand to his heart.

"And don't you forget it," You say, while accepting his side hug.

"Thank you, honest. And you get my wingman home safe, please." Jake says, letting you go and shooting you a stellar smile. The rest of the group calls their well wishes, and You give one last wave before hustling after your husband. Coyote is standing, waiting near the door outside. You immediately start to walk to the car but turn around when you realize Javy hasn't moved.

"Can still hear the music out here," Javy mumbles.

"True, they must have an outside speaker." You say while backtracking to him again. Javy lifts a hand, settling it on your shoulder, then running it down your arm until his fingers tangle together with yours.

"Dance with me? Please." He requests again, and you can't say no with the way he is looking at you.

Setting down your purse on top of one of the outside tables, you hesitantly step closer into Javy's waiting arms. He hums contently the moment you are there. Singing along with the music into your ear, he holds you close. The dancing is little more than swaying together almost in time with the music. That doesn't really matter to you, though, because Javy is warm, and being this close to him makes you feel safe. Two songs pass that way. However, when a more upbeat tune comes on Coyote tries to spin you, nearly falling in the process, and you think it's probably time to get home.

He doesn't make any complaint getting into the car, except for insisting on carrying your purse and then holding it in his lap once his seatbelt is secured. While driving home, Javy is staring at you instead out of the window. He was so quiet at first you thought he had fallen asleep. However, when you cut your eyes over to him at a stop light, you are trapped in the deep brown of his gaze. You're lucky the roads are mostly abandoned because you nearly miss the green light you are so caught up in him.

"Do you ever wonder?" Javy eventually asks you.

"Wonder what?"

"About us. About this," He says, spinning and twisting his wedding ring. Javy had surprised you when he had come home one day with the matching bands only a few short weeks after you got married. There had hardly been an occasion since that he could be found not wearing it.

"I don't know. What is there to wonder about Javy?"

He blows out a long sigh through his nose, and your stomach clenches with anxiety. Javy had always been so resolute, so committed to this deal you two had. His steadfastness is what you would desperately cling to on the days that you felt like you conned him. Javy questioning your union suddenly shakes everything in you. Maybe he had heard what those men in the bar were saying after all. Perhaps after all this time, it was going to click for him that he shouldn't waste away in a loveless marriage, that he could do so much better than you.

"I suppose so. 'S Not like we could go back and change anything."

"Do you regret what we did?" You ask him, barely above a whisper. The quietness following your question is heavy, and the dark of the car makes it nearly suffocating. Javy's left hand peels your right hand away from the steering wheel, and he threads your fingers together tightly.

"No. I never regret," he says firmly. Neither of you utters another word on the way home, but Javy doesn't let go of your hand either.

The men's comments from the bar hang over you all night as you fitfully toss and turn, trying to sleep. You consider them beyond just the comments about your looks, but more about Javy and what he deserves. How he deserves something more than you. You want to keep him, but the more you think about it, the more wrong that seems. While meditating on your husband, you come to the decision there is nothing, not even your own comfort, that you care about more than seeing Javy "Coyote" Machado happy and in love. Something he will never be with you. You rationalize it's like a bone that had been allowed to heal the wrong way; the only way to remedy it and set it on the right path is to break it first. Bones, hearts, and marriages all practically the same thing.

You are buzzing with this revelation, and when you wake up the next morning, you know you can't wait. The sooner you get it over with, the better it would be for both of you. Still wearing pajamas, you go straight to the kitchen after waking up. You can hear Javy there making noise.

"Javy, I want a divorce," you declare more confidently than you feel. The words leave your mouth before you have even fully gone through the kitchen doorway. There is a clattering and your eyes are instantly drawn up from the floor near your feet where you had been focusing. Javy is standing by the counter wearing his Kiss the Cook apron and drops a knife he was holding.

He opens and closes his mouth twice before he finally says something. It sounds directed more toward himself than you. "I can't believe you just asked me for a divorce on Valentine's day."

"Is it Valentine's Day?" You ask him, shocked. Quickly pulling out your phone to check the date, the device confirms that it is absolutely February 14th. You can't believe you woke up and let the holiday sneak up on you.

"It is," he reaffirms, a deep frown marring his handsome features.

Guilt immediately floods through you because Javy loves Valentine's Day. He had openly admitted on your first anniversary that it was one of his favorite unexpected benefits of being married. He loved having someone to do all the typical Valentine's Day things with. Someone he was guaranteed to spend the day with. He wouldn't admit it, though you suspected he also liked that it was a day you were guaranteed to think of him. An added day to the calendar that he knew he wouldn't be forgotten.

There are not one or two, but three large bouquets of flowers scattered in the room. The table is all set up with a cloth covered in pink and white hearts. With a glance at the pan, you see the potato pancakes Javy is cooking as well as the sweet crepes arranged with strawberries he had cut to be heart-shaped. All of this on top of the various decorations littered around the room. The room is littered with evidence of Javy's joy for the holiday, almost decorated to the point of tackiness. Every part is thoughtful as well as endearing, and you hadn't even realized the day. Tears prick at your eyes while taking the whole thing in. He leads you to rest at your small round dining table his palm warm on your arm as he guides you.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I can ask again tomorrow, I guess." You say with a wobbly voice.

"No sweetheart, I don't want you to ask again." He says tightly. Javy isn't even sitting in the other chair. Instead, he kneels in front of you while holding your hands, looking so earnest. "Why do you want a divorce?"

"Well, the reasons we got married don't really apply to us anymore. You will still live off base now no matter what, at your rank, and I'm finally graduating." Javy's thumb is still swiping across the back of yours. You recognize it's wrong to take comfort from him right now, but you also can't help how you relax slightly which each stroke.

"Okay," he says slowly. Staring at you intently, you can see how hard Javy's brain is working to process the information you just threw at him. He traces over your face, then falls down to look at your joined hands. Javy squeezes your hands and drops them, sitting back on his heels, and you feel the dread seep in again, not having his steadying warmth so close anymore. "Can we dissect this together, please? You want a divorce?"

"Yes," you answer. He blows out a long heavy sigh, scrubbing his hands across his face as he sits in the chair on the other side of the table. Silence starts to stretch before Javy breaks it again.

"Have I been making you unhappy?"

"No. Not directly at least," You answer quickly, and it's not a lie. Javy himself is rarely the cause of your unhappiness.

"Indirectly then. And you have been unhappy?"

You think over his question and then start to think of a lie. You don't want to detail your feelings about this. Honesty would certainly lead to both your feelings being hurt more than necessary. You have been unhappy but in ways only of your own making. Wanting that which you could not have, fancying yourself a sort of Icarus.

"As much truth as you can spare me, please. Don't want to hear whatever lie you were just cooking up."

"It's more about the happiness we are cutting ourselves off from. The opportunities that we are missing."

The hold on the very neutral look Javy has been wearing slips, and he clenches his jaw hard. You are momentarily distracted by the flexing muscle, nearly forgetting the conversation at hand. The deep frown that pulls Javy's lips reorients your priorities, and you really wish this was a conversation that didn't have to happen face to handsome-distracting-gorgeous face.

"Is there someone else? Has Mrs. Machado's eye finally been caught after all these years?" Javy asks the questions more casually, curious than you are expecting. It does make you feel foolish to look for jealousy in his words. However, the idea of there being someone else is so funny you can't contain your dry chuckle.

"Our divorce is not a laughing matter!" Javy cries so indignantly it just makes you laugh harder. Then a few breaths later, his deep laugh intertwines with yours. It is not long until you are both breathless after the chuckles turned giggles turned howling. Javy is actively pushing away stray tears, and you are clutching your side, feeling a small stitch. Leaning back in his chair, he blows out a breath, sniffing in hard and breathing the air out in a measured way.

"Okay, well. This isn't something that can really happen today, is it?" Javy asks you.

"No. I guess not," you agree.

The corner of his right mouth quirks up then, and some of the severity eases on his face. "It's still valentines day then, and you're still my wife, so —" He trails off and reaches across the table, picking up an envelope that was sitting in the center, handing it to you. With shaky fingers, you open it. The card inside is almost more beautiful than any card Javy has ever given you. The front is covered in tasteful pastel hearts, gold foil, and your name. It's just as high quality as you knew it would be. You aren't sure where he has been buying these over the years but every card you have ever gotten from him is stunning. Seeing the inside filled with Javy's cramped writing with an extra sheet included almost moves you to tears, and you shove the card back in its envelope.

"I'll read that later," you mutter with a watery smile. Javy doesn't push you, which you are thankful for. Instead, he just holds out a hand, and you immediately grab it threading your fingers together.

"Will you be my valentine?" Javy asks you hopefully.

"Yes, of course, I will."

He grins, but it's not as wide as you would hope. There is still a clear air of somberness to him. "If you don't want to spend the day with me now I understand."

"Oh Javy, I'm so sorry. I should have thought through bringing this up to you much more than I did, including factoring in relevant holidays. Of course, I want to spend the day with you."

"No sweat, my Valentine. How about I finish cooking us breakfast then? I have the whole day planned, you know."

"Yes, I know," you say affectionately.

"Today's menu and itinerary can be found to your left," Javy informs you. His free hand gesturing to a small decorated chalkboard propped on the table. Then he lifts your joined hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of your palms. When he tries to detangle your fingers and stand from the table, but you stop him.

"Hold on. I have to go grab something."

"You already had papers drawn up?" He asks in a strained voice.

"No, I haven't. Let's set the divorce aside for the day okay?"

"That's a good idea," he agrees.

"I didn't completely forget about Valentine's Day. I just didn't remember this morning. Do you really think I would miss all the heart decorations all over the place? Or the 14 hearts you drew on the calendar." You ask him teasingly.

"Well, I don't want you to think you have to do anything."

"Javy," you sigh affectionately. Then telling him to stay put, you rush to your room and grab the wrapped gift youpicked out only days after new years. Coming back down, you excitedly plop the box in front of him on the table.

"This is so kind you didn't have to."

"I never mind doing anything for you Javy. Now stop delaying and opening it."

Obeying your command, he excitedly rips at the paper and into the box, searching for the gift. When he pulls it out, he smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, and everything is right again. "A candle of the month subscription?"

"I thought you might like it," you admit.

"With a wood wick," he sighs, opening the candle to smell it.

"And they let me put a list of all our no-no scents," you say.

"I love this, really. Thank you so much, sweetheart." Javy says while he reads over the little brochure that had been sent with the first candle.

"I'm so pleased you like it."

After that you finally allow Javy to finish cooking breakfast, making surprisingly easy conversation. It almost seems as if he truly has taken the temporary tabling of your divorce to heart. The day preceding light hearted and upbeat the rest of the morning, following the same patterns as years past.

You and Javy do have Valentine's traditions at this point, gifts, and the day spent together. The first Valentine’s you spent together he had made reservations at the fanciest restaurant in town weeks in advance. Only for the meal and service to be subpar, both of you agreeing Javy could have made something just as good if not better at home. In the years following, you two have still dressed up, but Javy makes the meal. Valentine's day is also one of the two days a year you are guaranteed kisses from Javy. He will drink too much wine, becoming affectionate and playful. Then he will pout about all the work he put into cooking, never in a way that makes you feel guilty. Huffing until you ask what he wants in repayment. Then Javy will always request the same thing. Each of the last four Valentine's days and all three of your wedding anniversaries, a kiss. It never stays at one kiss, but it has never been more than a heated make out session. It's something that neither of you ever brings up the next day.

You think it seems odd that you should make an exception to that tradition just because it's the last one. You hope that your foolishness of suggesting a divorcee on today of all days won't make an impact, but the more rational part of you knows it already has. Regardless, you still dress as nicely as you always do that evening for dinner.

The hallway into the kitchen and the kitchen itself are decorated with way too many mini candles to be considered wholly safe. The soft lighting is accented by the heavy aromas of Javy's cooking, making your mouth water slightly. Javy has a dress shirt on with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and has a towel thrown over his shoulder as he puts the final touches on some of the dishes. Glancing up as you enter the kitchen he freezes into place before straightening to his full height.

"You look beautiful," he utters, throwing the towel on a rack and striding across the kitchen to you.

"Oh come on Javy, don't make fun."

"I ain't making fun," Javy says, catching your hands and holding them tightly in his large warm palms. When he sees your disbelief, he repeats the words again, squeezing your hands urging you to believe him. With a breath, you accept his words the best you can. You had spent a lot of time deciding what to wear and were pleased with how the overall styling went.

"Thank you. You look very handsome. Are you an aviator or a model? We may never know."

"Why can't I be both?"

"Don't worry Coyote. I'm sure the day the Navy decides to do a shirtless Naval Aviator calendar you will be number one on their speed dial." Which makes him laugh as he pushes in your chair for you at the table. Then pressing a kiss to your forehead, he goes back to the kitchen.

"Callsigns at home, on Valentine's Day. Sweetheart, you are trying to break my heart." Javy teases, bringing over your plates. Paying him all his compliments due, You had only had the first few bites when Javy asks you a question that catches you off guard.

"What about health insurance?"

"What?" You splutter.

"What are you going to do for health insurance when we are divorced? You need that insurance, sweetheart."

"Javy, I thought we were leaving it."

"I can't leave it. I don't want a divorce. So, I'm sorry, but I can't leave it. Who's going to take you to your doctor's appointments? Where are you going to live? Am I moving, or you, or both of us? Are we selling the house?"

"I don't have it all figured out yet. It's something that we are going to have to do as we go along."

"I just don't understand what we would gain from this," Javy says, frustrated.

"Freedom!" You cry out, wishing you could find it in you to explain the twisting feeling, the dark and sad thoughts you had to endure in this marriage. Knowing you not only would never be enough but that you were less than. Your words make Javy stiffen like a board.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had entrapped you into this relationship," The words are biting, and you wish a conversation could ever go the way you were hoping.

"It's not like that," You tell him quickly. "Don't you want the freedom to choose to be with who you want? Don't you want to date and not have to awkwardly explain that you're married to your roommate?"

"So there is someone else?"

"No, just you Javy."

"Can you tell me what it is about me that you don't love?" He asks you in a quiet way. Javy's eyes drop down to his plate and you feel his knee bouncing quickly. Your mouth goes completely dry, and you scramble to sip some water from the glass set out. After a big gulp you still aren't sure how to answer. But then Javy's shoulders slump slightly, you see part of him crumble, and you crumble with it. He deserves honesty, maybe more than anyone else you know, because Javy is straightforward, ambitious, loyal, funny, kind, and you love him.

"That's the problem. There isn't anything about you that I don't love Javy. And god, you would think after nearly four years married to you, I would have found something not to love. I honestly think you are more wonderful now than when we first met."

Javy's eyebrows draw together, and he clearly is struggling to process your confession. Then he lets out a sigh of relief, "Thank god, this is wonderful news. I love you too."

"Javy you could do so much better than me. You should be with someone who is on your level."

He laughs. Javy laughs, and you wish you could manifest yourself out of existence. But then he is out of his chair and crowding in close to you, hooking a finger under your chin lifting it so that you can no longer avoid his gaze. "Sweetheart, there is no one better than you."

Then slowly, so slowly, he leans in and catches your lips in a gentle kiss. A kiss before wine, and before a drawn out preamble. It was a kiss because Javy loved you with no other pretenses involved. He pulls away, and you suck in a heaving breath. His eyes study yours intently, and he leans in for another kiss. Meeting him halfway you wrap your arms around his neck, awkwardly pulling him closer while deepening the kiss.

Javy looms over you, and the angle makes your chair squeak shifting backward, trying to take the shifted weight. You are saved from falling completely thanks to your arms and his that instinctually wrapped around your waist. Once you are both steady on your feet and the danger of falling has passed, you meet Javy's eyes while biting your lip to keep the giggles in. He looks in a similar state of mirth, not able to stop smiling even as he presses kisses to your face.

"Do you know how hard it's been? Blissful torture every day of our marriage. Able to have you here, to see you, but not allowed to touch. And I have wanted to touch you for so long."

"Where do you want to touch Javy?"

"Oh everywhere sweetheart," he says roughly. His hands drifting from your waist over your ass and then starting to trace the shape of your thighs in slow appreciation. Just when you are finally getting to appreciate Javy's tongue against yours, his phone rings. He pulls away from you with a pained groan, glaring across the room. His phone is set on the furthest away counter that it can be practically tucked away. You know Javy would have had the phone turned off and tucked away if he was allowed. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he strides quickly across the room and picks up the phone.

"This is Lieutenant Machado," The tone is stark and official. His eyes haven't moved from you, though. Then a tick forms in his jaw, and he grits out, "Hangman, are you serious? It's Valentine's Day. I care about you, but unless this is life or death, I'm spending the night in bed with my wife." Hearing who it was that called, you follow Javy into the kitchen. Sliding up to him, you slot yourself into his side, draping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer.

"In bed with M&M?!" You hear Jake start to yell, but you are taking the phone from Javy.

"Seresin, don't call back through do not disturb unless it's a real emergency," you mutter into the receiver before hanging up. Javy's lips are tracing your neck less than a breath later.

"What was this you mentioned about bed?" You ask Javy.

"Do you want to get in one with me, like right now?"

"Yes, please," you agree breathily. You hand Javy his phone, and he tucks it in his pocket, clearly displeased by the device's proximity.

"I hate being on call."

You are pulling him in the direction of his room just because it is closer before you can let any further idea of work enter his head. Entering the room, you both practically scramble to undress each other. Javy whines while reminding you that his shirt is Armani, and he wants to keep all the buttons when you fumble opening them. You roll your eyes but slow down and take care not to ruin one of your husband's favorite shirts.

"I think about these pretty lips every single day," Javy tells you. He kisses you again, but it's more tender than you expect. When he pulls away, he smiles.

"I think about how pretty they are when you smile and all the ways that they could touch me. What they feel like against my lips. How they would feel wrapped around my cock." Javy's thumb starts to trace your lower lip, and you suck it into your mouth, gliding the tip of your tongue against the pad. Inhaling sharply, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, to your disappointment.

"I think about touching your tits all the time." Javy pivots while grabbing a handful of your breast and squeezing, taking the opportunity to unhook your bra. You help him slide the straps off your shoulders, and he takes a moment to admire your breasts. Then dipping down to kiss them as well. Urging you to lay back on the bed, once you are lying down with Javy's eyes raking over your form, you start to feel self-conscious. Even as he pulls your panties off and starts kissing your legs. You cross your legs and do your best to cover yourself. His intense gaze nearly making want to reach for the throw blanket that is on the end of the bed. The sight of Javy's chiseled chest and cut edges reminds you of your soft edges and curves, the thought that you are ill matched flooding your brain.

"Now Mrs. Machdo. That is not how things go in this bedroom. But don't you worry, I'm here to teach you." Javy tsks at you. Javy grabs an ankle in each large hand, pulling you toward the end of the bed. Then completely unabashed, he stares at your pussy. You try to close your legs again, but Javy's hands on your ankles prevent you from doing so. Kneeling down, he presses soft kisses to your legs and the inside of your thighs.

"I'm going to take my time with you," he tells you, kissing up your legs. He bypasses your sex, instead kissing your stomach. As he is teasing one of your nipples, you dare to touch him back, letting your fingers dance over the shape of his arms and then across his strong shoulders. It's an exploration you have dreamed of many times, but the soft smoothness of his skin is better. When Javy has paid attention to both nipples and leaves a mark you know will blossom into a hickey near your collar bone he is kissing you again. With one of his strong thighs in between your legs, you push against it trying to seek some friction and relief from your burning arousal. Pulling your lips away from his.

"Javy, I want you now," you gasp, pouting. Squirming against his thigh, you trace your hands down his back with the full intention of pushing down his briefs. Instead though, he is easing himself back down your body and kneeling on the side of the bed.

"No Ma'am. I'm going to do everything I wanted to on our wedding night when we should have consummated this marriage." Javy starts tracing your skin again, peppering kisses where he sees fit. You jump slightly at the feeling but quickly relax. Even though you two have not ever been intimate, that doesn't mean that you aren't comfortable with him in almost every other way. It feels surprisingly easy to take this new step, to be pressed together. You had always thought it might not be there, a physical spark, that maybe you were compatible with Javy in every other way. However, the moment Javy's tongue meets your clit, and he is the one who moans first, the doubt largely vanishes from your mind; it's so evident he desires you too.

While licking your clit Javy traces a finger along your lips, occasionally dipping into you, but the whole action is teasing. Just when he edges the length of his finger inside you, he kisses your thighs. When he licks your clit in firm strokes, he starts to edge his finger out of you. It's building you up but also making you feel like there is no end in sight.

"Javy, I need you now," you beg again.

"It's too soon." He tells you, lifting his head and pulling his mouth off you, and you nearly cry at the loss. "I have to warm you up baby, or it will hurt."

It will hurt, Javy claims, and the thought of his dick being big enough that is something he worries about sends another wave of arousal rushing through you. Married three years, you had seen the delicious outline of it in boxers, briefs, grey sweatpants, and towels, and even now, you still haven't seen all of him.

"Now, please," you whine.

"Prove you can take my fingers, and then we will see," Javy tells you, attempting to compromise with a teasing lit. He only has one finger in you, and you buck against it, seeking more. When he teases another at your entrance, you shift taking that finger as far as your position will allow. Sighing contently when with the stretch, feeling more full. As you clench around his thick fingers, Javy grunts out a low moan, speeding his digits and occasionally scissoring you wider open.

"What about a third?" He asks eventually. The idea sends another wave of arousal through you. As you clench around his fingers, Javy hums against your clit. Gasping desperately, you fist your hands in his forest green quilt. Javy doesn't actually indulge you in a third finger but continues to tease your entrance like he might. His tongue drags against your clit, and the wet sounds of the whole act making you clench harder around his fingers.

"Please, just fuck me. Please, Javy."

"You think I'm going to fuck you before you cum on my tongue? You're so silly, sweetheart. I'm taking my sweet time with you. I have so much to make up for," Javy nips playfully at your inner thigh. You hum at the contact spreading your knees and legs a little wider to accommodate Javy's broad shoulders. Flattening his tongue to give you a broader stroke and occasionally licking around his fingers. You feel dripping at the combination of your own juices and his spit. It's teasing and playful, a pattern you're starting to notice with him.

Nearing an orgasm, you try to grind harder on Javy's tongue, but when you do he teases a third finger again. The push for new fullness drags you back from the edge. Teetering there, you try to figure out if another one of his fingers will enter you. When he curls it away, you groan lowly. Javy stops sucking at your clit and turns his face back to pillow on your thigh. You can feel his smirk against your skin. You weren't prepared for this kind of edging, and the desperation feels nearly raw and beyond just needy.

"Please, Javy. Do I need to beg more? Do you want me to cry? Or—" you trail off, hoping that he will fill the blank for you. You are willing to give him whatever he wants; you just don't know what that is yet. Navigating sex is always something a little awkward with a new partner. It feels an extra layer of odd because you know Javy, and have known him for years. You know that the smallest glance with a squeeze of your hand means he wants to leave a party. You know when he spends too long at the gym by the slightly slower pace he walks. You know the soup to make him when he has a cold and tries to hide it from you. You know Javy. Suddenly having a situation where you are unsure feels foreign and uncomfortable.

Javy sits back more on his calves so he can better gauge your reactions. "I want to rock your world. I want to ruin every other man for you. I want my name to be the only one you know. I want you to be mine and only mine. Sweetheart, you are all I want."

"You already have all those things," you reassure him. Propping yourself on your elbows so you can meet his gaze. Even heavy with lust, his eyes still make you feel warm and safe. A small genuine smile lifts on his lips, then grows into a splitting grin that makes his eyes crinkle.

"You've been so good and giving for me Mrs. Machado. About time I give back to you ain't it?" He asks, peppering more kisses all over your legs. His fingers resume pumping into you steadily, and he is purposeful in how he drags them along your inner walls. "I want one more thing, though."

"Anything Javy. Anything."

"I want you to cum for me whenever you're ready. I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything you want, baby." Javy isn't teasing this time. He starts to work you over again with his lips sealed around your clit. He sucks while also tracing hard twisting strokes of his tongue. His digits maintain a steady speed, but they are fucking into you harder, and he continues to curl them, occasionally dragging over your walls. Arching further to the edge of the bed, Javy's arm lays across your hips, holding you down so he can grind his tongue against you harder.

"Don't stop," you beg, and this time he listens. It takes a few more pumps of his fingers, and you are tumbling over the edge. Your pussy spasming around his fingers. Javy moans, and the vibrations travel right through you, extending your orgasm and making your hips stutter before falling all the way down to the bed. Closing your eyes tightly with short breaths, it takes you several moments to come back to your body. When you finally feel yourself, you find Javy on the bed with you resting with his head on your tummy. As your brain starts working, you try to push Javy's head away, but he resists snuggling further into you.

"Javy," you start to say, not sure how to explain to him your insecurities.

"Thank you, baby. That was so good. You are so beautiful," he says, mouthing little kisses near your belly button and up your chest.

"I love that you're so soft," he mutters, almost in awe. One of his hands squeezes your side, and the other graces over your lower belly. Javy presses his lips to your breasts and sucks a nipple. You keen under him. Using your knees to urge him that much further up your body so you can kiss Javy, tasting the hint of yourself on his tongue still. Once he knows that you don't mind your own taste he deepens the kiss and rolls you both to be less perilously positioned on the end of the bed.

"Will you fuck me now?" Javy is nodding, but not as enthusiastically as you expect him to. So you ask him hesitantly, "Or we can do other stuff?"

"I really want to make love to you, but."

"But?" You ask. Groaning, Javy slides to lay next to you, hiding his face in your chest. You run your fingers across the shaved prickly skin at the base of his skull, patiently waiting.

"I'm worried I'll cum too fast. I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

You make no attempt to stop the burst of tenderness and love you feel at his small confession sharing vulnerability. Then in the kindest voice, you say, "that's okay. It doesn't really matter to me. As long as you enjoy yourself, that's what matters."

Lifting his face from your chest, the look Javy gives you is horrified and a little offended. Immediately he starts jumping into explanation, "To start, fuck no. That is not what matters. Like I said, I don't want you to think that I'm always quick to cum. I've just wanted this for so long, and I spent so much time putting everything together today that I didn't even jack off in the shower. My second round of the day is always so much longer, I promise."

"Javy, thank you. I promise this isn't going to change my thoughts or feelings about you. Okay? And a second round sounds great to me. We have to get through the first, though."

"Okay," he says with a sigh. Javy stands off the bed again, and you take the opportunity to scooch further back against the headboard. You watch, entranced, as he finally peels his briefs off; Coyote’s cock is mouthwatering. You aren't at all ashamed of the small gasping moan that falls from your throat.

"How do you want me?" You ask him as he crawls back up the bed. You stare at his body, suddenly overcome with the urge to trace over every single inch of him with your tongue.

"How do you want me, beautiful?" He fires back in an easy tone.

"Missionary?" You suggest. Nodding his head enthusiastically to your suggestion. Settling in between your thighs and you have to widen your knees to accommodate his broad frame.

"Fuck yes, I want to be in this pretty pussy and able to see your pretty face too."

He wasn't lying when he told you that he was big, and as he starts to push in, you are appreciative that he took his time with foreplay. Being stuffed so full of him leaves you gasping, and your mind keeps repeating better. This is better than you ever thought it would be. He is better than you always knew he would be.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?"

"So good. I'm so full of you Javy. I want more."

Taking your permission, he starts rocking into you at a steady pace. With one arm, he anchors himself against the headboard gripping it tightly, then his free hand traces your face. You can tell Javy is trying to hold himself back and take things slow for the sake of his ego. You start to meet his thrusts lifting your hips a bit more to get a better angle. Javy's hand falls from your face to your ass, helping support you. The steady pace starts to increase to a hot frantic tempo. He moans your name brokenly, and you grab his ass, trying to urge him even closer to chase his pleasure. His hips start to stutter, and panting he slips out of you. His hand lets you go to give his cock a few harsh jerks, and Javy cums on your chest. He is frozen like that for a moment before rolling to your side with a wide grin on his face.

"You could have cum inside. We are married, you know." You tease Javy. He stops breathing momentarily, and you turn your head to see him better. Despite having just cum, his eyes are still heavy with lust, and when he does take a breath again, it's a little ragged.

"We've never really discussed that and should have used protection anyways. I'm sorry." Javy hasn't even finished the apology when you drag your finger across some of the cum on your chest. Delicately you swipe your tongue across your finger, tasting him. Javy groans low in his chest, turning to lie flat on his back and his face in the crook of his elbow. You hum happily, the power you have over him intoxicating to a degree.

"You're right. That's definitely something we need to talk about, but next time…" You wait for Javy' to remove his elbow and look at you again. He does peek at you a few seconds later. "I want you to come inside me. I want to feel you dripping down my thighs. I want you to fill me up."

Javy's mouth falls open, and his eyes are so dark you feel like you could get lost in them. He is surging forward then and kissing you. It's a dirty and quick tangle of tongues. Then he pulls away and starts mouthing at your throat. "Do you want to be stuffed with my cum, baby?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Machado," you say cheekily.

"Fuck. You drive me a little crazy," he warns you lowly as you move to straddle him. You can tell he is still sensitive, but his dick is already starting to thicken again. You settle on his thigh instead, deciding that you could be patient waiting for him. You rock against his thighs for the smallest bit of stimulation just to start you going again. Javy watches you, completely captivated.

"You being a good girl and waiting for me? Just give me a few minutes."

"I've been waiting three years. I can wait a little while longer to be full of your cum," you tell him, but it comes out as a whine like you're trying to convince yourself that's true. Javy settles a hand on your hip, giving you a small bit of encouragement to grind against him harder.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, sweetheart. No more though. I've got you now. I promise. I've got you." He repeats gently. His sweet and caring tone only makes the desperation in you burn higher. Shaking your head at him, unable to form the words explaining how you are feeling. Instead, you drop your eyes down to look at your chest again. You thought you would feel a little more peeved at the feeling of his cum drying against your skin. Rather, you just find more you can scoop into your mouth. The fact that his dick isn't in your mouth feels criminal.

Taking a moment to not just admire him but also strategize. Javy has a long cock, and you know you wouldn't be able to take all of him down without practice and working your way up to it. Something that definitely wouldn't be happening tonight. However, then the taste of his cum isn't enough, and neither is just looking. You slide further down his thigh; your own pleasure is lost in the haze of this need.

It's a more burning type of relief to have your mouth on him. You give the head a few soft licks, vaguely wondering how different he will taste when he hasn't already been in you. Javy lets out another shuddering moan. You want to lift your head in order to take in his features, but you are too absorbed in the feeling of his cock in your mouth. Javy clearly doesn't mind as you set about tracing his length. After a thorough exploration, one of your hands joins the mix, appreciating his shape and how heavy his dick is in your hand.

Sucking Javy until he is fully hard again, you become braver, daring to take more of him in your mouth. Bobbing slightly and sucking, letting your hand make up for the rest. However, just as you start to feel pleased with your rhythm, Javy gently pulls you off him, cooing when you whine.

"Baby. Baby stop. It's okay. Take a breath. That was so amazing. You are so fucking amazing."

"I hope it was okay. I might be a little out of practice," you admit to him shyly. Your lusty haze ebbing, you trace the lines of his chest but don't want to meet his eyes. Surely he hadn't been expecting you to be this much during your first time together.

"You're doing so good, sweetheart. I love you, and I love this," he reassures you. You shimmy up to straddle him again, lightly dragging your dripping cunt over him. Javy's cock is pressed hotly between your thighs, spreading your lips while nudging against your clit. You rock along him, wanting that friction while bracing against his chest, leaning down to kiss him.

"I love you too," you mutter against his lips. When Javy shifts his hips in tandem with yours, catching your entrance and then sliding past it, you're spurred into action. "I need you in me, Javy."

"I ain't stopping nothing, but are you sure you are okay?"

You don't answer him directly; instead, you reach between you to grab his cock and guide it to your entrance. Leaning back for a better angle, you slide down his whole length. You are taken aback, letting out a sharp almost pained gasp. Having already accommodated him inside once tonight, you didn't expect to still feel the slight burning stretch of his girth now. Once you adjust riding Javy is a dream. Praise spills out of his mouth along with the most delicious sounds. It's a great angle that makes you feel incredibly full. Your thighs start to burn when you stop the slow grinding and transition to you bouncing quickly on his dick. You hope the increased pace, paired with the snapping of Javy's hips, would get you there. However, it's still not enough. Not even when Javy brings his thumb up to circle your clit in strong consistent strokes. Although you are nearly in tears, Javy looks perfectly content like this is exactly what he wants.

"Javy," you cry high pitched, completely ceasing your movements. Even though you froze, he doesn't. Javy's hips continue lifting up fucking into you, and his thumb doesn't falter either. You take a moment to just feel it, and savor the moment. Then tiredly you slump down against his chest. A few thrusts later, you bite Javy's peck hard. He doesn't complain as he runs one of his hands down your back and squeezes your ass, chucking.

"What do you need, sweet girl?" He asks you. You bite him again, licking one at his nipple before nibbling it too. That rewards you with an extra hard thrust from Javy.

"I don't know," you admit, frustrated. The constant stimulation makes you burn hotter and is tantalizing, but it doesn't give you any push to the final release. Javy completely stops moving but stays hilted in you. His hands urge you to sit up, and he holds your gaze steadily.

"It's okay. We always figure things out together, don't we? This isn't any different."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, of course. Now tell me how you are feeling. Tell me what you like."

"I really like you. I love you Javy. And I've been thinking about this for so long."

"I've been dreaming about it too. I can't believe neither of us said anything sooner."

"I couldn't ever tell you."

"I wish you had. Why didn't you?"

"We both know you're out of my league, Javy. I never thought that you would want me back." He makes a pained sound hearing your admission.

"I'm not out of your league, and I've always wanted you back from the beginning. Okay?" You feel a little frustrated that he doesn't see or understand what you're saying, and if he wasn't literally still inside you, it might have been possible to press the issue. Right now, though, you know your insecurities could be tabled to another day.

"Okay."

"Good," Javy mutters, slipping out of you with a wet sound. "Let's try a different position. Does that sound okay, sweetheart?"

"Okay, we can try that," you say with a shrug.

Then with little effort, he gently manhandles you off him into a new position. Your front is pressed to the bed ass up for him, and Javy helps slide a pillow under you for better support. Kissing down the length of your spine. He asks twice if you're comfortable, taking his time pushing into you. It's a good position, allowing Javy to fuck into you harder than before. Your biggest complaint is the loss of being able to appreciate his handsome features.

In between telling you how good you are and just how wet and perfect your pussy is, Javy asks if he can spank you. It's a suggestion that has you biting your lip and agreeing hesitantly. It's not even a hard spank against your ass, just enough for a slight sting. The sharpness in contrast with how deliciously you're being filled, has your back arching. With a few more spanks, all of which you can tell Javy is holding back for, you feel close to an orgasm again.

"I'm getting close," you warn him.

"Going to give you every last drop, sweetheart. I'm going to make sure you're so full of me. I really want to feel you cum, though. Can you do that? Will you cum for me, Mrs. Machado?" Javy finally gives attention to your neglected clit again, and you know it's only a matter of time. Every time he bottoms out and gives your pulsating bundle of nerves a tweak, you feel yourself teetering.

"Call me that again," you request, relishing the way it falls off his lips more than nearly any of the other times he's said it in the past.

"Mrs. Machado," he repeats. "My wife, my girl, my love. Mrs. Machado, I want you to cum now."

With an extra hard press of his thumb, you're cumming. The heat that had been building in your abdomen bursts flooding bliss through your limbs. Crying out his name and fluttering around his cock, your legs start to spasm too. Coyote keeps fucking you, though, a little harder, a bit more selfishly chasing his own release.

"Javy, fill me up now," you demand, turning your head as much as you can to watch him. His pace falters at your request but immediately picks up again.

"Yes ma'am," Javy gasps. Speeding up so fast and hard, you feel a twinge against your cervix at the abuse. Just as you think you are going to have to tell him to be more gentle with you, Javys hips stutter. Holding himself entirely in you, his hands gripping your hips so hard you won't be shocked to find bruises later, he finally fills you up. You clench purposely around his length, wanting to help him milk his orgasm as long as possible. The warm spreading feel of his seed in you makes you sigh happily, and the boneless tired feeling after a good orgasm hits you like a truck.

Javy lays down on the bed, his breath still coming out in short pants. Immediately you cuddle closer to him, turning to lay your head on his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you even closer to him. As his breaths even out, he starts kissing you slowly, hands cluching you tighter to his chest.

"Come closer, sweetheart," he requests quietly. Part of you wouldn't be surprised if Javy will ever think you are close enough to him again now that he's been inside you, but most of you relishes that concept. You scoot even closer, more than half laying on his chest, pressing as much of your skin together as feasible.

Later after one of the most tender intimate showers of your life, you are snuggled into Javy's bed with fresh sheets, trying to pick out a sappy Valentine's Day movie to watch. Javy had brought the extra pillows in your room, so you could make an extra area for movie cuddles. You are still scrolling when he comes back into the room with a plate of reheated dinner. Ravenous from skipping dinner and the following activities, you grin widely seeing the food.

"You are the most amazing man to ever walk this earth, Javy Machado." You tell him, patting the spot you left for him next to you.

"Sweetheart, you'll give me an ego if you keep talking to me like that." Javy expertly balances the plate and nestles in close. "Please tell me more," He says cheekily, pressing a kiss casually to your lips. You have to take a full minute to process that's a thing that can just happen now. So you lean a little more of your weight into him, and seek out Javy's lips again, simply because you want to and can.

'Well, no one cooks like you do."

"Yeah?"

"And no one gives as good cuddles as you do."

"I think that one's actually about you because you are the most comfortable and soothing person I have ever met. Of course it turns me into a snuggle monster." You laugh at him, and he casually throws an arm over your shoulder. He feeds you a small bite in off the plate before taking one himself. However, he doesn't seem overly invested in it like you expect.

"You ate a plate in the kitchen, didn't you?" You guess and feel Javy stop breathing.

"That maybe could have happened. I'm sorry sweetheart, I was so hungry." Javy adopts an exaggeratedly apologetic face sticking out his lower lip pleadingly.

"I guess, I could be convinced to forgive you."

"Oh, I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness."

"How about breakfast in bed tomorrow," you suggest casually.

"Absolutely, whatever you want. Quiche? Waffles? Omelettes? Croissants?"

"That all sounds good, but I was thinking of something else."

"Really? And what do you want to have, sweetheart?" He asks curiously.

"The only thing I had on the menu was you," You tell him cheekily. His eyes widen a little, and his teeth dig into his lower lip. He kisses your neck sweetly, nosing under your jaw. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

"Marry me?"

Finding his joke funny, you laugh lightly, playfully tapping your elbow into his side. Javy remains quiet and serious, though. When he doesn't respond, you set the plate aside, so it has no danger of spilling and turn to face him more fully. You are sure that he is waiting for that to reveal his mirth, but his eyes are just as serious as his tone.

"Javy, we are already married." You say, chuckling again.

"Marry me, again." He requests earnestly. Taking your hand in his, he gently pulls off your wedding band, holding it out like an offering. You pluck the ring back from him, sliding it into place on your finger. A smile breaks out on his face following your movement. Then you place that same hand on his face, holding him so he wouldn't be able to avoid your eyes.

"No. We are not going to get remarried." Javy pouts, and before he can reach true sadness, you lean forward to kiss him again. "But we can throw a really nice party if you want."

And when you two do finally get around to throwing a big old party, most of the room is confused about why exactly you and Javy are exchanging vows. However, absolutely no one is surprised when Javy produces seven cramped front-to-back sheets of paper of written vows when it's his turn.

#javy machado x reader #coyote x reader #Javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x you #coyote x you #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #carnal for coyote #hot hot hot!#hot 🥵#bones hearts and marriges

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davosmymaster · 2 years

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Triggers

A/N - This should also be warning: this fic is purely self-indulgent. I’ve written some of my own personal experiences in it as both a plus-size person and what people call “a late bloomer”. I try to give as little (and general) physical descriptions as I can for the reader, so you can read it however you like and this is not specifically a plus size!reader or anything. I think many people will identify with the reader in this, but if you think it can bother you please do not read. There are no talks of body image or eating (as you can check in the warnings). I had to give names to some original characters, though, because I don’t personally like the (yourfriend’sname) thingy.

Basically, I just had this idea and had to write it. Here it is. Hope you enjoy. (If you see a typo or something doesn’t make sense, remember English is not my first language no you didn’t)

TAGS AND WARNINGS - +18, Minors DNI, oral sex, p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, safewords (mentioned), dom/sub dynamics (kind of), spit kink, cunnilingus, light bdsm (i think), hurt/comfort, bullying (mentioned), fighting with friends.

PAIRINGS - Jake Lockley x fem!reader

WORD COUNT - 6.4k

SUMMARY - At the wedding of one of your high school best friends, you're asked about your singleness. You snap back, revealing some painful truths. Six months later, Jake Lockley disagrees with every word you said, and makes a personal commitment to let you know how wrong you are, every day, for as long as he breathes.

TRIGGERS

One of your friends is getting married.

You're happy for them, really, you are. They are a lovely couple. She's very much in love with him, and it's obvious by the way that he's looking at her when he says "I do" that he loves her just as much. They've been dating for five years now, and engaged for two of them.

So why do you feel that constant ache in your chest?

Your invitation said to bring a plus one, but you don't have a partner and all your closest friends, both men and women, were already invited to the wedding. They have all brought a companion, either their significant other —most of them— or someone they are already dating but not quite. You can't help but frown at that last group, you are not sure you could cope with the instability of not knowing if you can make plans for the future with the person you love in case they decide to leave you tomorrow. No strings attached because, hey, you two were nothing.

But you're no one to judge, not like you're doing it either way. And even if you did, they'd probably laugh it off because you've never dated anyone, and it'd be just a further embarrassment for your persona.

In the end, you're the only one who's actually single at the celebration. You had hoped the groom brought some single friends of his. Not like you wanted to flirt with them, it was more a matter of not feeling like a weirdo; but the closest to being single you can find there is a man in his late twenties who's already filling up divorce papers, according to your friends. And that fact only makes you feel worse about yourself. He didn't come alone either, after all.

There's one friend of yours, her name is Ava. She broke up with her boyfriend of four years like two months ago; so you sort of expected her to be in your very same situation. It wasn't a clean breakup. But she also came with someone and your eyebrows shoot up to the sky when you see her new girlfriend.

"Who is that?" you ask another of your high school friends.

"I think her name is Lottie," Olivia replies. "They're not official yet, though. But they've been seeing each other and she looks quite happy."

You hum in response, wondering how on Earth people move on so quickly; especially after a four-year hiatus from the dating world.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she announces, gently stroking her fiancé's arm before leaving the table. Her high heels dig circles on the green grass as she walks. The sun is unusually bright for a spring day in Surrey, and you hope your foundation doesn't melt before the pictures are taken. "Wanna come?" she asks.

You nod and follow her inside.

The first thing she does once she gets in is checking no one's inside. You had already thought that maybe she wanted to talk somewhere private. After all, you've known her for many years now and she's one of your best friends. You lock the door.

"I just think it's impressive how quickly she moved on, to be honest," you say, because you can sense that's exactly what she intended to talk about. "Of course, I'm happy for her-"

"What else did you expect her to do? Cry for two months?" she chuckles, although her tone is not necessarily friendly. She checks her makeup in the mirror and reapplies some of it. Yours is intact, and thank lord it is because you didn't even bring a lipstick. "You know, people don't usually waste time."

You look at yourself in the mirror, wondering for a second if you heard correctly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She sighs audibly and puts her lipstick in her purse. Now she takes some compact powder and gently presses it into her skin. You might ask for it later. Not if the conversation goes in the direction you think it's going.

"I'm just saying that, well- it's time to start your dating life, don't you think?" she says. "I mean, I don't want to be rude, and we've talked about this before. But we're not teenagers anymore, and you've never had half the experiences most of us had in our teenage years."

Her words throw you off balance. She's maybe partially right, and she's touching on a subject that you're too sensitive about. She did say she didn't want to be rude, though. And she's been your friend for a while now, so you don't want to get upset right away.

"I've had no luck," you say, leaning back on the sink and crossing your arms, not without making sure it is dry first.

"See, that's where you're wrong," she says, pointing at you with an accusatory finger. "You're waiting for your knight in shining armour, just waiting. You don't flirt with guys, don't go to pubs-"

"I do go to pubs, sometimes."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Once in a blue moon," she says, and you shrug your shoulders. It's not like you're the kind of person to go to pubs every weekend, but you wouldn't say you go 'once in a blue moon', you just have other hobbies than spending every single Saturday and Sunday of your life being hangover, but you do like partying. Plus, it's not like the guys who go there are waiting to put a ring on your finger. "What I'm saying is- you can't expect Mr Right to just appear out of nowhere, and obviously you can't have extremely high standards-"

"So I should settle with the first person that comes my way. Is that what you're saying?"

She chuckles under her breath, obviously annoyed.

"I'm not saying that, but maybe you should not tell them to fuck off when said guy tries to hang out with you."

You know exactly what she's talking about, and your blood boils. Not long ago she gave your number to one of her fiancè's friends. So it did take you by surprise when this man you didn't know sent you a text. He was nice at the beginning, which was the first two days that he texted you non-stop. He got upset for late-replying even when you told him you were busy, working, which was not a lie. Then he texted you at midnight, asking if you wanted to attend some party, and when you refused because of how late it was, he said.

"What are you? Cinderella? You have to be home at twelve?"

He obviously just wanted you for one thing. There's no decent man who asks for a first date at midnight, and even if you wanted to keep it casual, you wouldn't have accepted just because of the way he spoke to you.

"Did you even listen when I told you what he did?" you ask her.

"Yes, and I don't see why you didn't go, honestly," she answers. "You could have had a good time, danced a bit and talked to him. Get to know each other."

"At midnight, half-drunk."

"Yes," she almost shouts. "He could've had different intentions, but you'll never know- No, let me talk," she says, once you try to interrupt. So you reluctantly let her speak. "You can't reject everyone from the start, because no one is up to your standards, and then cry because you've never had a relationship before. Even in high school we were all flirting with guys while you stayed in the corner. Don't you think it's time to grow up?"

By the time she's done, your jaw is hanging from your face. Half of you expected something along the lines of what she just said, but you didn't think Olivia could be that cruel; especially when she knows how much it hurts you to talk about this.

"Are you done?"

"I guess," she responds, putting away all her makeup.

You bite your lower lip first, trying to regain your breath as you find yourself suddenly running out of air.

"You've never thought for a single second that all the people you guys flirted with in high school, were the same people who bullied me?"

She snorts, annoyed, and whispers. "Oh, you're gonna start with that."

"Yes, I am, actually," you respond. Your teeth are so clenched that your jaw is starting to hurt. "Because while you were out there succeeding with your love life, having any guy you wanted, Ava's first boyfriend was rating me minus five in the rank of the prettiest girls at school.

"I was always the fat friend, or the flat one. Sometimes both. Guys, even now, only get my number to ask me for your number. And in the rare occasions when guys don't completely ignore my presence while talking to you, or Ava, or any of the rest, I find out that they were only hitting on me because they thought I was the best they could hope for. And I used to fall for that, but not anymore. I've never been called pretty, or any other nice words. No one has ever bought me a shot. So stop, stop talking as if finding a semi-decent human being is just so fucking easy."

Olivia just holds your gaze, but you can tell she doesn't believe one word of what you're saying.

"That's your problem," she says. "You always victimize yourself, so much. And that's just bullshit. Worst of all is you believe you're doing the right thing. I really do feel for you."

That's enough to plant a seed of doubt in your mind. But that happens later, once you're alone in your flat, back in London. At that exact moment, you don't think of anything as you just stand there, tears pricking in your eyes as she takes her purse, unlocks the door and leaves you there, completely alone.

Luckily —or not— it's not the first time you've had this conversation with one of your friends, so you already know she's the one who's wrong. And there's nothing you need to change about yourself or the way you act. And thank God you don't, because barely two weeks later, you meet Jake Lockley for the first time. And it doesn’t take you long to meet his alters, either, and fall for every single one of them, the same way they do for you.

Needless to say, you don't talk to your friend anymore. Not at the wedding, and certainly not after.

Six months later

You're bent over the kitchen table. Air has been knocked out of your lungs with the impact, and you're unable to regain it back as an open palm between your shoulder blades keeps you firmly pressed against the wooden board. You gasp like a fish out of water, and thank whatever gods out there that the man above you seems not to be too concerned about how ridiculous you look in that position.

As a rule of thumb, your boyfriend Jake hates quickies. If someone were to ask him on the street what bothers him the most in this world, you're ninety-nine per cent sure he would respond 'quickies', with the most straight face anyone has ever seen on this earth. Not the London traffic, not even how hard it is to find a parking spot for his thirty feet long limousine in the city. No, what bothers him most is not having enough time to fuck you; and the worst of all is that he doesn't mince words. If someone asked him, that's his honest answer.

That's one of the things that you both fear the most and find the most admirable about Jake Lockley. He has no shame, not one single drop of it in his whole body. He does not care a single fuck what anyone has to say about him. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't envy him for that.

"Uhm..." he lets out a low groan from the depths of his chest.

His other hand, the one that is not holding you in place, travels down your right leg. The pads of his fingers brush your skin gently, an almost ghostly touch as he makes his way back from the back of your knee, up to your thigh until he reaches the tender skin of your glute. All the muscles of your body tighten as you wait for a spank that never comes. Instead, Jake chuckles behind you. He relieves the pressure on your back as he uses both his hands to lift your dress, the fabric now all rolled up around your hips.

"Oh, look at you," you hear him say.

Not a single second later you feel the denim of his jeans over your cotton panties, his erection impossibly hard behind it, and you can't help but bite your lip and moan as he grinds himself against you. The pleasure blooming down there forces you to press your hips against him too, and you soon find yourself on your tiptoes.

"Jake..." you groan. "We don't have much time, hun."

He lets out an annoyed grunt.

"Joder... (Fuck...)" he mumbles in Spanish. "I hate quickies."

"It's the third time you say that today."

He really does hate them. He doesn't see the point of fucking if by the time he's done you're not absolutely destroyed under him. He's that type of man; all or nothing is his motto. He doesn't know how to keep it easy. He likes the sight of round fat tears clinging to your wet lashes, even the salty flavour of them on his tongue when he kisses you. He loves to edge you, overstimulate you to the point of exhaustion and rage, until all you can see is red and he has to make you cum before you gather any strength and use it to kick him in the balls for not letting you cum sooner.

Sometimes it's the opposite, he works your body up, plays it like an instrument that he's proficient in, dragging so many orgasms out of you that you have to beg him to stop.

And then he laughs.

But he cannot do all of that now. In fact, sex wasn't even in the cards for today, having in mind that you had stayed the night before in his flat and you were still sore from that session. The trails of yellow and purple hickeys on your inner thighs are the only proof of his merciless, sinful actions.

All of that was true until he saw you all dressed up, ready to leave the flat to attend a theatre play that starts in forty-five minutes. At first, it had been even fun to watch how Jake's jaw dropped to the floor, how he kept looking and looming over you time and time again, his eyes slipping up and down your figure, taking in the black dress you were wearing. He had the look of a hungry hawk when he approached you, and you immediately knew what was about to happen.

The left side of your brain told you not to let him, that you'd be late for the play. But then he leant in to kiss you, mouth open and his heavy tongue against your own, and there was no amount of willpower that could have prevented the scene that was about to unfold.

Behind you, Jake kneels on the floor. He catches the hem of your panties between his teeth as he goes down. You only know it because you can feel his ragged, hot breath against your skin as he bites the fabric. Once it passes your hips, he lets them fall to the ground. Then he bites your cheek.

It doesn't hurt, but a little cry comes out of your throat nonetheless, and without even taking a glimpse of his face you can tell that he's amused; the biggest wicked grin on his face. People hardly ever see Jake smiling, but that's only because none of them have seen him during sex.

"Jake," your angry tone does not go unnoticed, and you're now supporting your weight on your elbows. "We paid a lot for those tickets, I refuse to be late."

He groans.

"Isn't there another show later?" he asks, but that doesn't stop him from massaging your glutes, his thumbs on both sides of your groin as he pulls the skin of your inner thighs aside to have a better look at your glistening folds. "...for god's sake."

You don't know if that last sentence is directed at you, or not.

Before you can ask he's licking your entrance, giving enthusiastic laps at your folds as he buries his face in your most intimate parts. His actions leave you breathless, fists tightly closed over the table as you hide your face between them, nails digging into the tender flesh of your palms. Your forehead rests against the wooden board, and you feel how you start to break a sweat. Desire and wet heat start to pool at your lower abdomen.

"I asked you a question," he says then, finally giving you a second to rest. But he's not a patient man, nor does he enjoy being interrupted while he's having a meal, so he continues licking long stripes along your inner thighs, delineating the yellow and purple bruises —the hickeys— he marked you with yesterday night. You know he's extremely proud of his work of art, because he stops and kisses every single one of them.

"No," you lie, because you know that he will have you there all night if you let him, if you give up on his desire of turning this quickie into something more. Although it doesn't look much like a quickie, to be honest. "There's no other showing, so please, Jake. Just fuck me."

"Shut up," he says, his heavy palm smacking your thigh and you can't help but jump. "You have such a big mouth. I'm trying to get you ready, you ungrateful brat."

And that's exactly what he does. He separates your lips with his thumbs and sticks his tongue in. You moan, louder this time, feeling the soft edges of his tongue inside of you, and you don't even try to contain any other sound that comes out of your mouth. His tongue gets in every few seconds, licking and lubricating everything in its path. Then licking long stripes, his tongue flat against your clit and rapidly moving to your entrance. Every part of you is now trembling, the shiver that takes hold of your body following his actions is violent, leaving you gasping for air as if you were dying.

If you needed any preparation —which, with all honesty, you probably did— that is not the case anymore. A mix of his saliva and your own juices is pouring down your thighs, so if you're not ready now, you doubt you will ever be.

"That's my girl," he says, his accent half-hidden half there. He checks his work with the pad of his fingers, barely touching you but enough to make you whine, desperately asking for something to fill you up because you're just so empty. And you need him to soothe that feeling. "Look at you, all nice and ready for my cock."

Despite that, he licks you one last time.

"Fuck-" you cry out loud at the contact. Annoyance is building up in your chest despite his praise. "I swear if I miss one single scene for your horniness-"

He spanks you then, at last. It's no surprise that he does. After all, it took him long enough with how mouthy you're being with him, but it still catches you off guard. His heavy hand hits your ass without a single warning, and you scream at the contact. This time it does hurt, but it soon fades into pleasure all over your body like a sweet aftertaste to a bitter treat.

Jake finally takes action. His hands curl around both your wrists and he spreads your arms on the table, so you have no support anymore. Next, he presses the back of your neck against the board, and it turns you on so much, being squeezed below him with such force, that you are gasping again, silently pleading for his cock.

"I should've shoved myself in that pretty throat of yours," he said. "Maybe then you'd be fucking quiet, for once."

And you say nothing back, because you know he's perfectly capable of keeping his word: cum in your throat, then leaving the rest of you untouched as a punishment. And you don't think you'd be able to handle that, go through almost three hours without any kind of relief until you get home.

"Nothing to say now, uh?"

With otherworldly swiftness, he sheds his jeans. You hear the loud click, the indistinct sound his belt makes when he unbuckles it and gets rid of it. Then the sound of the zipper, loud and clear: it's a warning. And now you know that he's holding it, heavy inside his fist while he strokes himself; precum coating the tip. When you try to look back to have a look, the hand that is still holding your neck tightens on your pressure points and you feel like a deer with its neck between the lion's teeth. All you can focus on is your own wetness. Your hips go backwards in search of friction.

"So fucking needy," he hisses. "Don't worry princesa. I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

You feel his hand on the back of your knee, but this time he grabs it and scoops you up on the table. With the new position, you're wide open under him. So much so that a blush settles over your cheeks as you feel the cool air on your wet flesh.

Still, you're not given much time to think.

He hits your clit with his cock, twice; before entering you with a deep thrust until he bottoms out. His hips are pressed against your butt. Your fingers close around the edge of the table, holding on for dear life. Your nails dig on the wood until you feel splinters falling off.

He groans.

"So tight. Always so fucking tight."

While you try to adjust to the burning, pleasing sensation that has your brain melting; Jake's fingers find the zip of your dress. He unzips it, slowly, revealing the naked skin of your back and no bra in sight. The hand on your nape travels down your back, caressing all skin he can reach, until he touches the skin over your ribs, making you shiver, just to shove his hand under you and catch one of your nipples. He pinches it, hard, until you finally scream. Half pleasure, half pain.

"Such a beautiful sound," he says. "Let's hear it again, shall we?"

He rolls his hips back, mercilessly thrusting into you with such force that the table moves an inch forward. He keeps your leg on the table, your knee flexed over it. His hand falls on your ass for the second time, a bright red handprint now adorning it. He grabs your flesh, massaging it so he can have a better look at where you two are joined. That’s what it takes him to gasp.

"Joder.”

"Jake..." you moan.

It's like he lost his mind. He starts with a rapid pace, relentless, not even giving you time to build it up as you go. He's holding your hips and not even minding that the screws of the table are doing the weirdest of sounds. He must not even care if he breaks it. He bottoms out with each thrust, every freaking time.

You've always known that he becomes feral when you moan his name, but it's not like you do it on purpose. You just love the sound of it leaving your mouth, his warmth against you, his perfectly sculpted body, his chest against your back as he leans in to whisper something in your ear.

"Tell me how it feels."

Your eyes are squeezed shut, trying to take him as best you can. He slows down, not much, but enough to at least let you breathe, even though he is now squeezed against you. His teeth nibble on your earlobe.

"Tell me," he encourages you. His fingers brush both your arms lovingly. "Be a good fucking girl and talk to me."

Another thrust.

"J-Jake..." you breathe out. Another. "Good. Baby, it feels so fucking good."

"Tell me how much you love my cock"

You notice that he's trying to guide the conversation, tell you exactly what he wants to hear because you're too cockdumb for dirty talk.

"I love your cock so much," you gasp, tears pricking your eyes. "So much... so much..."

He stops thrusting for a second but doesn't pull out. Quite the opposite, he is as deep in you as it is humanly possible. He chuckles under his breath, leaves a kiss on your spine and you feel him smile against your flesh.

"My princess cannot even talk, uh?" he says. "Don't worry baby, I got you."

He takes a handful of your hair in his fist. He pulls your head back, the action earning a loud cry that is soon muffled by a kiss. His other hand rests on your collarbone, making its way up until the pads of his fingers rest over your pulse points. You know he can feel your quick heartbeat under his fingertips.

His mouth leaves yours, and you're instantly complaining with a whine. Even if he's just one inch away from your lips.

"Open," he whispers, still holding your neck. You obey, parting your lips, and Jake spits in your mouth. The pleasure makes you clench around him. "Swallow," you follow his orders, and he squeezes your neck so he can feel the muscles moving under his touch. "That's my good girl."

There's a stupid grin on your face when he says it, warmth in your chest when he pecks your lips as a reward. It's almost impossible to believe how your body can have physical reactions to his words, even without one touch of his. It's ridiculous how much you love to please him. That's usually how the sex with Jake works: he gives you orders, you obey, he calls you his good girl.

You love it.

He pulls your head back into the table, returning to the same pace he started with. His cock fills you up to the brim, as if you were the finest glass of wine. You're not even sure you have enough air in your lungs. But you're not scared by that, Jake is so aware of every single sound and movement you make, that if he thinks you need a break, he will give it to you, exactly as he just did a second ago.

Then, through the maddening cloud of pleasure that has settled in your brain, you hear it. You hear it coming from him.

"You're so pretty," he says. You instantly feel the lump in your throat. "You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

It's not the first time he says it, of course not. He even said it the first time you met him, even if you didn't believe him at the time. The thing is he has said it before, so you don't understand how you simply shut down like a toy that has run out of batteries, how your body goes limp.

You don't want to ruin the moment, even if it feels like you're going through an emotional storm all of a sudden. All the memories fill your mind like an avalanche, including every single word at that wedding not long ago.

That's how you decide that maybe, if you close your eyes, you'll be able to retain the tears long enough for them to fade. So you do, while Jake keeps thrusting into your senseless body. His hand on your hair weakens, but he doesn't seem to notice, and you thank that the position doesn't allow much eye contact.

But then he says it again.

"So pretty right now," he says. "Dios (God)," he growls. "I can't believe I got you."

The lump in your throat doesn't let you breathe, and that's when you burst into tears. You cry, because you never once thought in your life that you’d have someone like him in your life, let alone telling you how pretty you are. You sob and feel so immature right then and there, like a child crying for the silliest reason you could think of. In a desperate attempt at concealing your view from him, you bring one of your hands, the one that is closest, to your face, while the other falls by the edge of the table.

Jake stops immediately.

"Baby?" he asks, his voice low and full of concern. "Baby, baby, hey..." his hand barely touches your shoulder, trying to get your attention, but all he feels is the trembling of your body as you cry. He pulls out slowly. "Did I hurt you? Shit, did I hurt you?" his voice turns angry, angry at himself, but he keeps the composure for you. "You should've said the safeword, baby. Please, you have to tell me..."

By the tone of his voice, the way it breaks on the last word, you know he's barely hanging out of a thread. He caresses the skin of your shoulders. One of his hands tries to uncover your face as you sob. You struggle against him, but he's stronger and once your hand is out of your face, he holds it down, his fingers intertwining with yours.

"Babe..." he whispers. "Tell me where it hurts. If it's that bad we can go to the hospital, you don't have to be embarrassed..." he says. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've noticed," then you hear him whisper to himself. "Soy un maldito imbécil. (I'm a fucking asshole.)"

He leans to kiss your shoulder, then he rests his forehead against your warm skin.

"It's not that," you respond. Your voice is barely a whisper. Tears are still pricking your eyes, some of them still falling down your face. "I'm not hurt."

That catches his attention. Jake brushes the baby hairs out of your face and now you can see him. Tears are about to spill from his eyes, but he doesn't let them. He's frowning, confused, and his calloused hand rests on your hair.

"You are not?"

"I'm sorry I scared you."

"Oh, nena, (Oh, baby girl)" he says, and leans again to kiss your temple. "Don't say that, don't apologize. Just tell me what's wrong."

Despite all his attentions and not wanting to keep him worried about you, you hesitate as you look into his deep brown orbs. It's not that you don't want to explain it to him, but you don't know where to start. Where does one start to explain something that has always been present in your life? It's as if someone asked you how you learned to breathe. Well, it was just there.

Jake patiently waits, until your eyes focus on him and he knows you're not thinking about the matter any longer. The more you think about it, the way you've been treated, all the situations and how worthless they made you feel; the more your eyes fill with unspilled tears.

"Stay here, okay?"

You didn't notice he was caressing your back until his touch vanished. Once he's gone, your mind starts to race, to call you names and think way too much about how annoyed Jake must feel for your sudden outburst of emotions. You bring your hands to your face, suddenly overwhelmed by the mess you've made.

You stand on the floor, and it's not until then that you feel the pain in your hips, exactly where they hit the table with each of Jake's thrusts. The soreness is so familiar that you can already see the bruises that will mark your skin tomorrow.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," you press your palms against your face, angry that you couldn't just keep yourself quiet.

Jake comes back from the bathroom with a wet cloth and he doesn't say a word before kneeling right in front of you. You spread your legs to give him access, wondering what you did to deserve such a kind man.

He cleans you up. The cloth is drenched in warm water. He cleans you thoroughly, with a care and gentleness you rarely see in his actions. You hold the skirt of your dress up to let him work, and he looks up at you just once, his eyes as big as a puppy's, just before he leans down and kisses one of the hickeys on your thighs. Once he's done, he takes your panties and pulls them up your legs, as if he had never touched you.

"Thank you," you whisper once he's standing back on his feet.

Jake shakes his head and brings you closer. He hugs you, your chin resting on his collarbone as he pulls your hair over your shoulder so he can zip the dress up.

"All ready," he says, still holding you. His hand rests on the back of your head. "Come on."

He takes you to the couch, where he sits first just to drag your body over his lap. Once you're sat, he surrounds your back with his arm as you hug him. Your forehead resting against his. Jake closes his eyes and breathes in your essence.

At first, you don't know where to start, and the first few sentences don't feel quite right either. However, he doesn't flinch, so you keep going and all of sudden you can't stop. You start with the wedding, telling him about your group of friends even though he has already met some of them. You explain the whole situation as you look for a reaction on his face. Annoyance, probably, because you didn't let him finish for something that happened right before you met him; or disappointment; because he expected something much more serious than something along the lines of 'I was never told what you just said to me'.

Then you explain the situations you saw yourself in. You tell him about the pain and the hurt hoping he understands, about the disrespect too. You tell him about all the times you were straight-up ignored, about the guys that only approached you to keep you busy while their friends flirted with your friend and they wouldn't even talk to you. You talk about being called a prude, people insulting your appearance and your hobbies, calling you weird. You tell him about that constant feeling you had, not feeling enough or loveable, just a laughing stock for both strangers and every single one of your friends. Maybe the very last option on someone's table, in the best of cases.

That's when he shakes his head.

"Half the time I feel so lucky to have you," you say, tears still staining your face. "That I wonder if you're real. When you kiss me, I remember how I used to think I'd never be able to show my love to anyone."

"Oh, nena," he whispers. You can see the pained expression on his face. "I'm so sorry all of that happened to you." you can see the struggle in his eyes. He's looking for the right words to comfort you. He’s never been good with words. "But I'm here now. And I assure you, I'm gonna give you all you deserve, and all the experiences you never had. All of them are wrong, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It's their fucking problem if they cannot see that."

He holds you close, speaks over your hair.

"You're wrong, you're not unloveable. And you will never be alone again," he says. "I'm gonna tell you how pretty you are until the day I kick the bucket, I swear to God."

"Jake," you pull away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. "Don't say that."

"But I mean it," he insists. Then, he squints. "I'd like to see any of those fuckers that mistreated you and..."

"Oh, stop," you chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, I stop, but you tell me if by any chance we run into any of them..."

"So you can choke them to death? Yeah, maybe I will," you respond, and his shoulders relax, glad about your answer. "Not sure if I should be concerned about how serious you are right now."

Jake chuckles, and you end up laughing too. His eyes sparkle when he looks at you, and he keeps stroking your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

"Te quiero, preciosa (I love you, gorgeous)," he says. And even though your Spanish is very limited, you understand those words, because he has said them plenty of times before. "Come here."

Gently taking your chin, he guides you to his mouth. He pecks your lips at first, right before his other hand falls on the back of your head and pushes you against him. His lips part, his tongue gently licks your own. He makes you moan. His forehead rests against your collarbone when he's done. He breathes in through the nose, as if he could swallow you whole just by inhaling you.

"So... are you not angry at me?" you ask.

"Why would I be?"

"Because I ruined our moment."

"No, you didn't," he says. He kisses your shoulder. "We needed to talk about this, we already did. We fuck all the time, we can finish that up later," he said. "My moments with you are always special, whether we are just talking, not doing anything at all, or fucking like rabbits."

You chuckle again.

"My God Jake, your mouth."

"What about it?" he laughs.

You shake your head and hide your face on his neck. A blush has settled on your features and you're not ready for Jake to tease you about it.

"I love you too, by the way," you tell him. "I love you so much."

He lets out a content sigh, his body sinking into the couch as he lets his head fall on the backrest.

"My pretty girl," his fingers are doing circles on your back. His scent is intoxicating. Your eyelids are starting to drop. "You're safe here. No one can hurt you now."

His own eyes fall shut as he starts drifting off too.

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