#I just really wanted to talk about this moment

[abby-sturniolo44]

— - She’s the one - —

A/N: kinda short but cute, enjoy :)

Summary: Matt realizes y/n is the one at his mom’s 60th birthday.

⚠️Warnings: Suggestive at the end if you squint but mostly pure fluff <3

………………………………………………………………………………….

Today is Mary Lou’s birthday, you spend the whole day celebrating her with the entire family, of course you’ve met Matt’s parents before but this was the first time you hung out with EVERYONE including their grandma, uncles, aunts and cousins, and you took the time to talk and get to know every single one of them.

Matt’s mom loves you and you love her too, every time your boyfriend visits his hometown you tag along just so you could spend some time with her. This morning Matt woke up all alone, confused he walked downstairs just to find you helping his mom in the kitchen with all the preparations for her birthday , you spend all morning helping until the guests arrived, then Mary Lou introduced you to everyone, everybody was thrilled to finally meet the girl who Mary Lou can’t stop yapping about.

Right now you are talking to Matt’s grandma, she tells you stories about the boys that you haven’t heard before and you can’t help but laugh at every anecdote.

Matt’s been frustrated all day, of course he’s happy to be there and celebrate his mom but hates the fact that he hasn’t had one moment alone with you all day, he loves his family but they keep getting on his nerves, he just doesn’t wanna share you, he knows you are amazing and wants to keep you all for himself but every time he thinks it’s his turn with you someone else would need you for something.

The only thing he can do is stand in a corner admiring you from afar talking with his grandma, you’re smiling ear to ear, you seem truly invested in the conversation with the old lady and his heart swells. He is to busy staring at you that he doesn’t notice his dad standing beside him until he opened his mouth.

“She is the one, isn’t she?”

Matt looks over at his dad, then looks back at you and it hits him “yeah, she is”

“You know I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love Nick and Chris but somehow I do, I can’t really explain it though it’s different”

“It’s different but it’s just as powerful, and just wait until you have her children, you’ll heart will explode” Jimmy says amused as he hugs his son and they stay like that for a while.

…

The birthday was over and everyone was gone, the kitchen was a mess but you insisted Mary Lou that you got it and that she should go to bed and rest.

Nick and Chris are outside picking up the rest of the stuff and you are putting dishes in the dishwasher when you feel some familiar arms around your waist, it was Matt, he hugs you tightly from behind and places his head on the crook of your neck, you feel him breathe in how he leaves sweet kisses between the end of your ear and your jaw, you can’t help but to melt into him and relaxed.

“I missed you today, I love my family but they need to understand you’re mine and not theirs” he mumbles

You laugh “I missed you too but you’re family is great, I don’t mind spending time with them and your grandma is so endearing, I really enjoyed today,”

“Would you enjoy it even more if after we are finished with the cleaning I take you to my room and remind you why I’m way more endearing than my grandma?”

You blushed, turn around and give him a big kiss on the lips “we’ll see, now help me clean Bernie”

“She told you that?!” Matt said with an open mouth, shocked at the fact his grandma shared the nickname she gave him when he was a little boy.

“She also told me about the time you peed your pants at school and she had to pick you up”

“I hope you won’t turn out like my grandma when we’re old because I won’t let you talk to our grandson’s girlfriend EVER!!”

[theweewooshow]

“Mmm,” Evan says after Tommy slips back into bed after cleaning them up. “We should get married.”

He’s still laying face down, pillow smushed against his face, so Tommy thinks he mishears it the first time around.

“What?” he asks, because there’s no way those words just came out of his mouth. They’ve barely been dating for six months.

Evan turns his head to the side and says clearly, “We should get married.”

“Yeah, okay, I thought I misheard you. You're not serious,” Tommy says, but his heart speeds up all the same.

They have keys to each other’s places, they’ve said I love you (maybe a little soon, maybe after a tough call, maybe because the feeling was too big to ignore even if it had only been a handful of months), Evan’s floated the idea of moving in when his lease is up.

So it’s not like marriage is something that Tommy thought was a total impossibility for the future.

Evan sighs and says, “I just really want to see Gerrard’s face if I put in a request to get new turnouts and shirts and new name pins because we got hitched.”

Tommy grins despite himself, but then schools his face into his patented Evan face, and says, “I’m not letting Gerrard steal an important moment from us just because you want to give him a heart attack. I do love this vindictive streak of yours though. It’s very sexy.”

He’s heard from both Chimney and Eddie that Evan has been a menace at work, literally carrying around the rule book hoping to catch any infractions Gerrard makes. He’s been yanked forward as Evan has tried to eat his face when Tommy picked him up after a shift, Gerrard looking on with a scowl. He’s heard from Evan himself about the judgment calls he’s made on calls just to be able to throw it back in Gerrard’s face (and save some lives while he’s at it).

And it’s all done nothing but turn Tommy on. He didn't know sticking it to Gerrard would be so fucking satisfying even if he has to live vicariously through Evan to do it.

“But not sexy enough for you to marry me,” Evan says, his lips pouty.

“Afraid not,” Tommy says, stroking a hand down Evan’s sweaty back. “Is that—is that something you would want, though?”

His palms feel clammy as the words come out of his mouth. They haven't talked seriously about what the future looks like for them because it’s still pretty early even if Tommy knows that this is kind of a once in a lifetime love for him.

Evan turns onto his side and props his head up on hand. “Marriage? Yeah, I want to get married one day.”

Tommy nods, a little too quick to be nonchalant. “I’d also like to get married one day.”

The words come out breathless and it’s too telling, showing all of Tommy’s cards, but he can’t find it in him to be afraid of this.

“What a coincidence,” Evan says, ducking his head and smiling bashfully. “Maybe one day we’ll both be married.”

Tommy can feel his face getting hot. “Maybe,” he says, his hand sliding down Evan’s arm so he can lace their fingers together.

[rreids]

HIS SUNSHINE • S. REID X READER

implied fem reader (self-referential when talking about women but can be ignored); fluff; sunshine!reader x grumpy!spencer; spencer realizes he is in love with reader; implied years of friendship + building to this; kissing; promises; slight angst (crying, mild insecurity); reader has a fear of storms; ~1.5k

part of @reiderwriter's writing challenge using grumpy x sunshine; oh, oh; and libra (modified somewhat to fit the scene more)

Spencer could feel your pulse calm as he rubs his thumb over your wrist. It was an odd sensation, someone physically relaxing under you and your attention. It wasn’t unwelcome, though, and he felt himself match his breathing to your slow exhales as you steadied yourself and your emotions. 

He brought his thumb up and wiped your tear stained cheeks, rubbing the skin gently. You lean into the touch, nuzzling into his palm. He felt like his heart might stop when you let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut. He could smell your shampoo with you this close, a coconut smell and a hint of vanilla. It was… pleasant. 

“Better?”

You nod wordlessly. Your breath tickles his skin but he can’t bring himself to move away. He jumps when both of your hands find his free one and you intertwine your fingers with his. You inhale deeply before lifting your head, and the redness to your eyes makes his heart ache.

“Thank you.” Your voice is scratchy and Spencer smiles sadly, tracing his fingers up to lightly ghost over your temples and brows, a barely there touch with just enough pressure that you relax again.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“I woke you up at one a.m. because I walked to your apartment in a thunderstorm just so I wouldn’t be alone. I think I do.”

Spencer smiles. “You’re welcome any time.”

“Really?” Your voice is small. He realizes he’s never made clear that you’re not crossing boundaries when you visit when you ask “I’m not intruding?”

“You’re not Morgan,” he teases lightly, and your smile is like a ray of sun finally breaking through a gray overcast. Everything is warm again. “I don’t mind. Really.” His hand has finally stopped and dropped back to his side, but you keep your fingers tightly twined with his.

“Why is that, Dr. Reid?”

“That I don’t mind you being here?” He can hear the confusion in his voice clearly. Why would he mind? It’s a sign you feel safe, with him, and you’re good company. His favorite company.

“Why am I an exception?” Your voice is infinitely small, and he almost misses the question. It drips with vulnerability and his chest aches.

Spencer doesn’t answer for a moment. He knows it’s just a few seconds, but it feels like time stops as he looks at you. Your small smile still plays at your lips, gentle curls to the corner of your mouth; a sparkle is returning to your eyes; your face, puffy from tears and marked with tear streaks is as beautiful as ever.

He’s in love with you.

He doesn’t know how he didn’t realize before. But he can’t imagine not being in love with you either, head tilting and mouth parting as he hopelessly tries to find words that won’t overwhelm you the way the revelation is overwhelming him. 

Spencer’s eyes flick to your lips again and he realizes he wants to kiss you. 

It’s wrong, he knows that. You’re friends. Coworkers before that. You came to him in a moment of fear and anxiety, desperate for support and seeking solace in him. You wanted a safe space that he could and did provide. He would be taking advantage of your emotional state if he were to spring these feelings on you, especially since he only just realized them himself. 

And yet he wants to.

“I—” Spencer clears his throat. “You… you’re comforting, to me. It’s never too much. It doesn’t feel imposing because you will and always have respected my boundaries.” You always treat me well. I want you. Nothing could bother me beyond superficially and momentarily because I am hopelessly attached to you. “I make exceptions for you because you make them for me.”

You laugh softly. “So our relationship is only transactional?” There’s humor in your voice. You’re messing with him, and he can’t bring himself to care.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

Your brow furrows. He wonders if he’s ruined the moment.

“Do you want it to be transactional?”

“No!” He answers too quickly, too emphatically, barely able to process his own words. “God, no,”

“Wow,” you drawl, all anxiety and tension gone from you. “You’re calling on God.”

Spencer can feel his face burn. He pulls his hand from your hold. Words escape him.

“Spencer.” Your tone draws his gaze to your face immediately. “I need you to be honest with me.” He nods before he can think to reject you — not that he’d deny you any request. He never can. “What are you thinking about?”

He studies you carefully, breathes out “you” before he can psych himself out of speaking. “Why I make exceptions.”

“Care to share?”

You’re so close to him. He can feel the warmth of your chest inches from him. Can see flecks of color in your eyes, could even count your eyelashes. He has half a mind to do so.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” Spencer whispers softly, shoulders relaxing as you toy with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You were just crying.”

“So it’s inappropriate?” You wiggle your brows and look up at him, eyes innocent and bright. Beautiful.

“In a sense.”

You smile, innocence to your expression vanishing. “So you want to sleep with me.”

Spencer coughs. “I didn’t— __, I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You don’t want to? I’m hurt.” You’re grinning. “Here I was, thinking I’m irresistible.”

“I didn’t say I don’t…” he trails off. 

You’ve cornered him. You have a Cheshire Cat grin.

“Will you run away screaming if I tell you a secret?”

“Depends. Are you going to tell me you kill pretty women and I need to make a break for it?”

Spencer laughs. “No.” The humor fades quickly, and he can feel his pulse pounding. Hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. “I love you.” His voice hitches on the words. “I’m— I just realized I’m in love with you.”

“Well, it took you long enough.”

He can’t think of a smart reply. He can’t think much at all. All he smells is you and your shampoo and bodywash, and he tastes vanilla chapstick when your lips press gently to his. You don’t give him time to kiss back.

“Are you sure?” Your fingers trace his cheekbones and his head is swimming.

“Sure about what?”

“That you want me. I mean, I was crying on your couch for an hour because of a storm. Do you really want to deal with all of that?” All of you. You’re asking for reassurance you’re not a burden.

As much as he wants to kiss you, he doesn’t. “I want you as you are. If that’s what you want to know,” Spencer whispers. “You are enough for me.”

“And if I’m not enough?”

“For me or for yourself?”

“... both.”

“You are. You will be,” Spencer ducks his head to kiss a scar on your collarbone, a knife mark from one of the first cases you were on with the BAU. “You’ll find it. The balance between who you want and need to be. What you want others to see you as,” your fingers twirl the hairs at the nape of his neck and he’s hyper aware of your touch, buzzing with anticipation of more contact. “For now, you have to learn to be satisfied with who you are.”

You swallow. Nod. Blink back tears again.

“And you’ll have to be satisfied with how I am. With all my scars and flaws.”

You smile. “I think you’re perfect.”

Spencer rests his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m not. No one can be. As long as you promise to be how you’ve always been with me, then, yes, I’m sure.”

“So you don’t want anything to change?” The lightness is strained. You’re too emotional for it to land, but he doesn’t call you on it.

“I’d prefer if you kissed me.”

And you do. He basks in your warmth, your sunshine. You break his dark clouds and his barriers. It’s enveloping, a heat and comfort. Familiar. It’s like you were destined to slot against him, warm him from the inside out. He can taste your tears. A sun shower. He can’t pull back, soaking up your affections like a plant. You’re smiling despite the way your breath hitches from your emotions, and he knows you’re happy. Overwhelmed. It’s everything and not enough.

He traces your spine.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” His heart matches his mumbled words, beating to your tempo. It was years coming, in the making, years of your smiles and sweetness breaking down his walls and becoming part of his world in every way.

And yet the rhythm is familiar, as natural as breathing.

Spencer is tired of being upset with the world. And whenever he’s with you, he isn’t. Can’t be. He just hopes he can provide the same light you do.

i am trying. idk.. it's a fic!!! that's all i got.

[girlokwhatever]

can i request a paige smut where like the reader had pissed her off BADDD (in whatever way you see fit) and so paige fucks her with the strap BUT the reader keeps like pushing at her abs and ahitbtryna het her to slow down which in return pisses her off more…pls :)

i love you 😭

₊⊹༉‧₊˚.˚ · .ׂׂૢ·˚ ༘ you can take it,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

“i don’t wanna talk to you dude.”

paige was absolutely furious. you missed one of the biggest shots of her career— a score-tying buzzer beater that ended up saving her team and securing them a win in overtime— all because you were talking to a guy in the stands. she was so excited to talk to you about it, for the both of you to share that excitement. so you could imagine her disappointment in hearing that you didn’t see it.

“paige are you serious? i’m sorry alright? i got to see it on the replays, it was really good.”

you try to reach out for her but she shrugs you off again, and now you’re pissed too. the guy was your classmate that spotted you in the crowd and wanted to say hello. you had apologized about a trillion times for missing the shot, still affirming to her how awesome it probably was in the moment.

it only made her feel worse when the guy approached you again at the end of the game. hadn’t he taken enough of your attention already?

“just leave me alone. if you want to be entertained just go talk to that guy again anyway. let him stare down your shirt for all i care.” paige throws her shirt into a corner of your room, littering her sweaty garments around your room.

“is that was this is about? a guy?”

she rolls her eyes, flopping onto your shared bed. she scrolls through her phone to avoid your gaze because she doesn’t want to say something she regrets. her legs are spread, creating space that in any usual situation you’d gravitate towards.

you stupidly decided to tease paige after finding out the true root of her anger. half-naked, you crawl towards her legs on the bed and seat yourself right on her lap. your hand pushes her phone away for her undivided attention.

you were probably going to regret this later.

“you know what we were talking about?”

she knows she shouldn’t give in just by the look in your eyes, but she does anyway. she’s a sucker for you.

“well he kept asking if i wanted to leave with him. i told him i had a girlfriend but he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” you lean closer, lowering your voice, “you know what he told me paige?”

“what?” she’s near breathless, anger still lingering because this guy seems like a douche.

“he told me he’d fuck me so good if i left with him. said he’d fuck me better than you ever could.”

“fuck off. don’t fucking piss me off.”

“he was cute. maybe-”

“paige!”

she’s rutting into you relentlessly, the same way she has been for the past hour. you’ve been squeezing around her strap like a vice the entire time from one position to the next.

after you teased paige earlier all she saw was red. she knew it wasn’t true, but the fact that you even uttered the words had some insane affect on her. she instantly had you on your back, purple strap heavy between your thighs. ever since then she’d been thrusting into you, never stopping or letting up unless she was finding a new angle.

she’d effortlessly coaxed you through three orgasms already and you were definitely feeling the effects. your thighs shook as she held them flush to her body, eyes glued to your face that was twisted together with pleasure.

you were so fucked out you hardly realized your girlfriend’s hand trailed down to the heat between your legs. her thumb rubbed sloppily against your throbbing clit, your eyes shooting open with a pornographic moan. the feeling was overwhelming and made your body shake even worse because, how many times had she done this?

“oh fuck- paige i can’t..”

“yeah you can baby. want you to cum for me.”

your orgasm feels different this time, sensitivity heightened and you can’t control it. she’s so deep and she’s filling you so good, thrusting hard and with so much purpose.

“bet that guy couldn’t make you feel this way huh?”

you’re nodding at her words because she’s right. no one has ever or could ever make you feel better than she does. she knows it.

paige continues stimulating your already over-sensitive bud, pressing harder and faster to match the pace of her hips. you moan out a high-pitched screech and mumble incoherently as your back arches off the bed so much paige has to push you back down. the pressure on your stomach sends you over the edge, sheets tight in your grasp as you finish.

she soothes your sides by running her hands up and down your body, slowing her thrusts but never stopping. you’re attempting to push your body up the bed but her grasp on you is firm and bruising.

“one more baby.” you’re still delirious from the last orgasm and she’s already speeding up her pace.

fuck her and her cardio.

you finally let go of the sheets, reaching out to push at your girlfriend’s abs. “paige please, i can’t. s’too much p.”

she’s immediately pulling your hands away, pushing them above your head as she leans over to whisper in your ear, “you can take it.”

she’s offended that you even suggested you couldn’t. her large hands find your hips again, pulling your body further down the bed and onto her silicone dick. your mouth fell open with a moan and you didn’t know if it was from the feeling of her splitting you in half or her persistence. probably both.

“tryna push me away,” she groans, “don’t be stupid baby.”

she pulls your legs over her shoulders with urgency as she snaps her hips against your own. the burn is finally catching up with her but she doesn’t even care because all she can focus on is you and the way you’re moaning her name.

you gush around her, cum dripping and soaking your sheets. the shake of your body vibrates against paige and encourages her to thrust impossibly faster, a whine escaping past your lips. she’s too good.

the all-too-familiar feeling forms deep in your abdomen again. you shift your hips, chasing your release as your hips angle down. paige’s last thrust makes you cry out, the bubble of anticipation for your orgasm popping. even paige moans as she stills because she swears she can feel you throbbing around her.

a sigh escapes you when paige pulls out. you feel incredibly empty after being filled for so long, a quiet whimper sounding through the room at the new feeling.

paige slips the strap off quickly. once she does, she resumes her previous position between your legs. she’s being gentle as her hands glide over your skin to massage the ache away. it’s a large contrast to her harsh thrusts only minutes ago.

“you did so good, ready to go again?”

“again?” you’re in disbelief as her legs slot with your own, leaning back ever-so-slightly so her pussy meshes with your own. the feeling makes your legs twitch and you’re already moaning at the barely-there friction.

“you didn’t think that was it, did you?”

₊⊹༉‧₊˚.˚ · .ׂׂૢ·˚ ༘

i hope i did this request justice!!

actually partially spell-checked this time 🤗

[hees-mine]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, stepson, stepmom, dirty talk, taboo relationship, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral, cum eating, cursing, mommy kink-ish, no plot.

Genre: 18+, step relationship, taboo. Not proofread.

WC: 3,534k

⟱⟱⟱

A lie is what you’d be telling if you said you didn’t think about feeling your stepson again the moment your eyes opened in the morning, but you were quick to push those thoughts far back to the recesses of your mind, hoping that they would never come forth again.

Even though the night spent with him was nothing short of mind blowing you had to do your best to forget it cause you couldn’t do that with him again especially after the guilt you felt when your husband came to bed last night.

Guilt.

Now, that was something you and heeseung didn’t have in common. What you did have in common was that you both most certainly enjoyed last night.

Fuck does he remember last night? It was so good that it’d be hard to forget, and what would he have to feel guilty for after fucking every single last one of your precious little holes.

Speaking of, he can’t decide which one he likes more. All of them brought him immense pleasure, so much pleasure that at ten in the morning, he’s as hard as a brick just thinking of you, but he’d just have to feel each of them again before he could really decide.

You’d already sent your husband off for the day with his lunch, and now you were busy cooking breakfast for yourself and, obviously, your stepson.

Who was now standing at the end of the stairs greeting you in nothing but his pajamas, and the large print between his legs was hard to miss. You clenched your thighs at the sight of your pussy already missing him. “Morning, Mommy,” he chuckled tiredly, slithering into the kitchen, and before you can even calm yourself, he’s got his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, his cheek pressed to your shoulder, and his groin nestled right against you. “Hmm,” he moans from the contact on his sensitive leaky tip.

You gasp, the feeling of him shocking you back to your senses. The knife you were using to cut fruit falls on the counter, and you flatten your palms, bracing yourself against the kitchen island.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbles as you go stiff in his hold. “You’re not gonna greet your stepson?” He pushes forward, leaving you no space, and now you’re trapped between the counter and his body just like yesterday, and just like yesterday, you feel the restraint quickly leaving your body.

How could you have any restraint when his dick was so hard against you and so close to where you needed him most.

Last night you told yourself never again would you let your stepson fuck you, but that was last night when he was in his room far away from you. That was when he wasn’t standing behind you shirtless that’s when his dick wasn’t nuzzled right up against your ass.

“H-heeseung, stop,” you tell him feebly, your voice trembling, and you would never willingly admit that you were already leaking for him.

“You really want me to?” He sneaks his hands under your sleepwear, cupping your breasts and squeezing them with his large hands. “Tell me again, and I will” he rolls his hips tracing the crease of your perfect ass with his long dick. “Just want you to be sure, that’s all.”

You do your best to hold in your whimpers. If you were being honest, you really wanted him to slip your sleep shorts off and take you from behind right then and there in the kitchen, but for a split second, you had an ounce of rationality. “S-stop,” you said with a shaky breath. “Y-you should take a shower. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“No,” he whines in protest but quickly obeys. “Fine, I’ll do as you say, Mommy.” You feel the warmth leave your back as he creates enough distance between you two, and for the first time since you saw him today, you feel like you can actually breathe.

“Looks good,” he spanks your bottom, and the sound echoes in the quiet kitchen. He grabs an orange slice and holds it to his mouth, slurping the juices provocatively; the scene looked all too familiar to the way he ate you out last night. You glued your eyes on him while he stared at you, flicking his tongue on the center of the orange and then sucking on just like he did your clit. “Tastes good, too,” he smirks at your dazed expression, walking past you to the trash bin to throw the peel in the garbage, purposefully brushing himself against you on his way upstairs.

Once he left, you stood there for a good minute. You tried to grab your knife to resume making breakfast, but your hands were literally shaking with need, and the guilt you once felt was pushed to the back of your mind as you climbed upstairs in search of your one and only stepson.

You knocked on the door right in the middle of him getting undressed, and him being him, didn’t think twice before answering the door fully nude, his cock still very much hard. He was going to take care of his problem himself, but now you’re standing outside the door, and you definitely look like a better option than his right hand.

He smiled, happy to see you standing there and shamelessly looking at his dick.

Your eyes are glued onto the one thing you need inside you the most. Your brows furrow together at the sight of your thighs shaking and your hole clenching around nothing, dripping with sticky arousal.

“Did you need som-“You step forward into the bathroom and, without a thought, slam the door shut before dropping to your knees in front of him and taking his stiff shaft in your hand, gently pumping it up and down. “Oh shit,” he groans. Your actions caught him totally off guard. He had to brace himself with his right hand against the bathroom sink. “I guess so,” he smirked down at you and placed his hand on top of your head, smoothing over your hair.

You’re too ashamed to respond, so instead, you put your mouth to use elsewhere and lap at his sticky tip, tasting the salty precum that oozed from it.

A taste you had already become addicted to.

You hungrily take more than half of him in your mouth, sucking his cock desperately.

The little sounds you made when his tip hit the back of your throat made his cock twitch, and you loved the feeling of his heavy length resting on your tongue as you gagged and slobbered all over his shaft.

He must have really got you worked in the kitchen for you to be sucking him off so eagerly like this. It has barely been a few minutes, and he could feel the need to cum. “You suck it like you need it, baby” he tilts his head to the side, lips pursed, as he gently bucks his hips and helps you take him impossibly deep.

The sight of you both in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he looked in the mirror watching from a different angle how you sucked him off. You looked so fucking good on your knees. “Yes, Mommy, just like that fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth already,” he breathes deeply, trying to hold off and enjoy the feeling of your wet mouth just a little longer. “Oh!” He lets out a strained moan when you cradle his balls. “Fuck it feels so good” he throws his head back, his hips moving on their own as he lightly fucks your throat, getting lost in the pleasure.

You take deep, calculated breaths through your nose, never taking a break no matter how tired your jaw gets. The feel of him in your mouth was far too rewarding to stop from a little jaw soreness, especially with the way his needy moans were filling up the space of the bathroom. “Fuck” he groans out, abs tensing and sweat beading on his body. “I’m cumming” he holds his hips, still throbbing on your tongue as he releases his warm semen on your tastebuds. “Ah fuck oh shit,” he moans as the white creamy liquid trickles down your throat.

You moan in pleasure, the taste of him making your clit throb even harder with need. Your cunt was sore. That’s just how engorged it was, and you needed him so bad his mouth, his fingers, his cock, anything would suffice with the insatiable urge that was flowing through your veins right now. “Taste good?” He grins while gripping your chin and tilting your head up. You look so gorgeous with your mouth full of his cock.

“Yes,” you moan when he pulls out of your mouth, your lips swollen from taking his thick cock deep in your throat.

His eyes nearly roll back in his head at just the thought of bringing you pleasure and tasting your pussy. Without another word, he quickly joins you on the tile of the bathroom floor. “Up.” he holds your waist, helping you up and sitting you on the sink. “That’s it, Mommy.” he grabs the waist of your shorts, hooking his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts and yanking them off your hips with minimal effort.

He smiles as you spread your legs wide open for him, and it’s no secret what either of you wants. He places his hands on your knees, keeping you open for him as he presses his face in your cunt, inhaling your scent. “Hmm, smells so good.” he licks his lips. Just your scent has him getting hard all over again.

“Hee,” Throwing your head back, you whine, one hand on the sink, the other in his hair. He moans shamelessly as you call his name, his tongue falling out of his mouth and tracing the path of your swollen folds to your clit.

You sigh in pleasure when you get some type of relief from all the built-up tension down there.

He sucks nips and licks all over your vulva, covering it in a mixture of his spit and your juices that seem never-ending no matter how many times he gulps it down, but he doesn’t care. He could drink you forever.

“So good.” You massaged his scalp, and he looked at you, enjoying all the faces you made, from the small lip bites to the heavy sighs and labored breaths.

He closes his eyes, really devouring you now, nose rubbing your little clit as his tongue sinks inside your hole.

“Oh yes!” Your head cranes backward, your thighs tensing when you feel a certain pressure building slowly in your abdomen.

He flicks his tongue in and out, deliberately nudging your clit with his pointed nose, causing your toes to curl.

“Yeah? That feels good?” He spits on your core, licking it up and shoving it in your hole. Before it can leak out, he stuffs his tongue back in. You fucking it in and out.

“So fucking good,” you praise, and his cock is definitely fully hard now.

He feels your walls tighten, and he’s just waiting for you to cum all around his tongue. His wait isn’t too long, and before you know it, you're creaming on his warm tongue, giving him all the satisfaction of making you orgasm.

“Shit,” Your legs dangle over his shoulders, shaking and trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

Your moans grow louder the more intense the pleasure becomes, and he works his tongue carefully, giving you the most of your high without overstimulating you.

Your breath is uneven, and the tension is releasing from your body now that you got what you were craving so desperately.

He kisses your inner thighs and kneads the soft flesh.

You cup his cheeks, wiping the arousal from his chin, staring at his eyes with something more behind them.

Looking up at you, he sees the blown-out look in your eyes telling him exactly what you need.

He stands up, his knees aching slightly, but he can’t even be bothered right now, too distracted by the intense pulsing of his needy cock.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you towards him, his tip resting on your mound. “Been thinking about this pussy all morning” he rolls his hips painting your core with sticky strings of precum. His eyelids drop so low they’re barely even open.

You whimper, the sensitivity of your high making you feel him much more intensely.

He bites his lip, thrusting on your clit as if he was inside you. “Woke up harder than ever.” he lets out an airy laugh as you stare at him, your brows creasing, and you nibble on your lip, just waiting to feel him inside of you. “Feels so good.” he gives you a lazy smile and bends forward, kissing your forehead. The kiss is much softer and sweeter than what you two are about to do, and somehow, that settles the beating of your heart and braces you for what’s about to come.

You lift your hands from the sink stroking his toned chest, your other grabbing the base of his thick cock, covering him in your wetness. “Ah,” he moans softly, feeling much more sensitive from your touch than his own. “Please put it in, Mommy.” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you watching as you guide him inside you.

Shaky breaths are exchanged as he slips in you with one smooth glide, your hole stretched and ready to swallow up all his inches.

“Look at the way you suck me in” A low hum settles in his chest as he meets you halfway, thrusting his whole length inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs with the pleasurable stretch. “Fuck y/n” his mouth falls open from the way your silky walls feel wrapped so tightly around him.

“Hee,” whining his name, you can’t help but look into his eyes just to see him staring back at you, both of your expressions riddled with pleasure.

He pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, both of your bodies shuddering from the sensation. His cock slid in and out in a steady motion, your arousals mixing together, creating the dirtiest sounds and staining your pussy lips with creamy white.

“Faster.” You fall back against the wall mirror, and he holds you in place, going faster and deeper, so deep you can feel it in your stomach.

Your breasts jiggle with each one of his thrusts, and he stares at them, your perked nipples peeking through your shirt, looking so mesmerizing to his eyes. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking perfect” A chill runs up his spine every time his tip pushes past that little tight barrier on your opening, and he swears he sees stars. “It feels so fucking good.”

“Keep going” Your body shakes on the sink trusting him to hold you up, and he doesn’t even leave one doubt in your mind as his hold is firm on your waist, keeping you in place no matter how much you write and squirm on his dick. “Fuck yes, so good, so deep, mhhm” Your loud moans bounce off the walls, and your sounds entice him to go as hard as he possibly can.

“You like that, huh? You fucking want me so bad, don’t you?” You shake your head no despite you loving the way his inches fill you up. You know in your right mind you would never say yes to him. You were already committed to another man. You only wanted his dick, not him. “Is that so? Your cunt is saying otherwise, squeezing me so tight I can barely move” he digs his fingers into your skin, his hold on you growing harsher from the force he uses on your body. “Just look at you, spread open, taking it so good.”

“N-no,” you babble out despite rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“No? So why are you so wet, hmm? So tight,” he grunts, growing flushed with how much energy he exerts. “Fucking back on me like that.”

You grab onto his shoulders when it becomes too much for you, and he handles you with ease as your body goes limp, completely wrecked by his cock plugging in and out of you so fast and deep.

“See, Mommy? Knew you wanted it,” he smirks, going at an animalistic speed, his balls smacking your ass as his abdomen gets coated in a thin layer of your guy's mixed arousal.

“Oh heeseung!” You moan out loud, wrapping your arms around his neck as he plows you into oblivion.

“Yeah, say my name, Mommy, just like fucking that” he drags his hand down to play with your clit as you cling to him. You’re so so close.

“Yes, yes, yes fuck me,” you squeal out. You can’t help but say the words even though your mind is conflicted. You know it’s wrong to fuck your stepson, but you can’t stop cause it just feels way too good. You’ve never felt anyone like him before.

“Uh uh uh,” he grunts, giving you everything you need and so much more. “Cum on your stepson's dick, Mommy.”

His filthy words put you right on the edge, but you both stop immediately when you hear the front door shut downstairs. “Honey, I’m home early!” You hear your husband’s voice looking at heeseung with fear in your eyes, afraid of being caught, but he doesn’t seem to even care and begins to roll his hips, picking up the pace cause he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to come on his dick.

You shake your head back and forth. “N-no heeseung, what if he-” he cups your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“Shh, just let me make you feel good promise we won’t get caught” It was risky, and you knew it, but at this point, you needed to cum on his dick so bad that you’re not even sure if you’d stop if your husband walked right through that door and saw you getting absolutely pounded like a whore by his son.

He drops his hand from your mouth and kisses you to keep you quiet, his other one playing with your clit and winding up your orgasm again.

“Close,” you whimper, clenching around his cock repeatedly.

“I know I can feel you, baby. Keep squeezing on my cock. Keep going cum, and make a fucking mess on me. Mommy want it so bad,” he moans lowly into your mouth.

“Cum inside me,” you whisper to him in your lust-filled daze.

He whines into the kiss, obeying your command. “Yes, Mommy” With three more quick snaps of his hips, you come undone, moaning out loud, but he quickly muffles it with his mouth sloppily kissing you as he stills in your pussy. Those three words instantly made him shoot his thick, creamy load into your walls, filling you up to the absolute brim.

Moaning into each other's mouths, he stroked through your highs, so lost in pleasure and not the slightest bit worried about getting caught.

He leans back, smiling at your exhausted face, and slowly pulls out his load spilling from your pulsing hole and down your ass.

He bends down eagerly, licking it all up, cleaning every single last drop of your combined releases, and then pressing his lips to yours so you both can taste each other.

The taste is something that has you wanting more as you deepen the kiss and lick inside his mouth, not leaving one inch uncovered.

You both finally part for air, and he pats your thigh, grabbing some tissue to wipe you off with. He helps you stand and step back into your shorts while you adjust your shirt and run your fingers through your hair to make yourself presentable.

He peels the shower curtain back, smirking and getting in the shower like you told him to, and when you step out of the bathroom, your husband is standing right outside the door.

“Oh honey, I was looking for you,” he chuckles.

“Oh, I was just getting heeseung his towel. He left it in his room,” you quickly come up with a lie, trying your best to wipe the look of fear off your face with a nervous smile.

“Can’t that boy do anything on his own?” your husband sighs. “Well anyway, what’s for dinner? I’m hungry.”

You close the bathroom door and walk downstairs in front of your husband, discreetly rolling your eyes.

All he ever did was demand you make meals for him and talk down about his son which was admittedly very annoying he talks about his son not doing anything meanwhile all he does is work and laze about all day long waiting on you to do everything for him.

“I’m making your favorite.” You turn to him with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“Well, hurry up.”

You closed your eyes, releasing a deep, and maybe you didn’t feel that guilty after all for fucking his stepson more than just one time.

⟱⟱⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback🩵

[suguann]

SAY YOU'RE MINE—GOJO SATORU.

✎.You shouldn’t elicit his attention more than any other Omega at the party—he doesn’t remember inviting that many—but he’s wondering how he let you slip by. | wc. 1.4k+

tags. fem!reader, age-gap, very shy reader, exhibitionism, reader wears glasses, a/b/o, 18+ only

masterlist

The big, awful truth nobody tells you about hosting your fortieth birthday is how the shine of the day wears off once you see your friends and acquaintances laughing with their loved ones, talking about their kids, showing off pictures of newborns swaddled in soft linens, and making plans for upcoming holidays. 

Gojo sips his drink, pretending to understand. He’s never given much thought to settling down, to take an omega as a mate and fill his big empty house with the sounds of pealing laughter and little feet racing down the many halls.

Forty years old, and he’s ready to admit that living the life of a bachelor doesn’t hold the same appeal as it once did. That returning from a two-week-long business trip might be better if there were somebody to go home to.

Forty years old.

Instead of cozying up in the living room with a family he longs to have, he’s going to spend the rest of his night picking up plates and champagne flutes after everyone leaves because he forgot to hire a cleaning company—all alone in his big empty house, wondering if his secretary remembered to pick up his dry-cleaning for the week.

An unmated Alpha—the reminder chafes as much as the fact he’s getting older.

He finally understands why his late aunt divorced and got married again twice in the same year, why people buy nice vacation homes on white sandy beaches that make the crow’s feet around their eyes worse, and spend too much money on sports cars even though they stay parked for three-fourths of the year. He gets it now.

It’s more or less an epiphany of a sad, pathetic truth that he swallows down with something cold and bitter.

In the middle of his backyard, standing between his neighbor and his pregnant wife, Gojo wishes he were anywhere else. Inviting everyone he knows within driving distance no longer seems like the well-thought idea he’d presumed it’d been.

He makes a few more rounds around the garden before sneaking inside, escaping another conversation about engagements and wedding dates to hide away in his study.

That’s until he sees you out of the corner of his eye, looking through the bookcases in his living room.

A pretty slip of a girl in your modest cocktail dress and wide-framed glasses slipping down the slope of your nose. An Omega, alone, just like him; your clean, sweet, floral scent sticking to the back of his throat like syrup until it settles in his stomach. Enough to make him dizzy.

You shouldn’t elicit his attention more than any other Omega at the party—he doesn’t remember inviting that many—but he’s wondering how he let you slip by. Not that it really matters because his back straightens, no longer wallowing in self-pity, and he studies you with interest.

After a few moments, you finally glance his way, only for you to hastily return your attention to the book you pulled down from the shelf. Cute.

Gojo adjusts the tie around his neck and feels his lips twitch.

“Sorry,” you say softly, long lashes fluttering against the top of your cheeks. “I didn’t mean—I was only—My friend invited me, and she—”

You are too busy working yourself up over an explanation that you don’t notice when he sidles up next to you and reads over your shoulder. "I have more in my office if you want to take a look.”

“E-excuse me?” You make this breathy, choked sound and peer up at him from under your lashes. This visibly timid type of girl who bashfully looks away at the sight of his smile. For some reason, that makes his mouth go dry—makes his teeth ache. 

It’s rare to be so driven by instinct and rarer to actually listen to that instinct.

“Books,” he says. “Do you want to see them?”

His words take a second to sink in, and he smiles when he sees liquid clarity in your eyes. You blink owlishly, scent spiking, pleased. He stands there patiently, finding how you start rambling endearing, a slight, private grin splitting across his face—silently amused.

He thinks you'd bolt if it weren’t for the fact that he’s probably standing much too close, trapping a mouse by the tail.

“I–I g-guess,” you finally stutter.

It’s too easy: You letting him usher you up the stairs toward his office. 

If Gojo were a better person, a less lonely Alpha—a better man—he might feel bad for how well it works.

It’s no small thing to work the tiny zipper at your back and watch your dress pool around your feet. He barely gets the top three buttons of his shirt undone before you are—delightfully, inexplicably—up on the tips of your toes, timidly pushing your hands through his hair, mewling into the hollow of his throat, close to where his gland sits.

By the time he has you pressed against his office window, you’re this flustered little mess with crooked glasses, fingers streaking the once pristine glass to keep your balance, and breasts sticky and wet with spit.

“Good girl,” he mutters, pulling back to look down at where he’s splitting you open. “Such a good little Omega for me, aren’t you?”

You don’t answer, and he crowds you closer to the window, grasping your chin and tugging your head up until you’re looking at him upside down. He squeezes your cheeks together, your pouty, supple lips pushed out, and kisses your mouth, tasting you—unimaginably sweet.

“Tell me—tell me what a good girl you are,” even though he knows you can’t with his fingers pressing into your cheeks, but you try anyway.

“U-uh but—people c-can see.” 

The base of his cock tingles as he catches a line of drool spilling from the corner of your lips. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, soothing, and you steadily melt against him when he slips that same finger underneath the elastic of your underwear, lightly nudging your clit with the tip of his finger until you’re shivering beautifully again.

“That’s it. Don’t worry about them,” he coaxes lightly, but it comes out muffled because he says it with his mouth wrapped around the gland at the base of your neck, teasing himself with something he’s never allowed himself to have. Not yet. “Just you and me, okay?”

Gojo doesn’t let up until your back arches and shoulders tighten, his knot caught inside your cunt until all he can do is grind the tip of his cock against that spot that makes you squirm and whine. 

He smiles to himself when you hide behind your hands after realizing you ruined his pants, and he carefully falls back into his office chair, pulling you with him so you’re both looking out across the garden, where his guests walk around wholly unaware of the breathtaking little Omega who made his birthday worthwhile.

“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he muses, taking great pleasure in the way you start stuttering again.

On his forty-first birthday, he doesn’t throw his own party but still hides in his office, his pretty wife in his lap, flustered because he never turned the lights off this time. If anyone happened to walk by on this side of the house, they’d be able to see everything—his omega, soft and swollen from a piece of him taking root inside you.

Families are about making traditions, he thinks, and he’d like to start a few traditions of his own; leaving his party to fuck his wife in the quiet of his office being one of them.

[erwinsvow]

can we have rafe try to grovel ?? :((((( shy reader deserves better !!! <3 https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/751213087399510016/what-if-rafe-ever-hit-shy-reader-from-built-up?source=share

he will grovel!! side note i dont know how i feel about this its just for the sweet anon who wanted part two

the moment rafe shuts the door and traps you in the room, between his body and the wall, you know some part of you has just broken that you'll never fully be able to fix.

everything in your body tells you to look up at rafe and do something. slap him back, push him away, turn around and storm out of the room and try to at least show him you're just as mad as he is—but none of that actually happens.

hot tears keep spilling down your cheeks, and you stay frozen like that for what feels like forever, staring at the floor of rafe's bedroom. the sound of rafe's heavy breaths fills the space, though you can barely detect it over the way your heart is pounding in your ears.

you want to leave. but you don't know where you even would go. before the events of the last hour, there was no where you wanted to be more than wherever rafe was. and now, staring at the floor instead of up at the boy who you had gladly given your heart to only for him to snap it in half with his bare hands and deliver it back, you stay frozen, waiting for rafe. you are always waiting for rafe.

"kid, i-" you finally look up, through wet lashes and almost painful eyes fluttering slowly, and rafe stops talking the moment you do. you don't know why, but it doesn't take you long to figure it out. there's a mark on your cheek the size of his hand, probably an imprint from his ring too.

it's such a shame—you always loved that ring.

you snap out of your thoughts when rafe keeps talking, though there's still blooding rushing in your ears. he sounds muffled, his mouth moving and expression looking, you can only imagine, somewhat close to yours—sad and angry all blended together. you keep blinking slowly, listening but not really listening, waiting for him to finish so you can leave.

how stupid you must seem to him, and to yourself, you think pathetically. he just hit you, and you're waiting for him to finish, so you don't impolitely interrupt. you should drive straight from tannyhill to a therapist's office—though you think not even a licensed professional could help you figure out what exactly is wrong with you.

the thought makes you laugh, corners of your mouth turning up and a rush of air leaving your throat. half a laugh, half a sob. the gutting realization has just hit you—whatever was wrong with you, rafe was the only one in the world who seemed to understand you.

"baby?" rafe asks, and you actually snap out of it this time—looking up at your boyfriend, wondering if he knows you haven't heard a single thing he's said so far.

"i think i should go home," you reply, wondering where your keys are and where your wallet is. you don't keep track of these things anymore, usually since rafe drives you everywhere and pays for everything.

"okay. i'll bring you, just let me go get-"

"no, i-" you stop yourself—about to apologize again. everything running through your mind makes you choose your words carefully. "i'm gonna go home."

"you didn't drive here, kid. i picked you up, remember?" rafe looks back at you and you feel a fresh wave of tears take over. you hadn't remembered.

"oh."

"listen, kid, i'm so-"

"i'm going home," you repeat firmly, mostly to yourself. "i'll just-i'll walk."

"y'not walking. it's dark and-"

"rafe, stop." the way you say it, he actually listens. you don't sound like yourself, you can tell from the way he looks at you, rafe's face doused with concern and apprehension. you look away, turning to face the door. "i'll be fine. i need to go."

"c'mon, kid, don't go," he says, and every bone and muscle inside you wants to listen, to do what he says like you always do. you feel more hot tears coming up, stopping them seems impossible yet you know crying is useless. it already happened and the damage is already done.

you turn around from your position, knowing it's a mistake. rafe gets closer, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. he holds your face like he always does, except there's one big difference—you flinch the moment he starts moving.

"baby," rafe says quietly, and everything in you stops for a moment. brain lagging, breath catching, even the tears stop for a second while you look up at your boyfriend. "i'm so sorry. i am so sorry. i fucked up, okay? i know i did, but please don't go."

"rafe, i can't stay," it comes out just as quietly, a notch above a whisper. "you hurt me." it comes out wrangled in a sob. rafe wipes away some of your fresh tears with his hands.

"i-i know. and i'm gonna regret it forever, but-" rafe stops, and you stop too. you chew on your lip nervously, realizing it's going to bleed from how much you're biting down. "can-can i at least bring you home? please?"

"okay," you give in-but you shouldn't have.

you don't even know how you're gonna explain the mark on your face to your parents, or why you're home so early when you said you were sleeping over. every movement feels exhausting—grabbing some of your things and walking down the stairs to getting into rafe's truck. the drive to your place isn't very long, only ten minutes, and you stare out the window the whole time. it feels like hours with the way rafe looks at you at each red light.

rafe pulls into your driveway and you look up at him expectantly, though you're not sure why.

"can you-can you turn the headlights off? i don't want them waking up," you say, after what feels like ages of silence.

rafe turns the lights off but doesn't say anything. it's not until you reach for the doorhandle that he does—it's almost muscle memory for him. he leans over you to pull the handle and open the door for you, but you flinch so hard when he moves that he can't even get the door. instead he looks back at you while you stare up at him. without any words, you both know what the other is thinking.

"goodnight, rafe," you say, your own hand on the door now.

"wait, kid," he says, and you stop your movement immediately. even in this situation, you can't help but listen. "can i see you tomorrow? please?"

"i don't think that's a good idea."

"c'mon. we-we have to talk about this. i can't just.. not see you. i'm gonna go crazy."

"i need to go rafe." the second you say it, you start feeling bad about it. it's so engrained in you—trying to avoid hurting rafe in any and every way possible, that the very idea of not giving him what he wants makes your chest ache painfully. "i.. i have to think about it."

he leans over, slowly this time so you don't get scared again, opening the door for you like he always does. you climb out, getting your bag and trying to pretend everything's fine until you get inside your room.

"good night, kid. i'll talk to you tomorrow."

without replying, you walk inside. rafe's truck stays in your driveway until you lock the door, and he doesn't drive away until minutes after.

surprisingly, you make it to your room before you start crying. and you don't stop crying until the sun comes up.

[uzurakis]

hello!! i hope ur having a good day. if not it will get better with time!! I don’t know if you’ve gotten this request yet, but I read your JJK men with a clingy reader and I was wondering if you could do a angst version one where they kind of don’t like it!! the reader would either hear them talking about how they don’t like it or they’ll say it to the readers face.

of course, if you want to and if you haven’t already. thank you for ur work. I LOVE IT!!

THEY DON’T LIKE YOU BEING CLINGY!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento.

n. thankyou for loving my works! i was sorta confused how to do your ask because i personally think the boys would not stray away from your touch, it felt a bit off but i still went to write it. not a full on angst though, just a tiny winy bit of it. i still hope that’s okay though, i tried my best :’]

NANAMI KENTO. he gently pulled away, holding you at arm’s length. “i love that you’re affectionate,” he began, voice soft but firm, “but i’m not in the mood for it right now.” nanami let out a heavy breath, pulling away his tie for some air. he felt a share of frustration and guilt. it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate your love and warmth—he did, deeply—but today had been draining. the weight of his responsibilities, the stress of the day, it all hung heavily on him, making it difficult to switch gears so quickly. “it’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he said, trying to soften the blow. “it’s just been a really rough day, and i need some time to unwind.”

GOJO SATORU. “can we just sit side by side for now? save some of that energy later,” he smiled down at you, but after a moment, he gently repositioned your hands and stepped back slightly after you tried to wrap your arm around his tough body, leaning into his chest to feel his warmth. his words stung, but you tried not to show it. you nodded and took a step back, settling down on the couch next to him; folding your hands in your lap whilst forcing a smile.

GETO SUGURU. “i’m feeling a bit overwhelmed right now. can we.. tone it down a little?” geto fidgeted, playing and intertwining his fingers. he then continued, “it’s not that i don’t want to be close to you. i just need a bit of space to breathe, especially after a long day.” you bit your lip, trying to keep your voice steady, “suguru, i understand. i just… wanted to be close to you. i’m sorry..” but your boyfriend immediately answered by saying “sometimes i just need a little space to decompress. but that doesn’t mean i don’t love you or want to be with you.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you kept trying to make physical contact with megumi as the evening wore on, but he kept pulling back each time. he pretended to alter his position when he softly withdrew his hand when you sought to grab on to it while you were watching a movie. always moved slightly as you leaned on him, putting a little space between you two. he sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. “look, i’m not really a touchy person. it’s just how i am. i need a bit of space to feel comfortable.”

@uzurakis

[theminecraftbee]

Doc's about four beers in by now. It's just enough to loosen his lips, especially with Etho eating most of the pretzels so Doc can't eat them. Compared to almost any other hermit under these circumstances, Doc seems barely tipsy at most, but, well, it's not like Beef needs him drunk to vent his latest frustrations at the world, he just needs him tipsy enough not to notice he's talking.

"--and I just don't understand why people are so surprised, man. You--you all have teased me too much to be surprised!" Doc is saying. "Ren laughed at me. Laughed!"

He also, for the record, seems to need to complain about... apparently his husband? Which is new. Beef had been surprised. He's not going to say so, yet, because this is Doc's very belated NHO bachelor party--can they call it that when it's more "sitting around a TV drinking, eating snacks, and not doing anything because they're all too old to be partying", and when Doc is very clearly not a bachelor?--and that would be rude.

"That dog," Bdubs says loyally. "I can kill him for you. I'm the judge so I wouldn't get arrested and I'd make sure you get all his money as a widow."

"No, you can't kill him, man, I still need him for tax benefits!"

"What taxes?" Etho asks, sounding vaguely panicked.

Everyone stops to consider this.

"Beneficial ones," Doc finally says.

"I don't think that's what--I think you're misunderstanding your English again," Beef says.

"No, I'm always right," Doc says.

They sit in companionable silence for a few moments. Someone shouts on TV. The show is in Swedish. Beef has no idea what's happening. He's honestly just kind of waiting for someone else to notice.

"It's just. I don't get it, man! Why are you all acting so surprised I called Ren my husband? You! You all know me!" Doc says, somewhere between accusing and despairing, and hm, maybe these beers were higher alcohol content than normal, if he's already on despairing? "Ren and I have been--after season eight, making it official, it is only a natural thing, yes? But we had--he's asked to have my puppies. You've heard him say our babies would be beautiful."

"That dog," Bdubs says loyally again, this time in a much more suggestive tone.

"More than once," mutters Etho.

"It's not--I mean, we all knew you and Ren were... how do I put this?" Beef says. "It's not surprising that you two are. Er. Help me out here."

"Boning," Etho says.

"EXCUSE YOU?" Bdubs says, scandalized.

"Yeah. Boning," Beef says. "Doing the horizontal tango. Probably some vertical ones too. I mean, you're definitely into some things--"

"Fighting dragons," Etho dryly adds.

"THAT WAS STILL GROUNDS FOR DIVORCE," Bdubs shouts, apparently over being scandalized and moving straight to offense.

"Two seasons later? Man, you just wanted to wring as much alimony out of me as possible," Doc says immediately.

"And? I'm a judge now, I know these things."

"My point," Beef says, before they can start arguing again, or before Etho can point out that they hadn't ever really been married to get divorced in the first place. "My point. We, uh, all knew you two had a thing. It's just, uh, marriage is... different! It's different, and--"

"You didn't INVITE ME TO THE WEDDING!" Etho says, finally unable to hold it in. "Whyyyyyyyyy? Doc, I thought we were friends! I thought we were friends, Doc! I wanted to go to the wedding!"

"It, it was a little thing," Doc says. "A common law marriage as much as--"

"Hey, wait, why didn't I officiate it, huh?" Bdubs says.

"That's not fair, you can't be mad at me for not inviting you to the wedding, the moon had just exploded!" Doc says.

"It had?" Etho says.

"Yeah, well, I exploded too and I still would have shown up," Bdubs says.

"I don't remember an explosion?" Beef says.

"Wait, the moon did something?" Etho says.

"Focus," Beef says. "Look. Doc. Also, love you man, but I always figured that if anyone was going to propose, it was going to be Ren."

Doc scoffs. "Clearly you don't know my husband, then."

Everyone waits for him to elaborate. Ren, after all, is the one known for dramatic emotional appeals. While Doc is equally dramatic--that's why Beef is throwing a bachelor party for the great fit as opposed to off showing him that Big Salmon can still show someone how to sleep with fishes--he's not exactly great at emotions. Surely, he will elaborate on why Ren would never be the one to propose between the two of them.

He doesn't.

"Anyway, I think it's been obvious for, for years, and you all are morons, and--why is the TV in Swedish?"

"THANK YOU!" Bdubs says. "I thought it would be rude to point out."

"Oh, I like it, though," Etho says as Doc changes the channel to a home improvement show. Yeah, sure. Fits the vibes of this bachelor party as much as anything else. Beef grabs another beer. He pauses.

"Wait, you said a common law marriage. That means you haven't actually had a wedding yet, right?"

"Not really," Doc says.

Beef considers being reasonable, and then he lets it go.

"Dibs on planning it," he says.

"WHAT?" Bdubs says, rounding on Beef.

"I--hey, I didn't agree to this!" Doc says, as Beef begins negotiations with Bdubs. Etho laughs, louder than he normally does, and throws an arm around Doc.

"Let it happen, man. Let it happen."

It's a good party, and a good night.

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard info compilation Post 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [another post]

Post is under a cut due to length.

There is a lot of information coming out right now about DA:TV from many different sources. This post is just an effort to compile as much as I can in one place, in case that helps anyone. Sources for where the information came from have been included. Where I am linking to a social media user’s post, the person is either a dev, a Dragon Age community council member or other person who has had a sneak peek at and played the game. nb, this post is more of a ‘info that came out in snippets from articles and social media posts’ collection rather than a ‘regurgitating the information on the official website or writing out what happened in the trailer/gameplay reveal’ post. The post is broken down into headings on various topics. A few points are repeated under multiple headings where relevant. Where I am speculating without a source, I have clearly demarcated this. if you notice any mistakes in this post, please tell me.

Character Creation

BioWare confirmed that even if you make your Rook a short king, the team has done work to ensure animations fit any character build [source]

"Dragon Age's character creator has seen a massive glow-up" [source]. "The volume of choices you get here are frankly insane. As Epler noted, “you could spend forever here,” and he’s not kidding." [source] The art and graphics teams spent a lot of time trying to make hair look amazing [source: the Discord]

In CC we can customise our "bulge size" [source]

Some more detail on the new lighting options to see how Rook looks like in CC when you make them: you can view them in "blazing forest sunshine versus the glare of an underground temple" [source]

"newly mobile, extra-hairy hair" [source]

Faction choice has statistical boons. For example, Shadow Dragon Rook deals extra damage to Venatori blood cultists [source]

Faction choice basically determines why Rook has been called to help in the fight against Solas [source]

All pre-determined character models in CC can be adjusted [source]

You can make a really tall dwarf if you want [source]

"Setting your previous world state is fully integrated into the character creator for Veilguard" [source: the Discord]

Inquisitor appearance will be re-created, there is no way to carry their appearance from DA:I into the game [source: the Discord]

Classes for Rook are not restricted in the sense that you can play any almost class, lineage and faction combination that you want. For example, a mage Rook can be a Crow [source: the Discord] (Fel note: it sounded like Rook cannot be a magic-wielding dwarf, even though the exception of Harding now exists) (Fel note: there is a mage Crow in one of the books)

Story and lore

Here is another article which refers to Rook as "the Rook" [source]

The story is set "9-10 years from DA:I and about 8 years from Trespasser" [source: the Discord]

They have been tracking Solas for "a while. Something else you’re gonna learn about…" [source]

The game does not use the Keep [source]

Shadow Dragon is the faction background with the most in-game reactivity (e.g. from other characters' dialogue) during the prologue section of the game, due to the fact that the prologue is in Minrathous and the Shadow Dragons are a Tevinter-based faction [source]

"I also saw a big moment after the gameplay trailer ends that I can't talk about" [source]

During the more narrative-heavy dialogue choices, "the game will also give a bit of context on what you're about to choose, but doesn't go as far as explaining the exact consequences or precisely what will happen thereafter" [source] "the game shows you how you’ll go about the choice, but it doesn’t tell you the consequence of that choice". [source]

"The game is bringing back Dragon Age 2s dialogue system, which was tone-based and resulted in its protagonist Hawke falling into one of three different personality states. You have three general tones in a conversation: kind, humorous, or aggressive, with slight variations depending on the situation" [source]

"Venatori blood cultists" [source]

"The whole game has the makings of another Suicide Mission [ME2], given that you are up against a god with the ability to collapse dimensions" [source]

"Choices and consequences". "Now, it seems you can see the effects of your choices like never before, and this time, they marry that choice with incredible visuals" [source]

In the bar when you're trying to get information in the opening, if you choose to fight it out and the barbrawl ensues, you then have to run from the pursuers in the bar [source]

A key concern of the developers when creating the environments was to make “a world worth saving" [source]

The prologue is quite linear but there are additional paths you can follow to find additional loot [source]

In the opening section of the game there is a dock which has been attacked and the soldiers that were there have been killed, "but rather than seeing this passively, we walked through the aftermath and had to interact with the scene to piece it all together" [source]

The tone of the gameplay video is a good indicator of the tone of the rest of the game [source]. On the tone: "dark fantasy" [source]. horror & gore is back along with DA's classic dark elements [source]

Tevinter Nights is a better tone indicator for the game than the original reveal/character trailer. Ghil Dirthalen: "Tevinter Nights has felt the most 'DAV' to me" [source]. The gameplay reveal video is the best indicator for the tone of the game (vs the character one) [source]. there is still messy dark shit in the game [source]

Tonally the game is closest to Tevinter Nights and DA:O [source]

Ghil Dirthalen: "[as] one of those unfortunate souls who has latched onto a media world so hard: This game is for me. For the hardcore DA lore nerds, I've been secretly screaming about things I saw for MONTHS now" [source]

The game is true to the DA stories we know and love [source]

Characters, companions, romance

You can choose to engage in companions' own storylines as you progress or ignore them entirely [source]

You will often have to make dialogue choices that will affect how your various companions treat you [source]

Neve is quick-witted [source], measured and elegant [source]

In the opening, you interact with the companions as you move through Minrathous. "your choices during these interactions will determine who goes on portions of the mission with you, along with how “pleased” they are with the answers." [source]

On Varric and Harding: "Instantly the two felt like they’d never been away and avoided the trap of being parodies or fanfiction versions of themselves" [source]

Solas' eyes were always purple hh [source] (yes!)

Gameplay, presentation, performance etc

Some enemies have additional shields that are weak to ranged attacks [source]

When asked about if the war table from DA:I returned, John Epler said "There is a table. Now, whether it works the same way as the table in the previous game..." [source]

Once you get passed a certain point in the game, it opens up dramatically, however it is not an openworld game and they wanted to make sure that all the content mattered and was a more structured, sculpted experience for the player. There is some exploration, some opportunities to get off the beaten path, and some spaces that are fairly wide [source]

The button to press to bring up the skill wheel is RB or R1 (depending on what controller you're using) [source]

"You'll also have access to two skills or spells for each of your two companions that you can command. For a more seamless, uninterrupted combat experience, you can also assign these skills to shortcuts (such as holding the left trigger and hitting the X button) to quickly use them" [source]

"The game is bringing back Dragon Age 2s dialogue system, which was tone-based and resulted in its protagonist Hawke falling into one of three different personality states. You have three general tones in a conversation: kind, humorous, or aggressive, with slight variations depending on the situation" [source]

"booting Fade demons into pits" [source]

"BioWare have revised Dragon Age's art direction to make character models a little more consistent with the series' lovely Tarot-inspired menu art. Flesh is ruddy to the point of painterly; facial features and bodily proportions are thicker and more striking, as though the characters had been cut from clay" [source]

The 3 specs for Warrior are Reaper (has lifesteal/stealing health from enemies, and other freaky powers, does big damage), Slayer (can wield the biggest blade, big swords, big damage) or Champion, which is tanky, shield-using and Paladin like [source] [source]

There are quick-recover prompts [source]

You can roll through puddles of incoming AOE [source]

There are ziplines between some levels levels [source] (Fel note: just like in As We Fly... )

There are also slidey hills to slide down between some sections [source]

There are still some Hinterland-type areas designed for exploration [source]

We can do some home base management to our home base [source] (Fel note: this refers to The Lighthouse, detail in a previous post)

Camera placement is quite zoomed out [source]

Where Rogues have 'momentum', Warriors have 'rage' and Mages 'mana'. When a warrior spends rage in the ability wheel it triggers more powerful attacks. this has been referred to as a build-and-spend mechanic. this system resource gates your use of more powerful skills and is built by getting stuck in [source]. Momentum for Rogues is built by landing hits without taking any [source]

There are big glowing environmental cues for picking up loot or replenishing health potions [source]

"Epler noted that The Veilguard will not be an open-world experience like Inquisition, and instead will have large spaces to explore with quests littered throughout. This allayed my early concerns that they would course correct too hard from the oft-maligned open areas of Inquisition" [source]

Melee and ranged attacks can be charged up [source]

It sounds like there is an option to have greater guidance on when enemies are attacking [source]

The community council gave a lot of notes on the game's art direction to BioWare (gave feedback to the devs) that they were told and shown were changed from the first reveal/character trailer, these made it into the gameplay trailer [source]

The community council asked about having an arachnophobia mode, though they can't guarantee this was implemented [source]

"You’re encouraged to explore and grind for stronger weapons and gear, so your stats and cosmetics improve the further you get into the game" (in the sense that you’ll be rewarded for hard work) [source, two]

Follower information such as cooldowns and health will be visible on the HUD [source: the Discord]

There is a "quick cast" option if you prefer not to use the wheel, should be a chorded action using a controller [source: the Discord]

On PC you can play with keyboard and mouse or controller [source: the Discord]

An accessibility option is the ability to make auto-targeting stronger or weaker depending on your preference [source: the Discord]

The game will have DLSS support at launch [source: the Discord]

Re: hard drives, the game can be played using an HDD, they would recommend an SSD though for the optimal experience [source: the Discord]

There are lots of different interface options you can play with, e.g. combat text size, opacity, when to display health bars [source: the Discord]

Other

The leak from last year or whenever it was (the one that leaked screenshots and a gif from the game) was mainly a lot of outdated stuff and didn't really represent even the early version some community council members had played [source, two]. It was not leaked by a member of the community council, but by a member of another focus group [source]

The community council were given the chance to play the game twice, once in Fall 2022 and a year later in 2023 [source]

There is no information as yet regarding when pre-orders will be open [source: the Discord]

BioWare are hoping to at the very least have the very "best of" the Discord dev Q&A featured on social media and potentially in a blog [source: the Discord]

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[gffa]

Osha's backstory episode of The Acolyte fits perfectly with a headcanon I've had forever about Force-sensitive children in the galaxy--that some children feel called to the Jedi and some do not, and that the Jedi look out for this. We see that destiny exists in the Star Wars universe, the Force calls to people to walk certain paths, but that it's still up to them to decide, you still have to make your own choices. (See: Everything about Anakin Skywalker and how the Jedi never brought that up around him, it was always about personal choice and agency. Yes, he was the Chosen One, but he had to choose his path.) From the moment we first meet her, child Osha didn't want to be a witch, she wanted to see more of the galaxy beyond Brendok, she was immediately entranced by the Jedi when they showed up during the ceremony, like a magnet pulling her to them, that she was drawing the Jedi Order symbol long before they ever got there. It wasn't just a sudden way to get out of there, she was feeling this pull towards them long before she ever even met a Jedi. She's the one who first slips out to meet Sol during the ceremony despite being told to hide, she's the one who goes over to talk to Kelnacca before the test, she's the one who fights against her entire family to say she wants this. She's the one who wants this even before she knows there will be other children like her with the Jedi. We don't see the Jedi giving Mae that same nudge, because the Jedi path wasn't meant for her, she didn't want it, and I love that both here and in The Phantom Menace, the Jedi make sure that this is what the child wants, too, that both prequels and High Republic Jedi are shown to take such care, that it's done with the parents' permission, but also getting a sense of what the Force is or isn't calling this person to do and whether they accept it. But Sol gently pushes Osha, not to tell them what they want to hear, but to tell the truth, do you want this? Do you feel like this is right for you? Just as Qui-Gon made sure Anakin knew being a Jedi was a hard choice, the Jedi want you to be sure, want you to feel called to this, because the Force exists, a mysterious destiny exists in this galaxy. It's still your choice, you have to have agency over your choices, it's not just, "What does the Force want?" but instead Sol asking, "What do you want, Osha?" The narrative is careful to point out Sol telling her about his own testing, that he knew he was different from his family, that he was scared at first, but it was clearly his choice. "But you must have the courage to say what you want." The Force called her here, the Force is something that exists within Star Wars and has a will of its own, and some people are not called to this particular path, I don't think Mae was ever meant to be a Jedi, she never wanted it, she never felt that pull. But Osha, like so many other Force-sensitive children tapping into this giant mystical energy field that has a destiny for you if you want it, they are pulled to it and the Jedi take such care with that. Some are meant to walk the Jedi path and some are not, that's something only each individual can figure out for themselves, and the Jedi do their best to honor both the Force's calling and the person's own choices. And if a child resists and pulls away, they let them go, it wasn't right, it wasn't meant for them. But when a young Force-sensitive is practically vibrating in place with how badly they clearly feel this is meant for them, that's something that exists as a thing that really does happen with the Force.

[unknownmystery22]

Little Do You Know -Lando Norris

Summary: Lando finds him jealous, little does he know he has no reason to be.

Warning: Jealousy, slight angst, drinking, slow burn

A/N: look out for a twist

REQUSTS ARE OPEN !!!

You were an upcoming journalist in F1. You were young and charismatic. Naturally people in the paddock were attracted to you and tried to make an move on you. You never really cared about any of them you had your eyes on a certain Papaya brit.

Speak of the devil "Hi Y/N, looking good" Lando said. "Thank you Lando, you don't look too bad yourself. Best of luck for today He simply grinned and said "Well seeing you just made me a whole lot luckier" you just looked down to hide your blush which you were pretty sure Lando had noticed. Oscar called Lando for team meeting "See you around, gorgeous" he said cheekily and went away.

This had been going on for a while you both flirted here and there but never really made a move. You were close friends with some of them like Max and Charles they were aware of your feelings towards Lando and would tease you relentlessly.

The race went well. Max won again wow, shocking. Charles was P2 and Lando ended up being P3.

After post race interviews, just as you were about to headout. Lando called you out "hey wait!" "Well hello Lan how can I help you ?"you asked turning around. "Well I just wanted to ask if you will be coming to the party later" He replied. "Ofcourse Lan I wouldn't miss it" you said. He just grinned and said "Just making sure my lucky charm is gonna be there". You just smiled and rolled you eyes and went away.

*skip to evening*

You were all dressed up maybe a little too much for a certain someone. You heard someone knock your door. You opened up to find THE Lewis Hamilton at you door. "Well Hello gorgeous, if you don't look ravishing. All dressed up for a certain papaya driver perhaps" He asks wiggling his eyebrows. You just slap him in the shoulder and say "Can we get going already". "Oh! Eager to meet your boyfriend ha" He asks teasingly " He is not my boyfriend" you said. "Not yet" he replied.

You entered the club with Lewis holding my hand to protect me from the paparazzi. As soon as you entered you could see people stare at you. It made you feel much more confident.

Lando spotted you from where he was talking to Max and Oscar. He looked at you and starstruck till he saw who was next to you. "Since when are they close ?" He asks to no one in particular. Max just chokes on his drink and says "Wait! Mate you really don't know?" Lando just grumbles and says "Not that it concerns me". Oscar just replies sarcastically "Sure".

You walk over to Lando smiling "Hi Lan". Lando just mumbles a Hi and brushed past you still figuring how he missed out you and Lewis being close. You found his behaviour strange and to be honest it hurt a little. "What's up with him ?" You asked to other two. Max just shrugged innocently whereas Oscar said "He is just being a idiot".

You were feeling down since the whole reason you came was for him. Lewis comes over to you as he noticed the whole ordeal "Hey, let him be don't let him ruin the night for you, sweetheart" he drags you to VIP section and gets you a few drinks. Though in the VIP section with your friends and colleagues you couldn't help think over to Lando. As you looked around you saw him standing with Charles and talking with a few girls. You felt so hurt at that moment. Lewis followed your line sight "Love, come on don't read too much into it" He said trying to comfort you he wrapped his arms around you.

Lando saw Lewis wrapping his arms around you at the man swears if looks could kill Lewis would be dead for sure. He couldn't care less about the girl next to him trying to talk to him. Charles suddenly asks "Okay, what's up with you ? You are here with me instead of being with your girl".

Lando grumbles "She is not my girl and she certainly has company" looking over to Lewis. Charles looks over to see Lewis and it finally hits Charles and he starts laughing so bad. Lando looks bewildered "What's so funny ?" Charles still laughing replies "Dude you are jealous of her stepbrother" Lewis looks like deer caught in headlight "WHA- Since when OMG! I just messed up. She will be mad at me. I am so dumb for god-" Charles interrupts him mid sentence "you better go now" Lando straightens himself up and goes over to her.

"Umm Y/N.. can I talk to you for a second" Lando asked. You stood up from your place near Lewis and went with him outside to little quite place "So now you want to talk ?" you sass. Lando now embarrassed tells "You are probably going to hate me right now but as soon as I saw you with Lewis I assumed the worst, I was jealous that's why I was grumpy. I really like you Y/N and I thought I lost my chance so I pani-". You interrupted his rambling "Wait first of all you though I was with Lewis: with disgust on your face "Ew" "and second how did you NOT know that Lewis is my brother, well Stepbrother".

Lando just rubbed his neck "guess I am just dumb"

"Well, that's obvious. And for the record I like you too if that wasn't oblivious.

Lando grinned "So that means you are up for a date with me ?".

"I am pretty sure that is what I meant when I said I like you even if you are a dork" you reply.

Lando just comes closer and says "You wouldn't mind if I kissed you right now ?"

"I would mind if you didn't" you say

He just cups your face and kisses you deeply.

Little did he know the night would lead him to this.

[gothcsz]

The Boy is Mine | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~7k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become obsessed with the new DEA attaché.

Tags: oral (m receiving), stalking, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation (f), we're humping a pillow y'all, light spanking, javi's gun makes an appearance, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i told myself i was going to take my time with this but i've been hyperfixated on this song and music video since it dropped... imagining my favorite pedro boy and... well i cranked this sucker out so fast. oh to break in to javi's apartment and blow him into oblivion 😫 let me know what you think! i might write a part 2 if there's interest for it xoxo mwah enjoy queridas. 🖤

You’ve never seen a man so handsome. So determined. So capable.

So perfect.

You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was the one.

You’d been waiting outside of the embassy in the pouring rain for over an hour trying to catch him while on his break, wanting to get a quote from the new DEA attaché on his plans to tackle the Cali cartel.

That’s why you’re here in Colombia. Fresh out of grad school with a masters in photojournalism. Your advisor had presented to you a great position in South America involving documenting the war on drugs and its subsequent effects. Despite Pablo Escobar’s death, this so called war remained relentless, and with your ability to capture photos that truly are worth a thousand words, your advisor knew you’d be perfect for the job.

So here you are, immersed in a beautiful country, working your dream job. It had its bad days just like anything else but your passion and prowess made those hard days worth it.

When he finally did emerge from the government building, you shivered and it wasn’t because you were soaking wet from the rain. 

Your handbag did little to nothing to shield you from it as you held it over your head and jogged over to him.

He immediately blew you off, quickly eyeing your appearance before giving you a simple ‘no comment’ which would usually piss you off and have you press further–– however, you were left in a trancelike state by merely being in his presence.

He was more handsome than you could have imagined. You didn’t know what he looked like before arriving, solely going off the description given to you by your boss then what little his secretary had told you when you called to ask for a meeting earlier (which you were denied).

Brows cinched together in a perpetual frown, pouty lips turned downward in a scowl with chocolate brown eyes that make you miss the warmth of your hometown. 

He had taken your breath away entirely, leaving you standing there in a puddle of both rain and arousal as he darted off in the opposite direction.

That was all you needed, really, to be thrown into a pit of absolute delusion and wanton want for Javier Peña.

You watch him relentlessly. At first, it began with scouring through the archives, reading any printings that involved him, seeing his photograph on countless articles and video footage of him giving press conferences.

The more you dived in to the professional life of the agent, the more devoted you became.

Then the following started. To and from work. Late nights at the bar. While tracking down leads. You can’t help yourself, you are obsessed. Everything this man does is fascinating, further deluding you into a infatuated trance.

You don’t know where this side of you came from. You’re usually so unproblematic and independent, your sole focus being your career with little to no time to even fathom romance.

There’s just something about him that flipped this twisted switch within you, rendering you a cock-thirsty, lovestruck mess.

One night, you watched him bring another woman home and that’s when you realized how palpable your obsession had gotten. The jealousy that bubbled in your chest became unbearable. So much that it led you to get out of your car, climb the fire escape of his luxurious apartment building and onto his balcony.

You observed from the other side of the glass door, in the shadows, as he took this woman on his couch.

A plethora of toxic emotions swirled within you. Envy and arousal the most intense, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his bare torso against the gentle, warm light of the singular lamp that was on.

A sheen of sweat glistened over his tan skin. He is so chiseled with a softness that makes you want to run your tongue against every dip and ridge, all the way down to the enticing trail of hair that leads right to what you crave the most.

You sighed, fantasizing about being in that lucky bitch’s spot, with his hands running all over you, kneading and squeezing your curves, the scratch of his mustache having your skin curl beneath the coarser touch. You managed to control the whimper that threatened to slip up your throat in the off chance that it got you caught.

It’s not until you felt your pager in your pocket that you returned to reality, the buzz forcefully pulling you from your erotic daydream. With a final glance at their moving bodies, at him, you swiftly descended the fire escape and to the nearest phone booth.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Since that night you’ve been insatiable. You just need one taste, a small micro dose of him to keep your hunger at bay.

It’s not until a few days later that you return to his apartment. He’s away for work in Cali (you followed him to the airport, watching him board the plane behind your thick sunglasses and a newspaper) leaving his place empty with no surveillance. You ascend the fire escape again, the city lights of the capitol twinkling in the distance. 

Slipping your gloves on, you expertly pick the lock of the balcony door before suavely entering the space. You’ve been practicing on your own at home in preparation.

It’s neat and clean. Not much personality to it which is unsurprising considering how stoic this man is. His hardened demeanor amongst the many things about him that drive you crazy. There’s never a break in his expression, always painted with typical tension and weariness.

You wonder if you could be the one who is able to crack him. To get a reaction out of that handsome face.

After surveying the entirety of the open space, you sneak down the hallway and push open the door of his bedroom.

Immediately, his smell engulfs your senses and your eyes flutter close at the scent. It’s comforting yet enticing; nothing different than what other men smell like but there’s something about Javier specifically that you just can’t describe.

It’s so satisfying. A fucking aphrodisiac.

Walking deeper into the room, you diligently rummage through his belongings, beginning in his en suite bathroom.

With every little piece you study, you learn more about the agent. What toothpaste he uses, the brand of razors that he buys, the specific shade of blue of his towels. Little things you wouldn’t be able to catch during your, plainly put, stalking.

Back in the room, you open the drawer that stores his shirts, your fingers running along the front of a brightly colored pink one that’s neatly folded at the top. You imagine yourself walking around in this and nothing else, the softness of the fabric hanging from your curves, unbuttoned enough to expose the swells of your breast and maybe even a nipple slip to tempt him even further.

Would he think you look sexy in his clothes?

You now stand at the foot of his large bed, the window behind it casting the silver of the moonlight against the mattress tantalizingly, as if urging you to go full on goldilocks by climbing in it and pretending it’s a bed you share with him.

You stare and you stare, lower lip pinched between your teeth before you gently crawl onto it, lowering your chest so it brushes against the duvet as your nose trails up up up until it’s at his pillow, inhaling deeply as you get a more potent smell of him. 

A sweet moan pushes through your lips, your clit throbbing in tandem with your heart as you lose yourself entirely, your mind already conjuring an erotic fantasy.

Your lips against his thick neck, licking and biting the salty skin while he fucks you in missionary. The details become so vivid; that familiar furrow of his brows as he concentrates on your soaking cunt swallowing his cock, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he praises you for taking his dick like the good little slut that you are.

You whimper, grinding your hips against the mattress, the friction delicious against your clit, while your nose remains buried in the pillow. Deciding that you need more, you lift your head momentarily to grab one of the other cushions and then slip your jeans off; tossing them on the floor and placing the cushion in between your legs.

Positioning yourself at the perfect angle, you bring the pillow he sleeps on up to your face and begin to grind down on the one in between your legs.

Drifting back to your lewd thoughts, you picture him beneath you while your hips move at a sensual pace. You know you’d take him bare, needing to feel every vein and divot… how thick he is breaking your pussy open while simultaneously molding it to fit perfectly tight around his cock.

His mouth on your bouncing breasts, nipping and sucking on your nipples while his large hand runs down to land a harsh slap against your ass cheek, groping the skin to soothe it before repeating the action again and again and again.

You move faster against the pillow, your now ruined panties only adding to the overwhelming sensation as the wet fabric rubs against your needy pussy. 

“Javier…” His name falls from your lips in a gasp when your face leaves the pillow, your body needing fresh air but you being selfish and wanting to suffocate in his scent. You know your wetness is smearing all over the pillow but you really don’t give a fuck at the moment, too caught up in your own pleasure and delusions to think of how wrong this is.

But it feels so good.

Your free hand goes under your shirt and bra to massage your sensitive tit, stomach tightening as your orgasm begins to creep up on you.

You think of his devilishly curved nose and how fucking magnificent it’d feel nudging against your clit while you ride his face. That position specifically has always made you a little nervous due to the thickness of your thighs and ass, but you just know that he would be able to handle it like the sex god that he is.

His tongue would lap over your slit hungrily, kissing your folds before wrapping his lips around the flesh of your clit and sucking hard. The phantom sensation of it is enough to get you to hump harder against the pillow and bury your face into the one in your hands once more, your cunt clenching around nothing as euphoria washes over you.

The room is filled with your muffled moans and cries of his name as you come undone, hips wildly thrusting against the cushion as your juices absolutely soak through it. It’s an out of body experience, really, as you attempt to return back to earth.

You’ve never came that hard, especially not on your own.

Breathing heavily, you take what feels like an eternity to calm your shaking body down. Once your mind is a little clearer, you wobble off the bed and proceed to wash the pillow you just marked like a possessive cat, lounging around his apartment until you’ve made sure everything is as he left it before swiftly making your exit.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

His return comes in the form of a news broadcast. You’re in the middle of cooking dinner when you hear the anchorwoman report that one of the Cali godfathers, Gilberto Rodríguez, has been arrested thanks to the joint efforts of the DEA and Search Bloc.

The kitchen knife falls from your hands and onto the cutting board as you scurry over to the boxy television set in your living room, fingers twisting the knob to increase the volume as he appears.

You’re kneeled in front of the screen, face damn near pressed up against it as you intently watch him command the room. He stands behind a podium with microphones pointed at him from every direction, cameras shuttering, an array of men on either side of him and a large crowd gathered at the front.

“I promise you… the other three godfathers will fall.”

You nod your head as if he is speaking only to you, “That’s right baby, you tell them. So hot.” 

You stand, attention still fully on the television as that familiar stir of arousal begins to heat up within you.

He’s home and your resolve is wearing thin. Thin enough that you decide to say fuck it.

You need another taste.

Dinner is long forgotten as you go to your room, pulling open the closet and grabbing a solid black box from the top shelf.

You purchased this little number when your fantasies had begun. Wearing it around your apartment while you teased yourself, roleplaying him coming home after a long work trip and using your pussy to help him forget the horrors of his job.

Using a realistic looking dildo, you imagined it to be the man of your dreams while you fucked yourself with it in a myriad of positions.

The outfit is simple. A short, black leather dress with a corset bust and sheer sleeves that cover your shoulders and arms, doing a great job of making you look sexy. The skirt falls at your upper thigh, exposing your nylon clad legs paired with simple black heels. You slip on your mesh gloves, your red acrylics popping against the black, almost see through material.

The ensemble looks divine against your skin but you feel like something is missing. Taking one, long look at your face you realize that you’re not ready to fully reveal yourself to him, so you turn back to your closet and your eyes light up once you see the cat mask you wore to a costume party not that long ago.

You smirk at the idea.

A sexy little cat burglar. Breaking in to take what she wants.

Putting it on, your reflection stares back at you and you feel like a whole different person. The corset cinches your waist just right, your thighs curvy and inviting beneath the stockings, tits pressed together and almost spilling out the top.

The lacey mask covers half your face, leaving your glossy lips exposed with cute kitten ears at the top. 

You’d fuck yourself, honestly. This new wave of confidence does nothing but fuel your determination.

Walking over to the opposite side of your room, you tilt your head up to take in the shrine of photos you’ve made of him.

Most come from you and your camera, all those days you spent watching him and documenting his every move. Others are from newspapers then there’s some messy sketches you did out of boredom.

Your finger comes up to trace his sharp features on one of the pictures, lingering on his nose and your pussy tingles as you breathe out a wistful sigh.

You can’t wait to try him.

Throwing on a black trench coat, you leave your apartment and take the familiar route to his. It’s raining, but not harsh enough to spoil your plans. Just a light drizzle.

When you arrive, your heart sinks at the fact that he isn’t home yet. Of course. He was just on TV! You hadn’t really thought this plan all the way through, absolutely blinded by your desire.

Whatever, you take the time to touch up on your makeup and fix your hair. The night presses on until finally you see his jeep coming down the road and pulling into the garage of the building.

With a final look over in your rearview mirror, you exit the car and cross the street to make your way up the familiar ladder, careful not to slip against the slick surface with the heels you have on.

Thankfully there’s no one out tonight, and if there was you aren’t sure how the hell you’d explain what you’re doing. You don’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

The butterflies in your stomach wildly flutter once you make it to his balcony, rain droplets adorn the glass door and you crouch to keep yourself hidden.

He walks in not long after, looking exhausted as ever as he pulls his tie loose around his neck and tosses his keys into a small bowl at the entryway table. His expensive dress shoes are kicked off, suit jacket slipping from shoulders revealing how broad he is. You bite your lip.

He stalks across the apartment, not even glancing in your direction, unbuttoning part of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves. His figure is a little blurry due to the condensation on the door but you don’t care, you’re under his spell as you watch him pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Wetting your lips, you can almost taste the spicy liquor as he drinks it in one shot before pouring himself another. Except this time it’s on the rocks.

Would the ice make his lips cool? Surely. A shiver dances down your spine at the thought of them pressed against your heated skin. 

The orange street light casts softly into the space, the shadows sharpening his features and making him look more rugged and masculine and just downright fuckable. You want to so badly break through the glass and take a seat on that chiseled jaw, to have him harshly grip your ass as you fuck yourself on his tongue.

He disappears down the hallway and into his office, giving you the opportunity to sneak in like last time. You give yourself one final pep talk before fully committing, slipping off the trench coat and tossing it aside.

After picking the lock, you very diligently and quietly slide the door open and enter, shutting it behind you.

Just like the cat burglar you pretend to be, you suavely follow his trail down the hallway, leaving a wet trail of your own from the rain, stopping at the cracked door of his office.

You see him hunched over his wooden desk, back facing you, deep in thought at whatever documents lay sprawled against the surface.

His back muscles tense with every subtle move he makes, your dark eyes taking him in entirely from his slutty little waist to the curls at the nape of his neck.

You can tell he’s been frustratingly running his fingers through his hair since it’s sticking up in some places making it look so sexily tousled.

You want to tug on it, run your fingertips against his scalp while he devours you whole.

So lost in your observance of him, you don’t catch the moan that escapes you and his head snaps up at the sound. 

Your eyes widen and you take a delicate step back, still watching as he reaches for the gun that’s nestled against his lower back.

Trying not to make too much noise, you make your way further down the hall and into his bedroom, heart in your throat as you climb into his bed, laying on your side with your body weight propped up on one hand as you anticipate his presence.

This is it. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you laid eyes on him.

The first thing you see is the silver tip of his pistol as the door opens further, then he comes fully into view with that goddamn scowl on his face that makes your skin tingle.

His breath hitches once he lays eyes on you, large hands squeezing the weapon as you sexily wave at him.

“Hello agent.”

Your sweet voice fills the space, the muted sound of the weather picking up outside serving as the perfect white noise to set the ambiance for this scene.

“Who the fuck are you and how the hell did you get in here?”

Oh, his voice. So smooth yet raspy like the whiskey and cigarettes he can’t live without.

“An admirer that saw you took down of the godfathers and decided to come thank you in person.”

His gaze narrows, gun lowering slightly as he contemplates whether you’re a threat or not.

You are, but not in the way that he thinks.

“How did you get in?”

“That’s a trick I’m going to have to keep to myself.”

You shift your body, moving to rest on your knees and you watch as his eyes lustfully trace the contours of your figure. You’re absolutely keening beneath the heaviness of his stare, loving the fact that you have his undivided attention.

It doesn’t even worry you that he’s got a fully loaded gun pointed right at your pretty face. If anything, it just turns you on even more.

“What do you want?”

“I already told you. To thank you in person.” Your eyes roll and his jaw tightens.

“Thank me in person?” He echoes your words with a dry chuckle, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Let me show you.” Your tone is hushed and dripping with suggestion, slipping off the bed slowly and sensually.

You watch his adam’s apple bob at your change of position, letting him see you in your full get up, watching intently as his eyes land on a different part of your body with every second that passes.

“Drop the gun, Javier.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I could do right now.”

You cock your head to the side, eyes narrowing behind the mask as you contemplate your next move.

He’s standing on the rug that’s spread out against the wooden floor which gives you an idea.

“Please? I’m not going to hurt you.” You whine with a pout, beginning to lower yourself to the ground as if showing him your unwavering submission.

The seconds that tick by feel like hours as you attentively take each other in. Then you hear it, your ears twitching at the faint sound of the safety switching on and it’s enough to spur you into action.

You don’t know where this newfound strength comes from, probably the adrenaline you feel of simply existing in the same room as him. You yank the rug, causing him to lose his footing as he falls onto his back with a loud thud, the gun slipping from his grasp and sliding across the floor.

He groans out in pain but you don’t care, pulling him closer, then fully on your knees as you begin to crawl over to him.

“I told you to put the gun down.” 

He’s still on his back, making no attempt to move as you draw closer. He does lean up on his forearms, dark eyes fixed on you, watching as you shuffle on your hands and knees until you plant your hands on his shins and work your way up.

You barely graze the hardening bulge in his pants, causing him to shudder, and white heat licks at your core knowing that in this moment; he wants you too.

The two of you don’t break eye contact as you straddle him, gloved hands falling on his pecs.

“I’m not usually like this…” you begin in a gentle murmur, running your open palms anywhere you can, relishing in feeling his taut body beneath yours after fantasizing about it for so long, “Shit, it’s like news to me, but I can’t ignore my heart anymore.”

One of your hands wraps around his tie, tugging on it harshly until you’re nose to nose with the man that’s been living in your head rent free for the past few weeks.

His lust blown brown eyes search yours, as if trying to discern your identity which you assume he’ll never figure out. You’ve only ever had that one interaction and even then he had barely paid you any attention.

You feel his breath fanning across your mouth, so badly do you want to press your lips against his but you suppress the urge.

You continue to play with him, enjoying this sense of power you have with how complaint he’s being.

You expected for him to be fully dominant, which you know he’s capable of being since you watched him fuck the shit out of that one girl. But it seems like this, your taboo act and the suddenness of it, is affecting him in an entirely different way.

You put pressure against your palms, having him lay flat on his back and you hover over him, taking in all the small details of his charming face.

The frown lines, hairs of his mustache, blemishes and faint scars. Every little detail making you fall harder and harder for him. He has no idea just how much he means to you.

“What game are you playing at here, gatita?” He gives in, entranced by this enigma of a woman that’s perched over him. His calloused hands grip at your outer thighs, blunt fingernails almost ripping the fabric of your stockings.

You hum at his touch, loving the sound of the pet name, gently rocking on his lap and clutching his shirt in your fists.

“One where you’re the prize, handsome.”

You lean forward, sticking your tongue out and slowly licking a broad stripe from his chin all the way to the tip of his nose, curling your tongue when you flick at it.

His chest vibrates with a groan and you smirk at the feeling of his cock twitching underneath his pants.

“You looked so good on the news tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”

You undo his tie, toying with the notion of wrapping it around his wrists to detain him, but with what you have planned on doing to him tonight, you’d rather keep his hands accessible. 

Maybe next time.

You toss the silky fabric aside to focus on unbuttoning his shirt. He does nothing but remain silent, his chest heaving up and down while he suppresses the primal urge to take over and fuck this sweet little thing that’s dropped herself on his lap.

And you know he’s more than capable of switching the roles. He’s strong and skilled, could easily flip you onto your back and proceed to exert his dominance over you.

But you’re the one with the grand plan here, not him, and he’s indulging in your shared fantasy by letting you do whatever it is that you want, lost in a horny daze of his own.

The silence is comfortable and it further builds the sexual tension. You finish getting his shirt undone, opening it wider to get a better look at his toned body.

“So hot. You drive me crazy, agent.” You’re so wet, the slickness of your arousal seeping through the flimsy material of your thong smears against his fancy dress pants.

“Y tu, kitten, look like something out of a wet fucking dream. I have to be dreaming.”

You giggle, blushing at his words as some coyness slips into your facade.

“You’re not dreaming, papi, I promise you.” 

Leaning down once more, you begin to leave wet kisses against the cut of his jaw, suckling on the warm skin then running your nose along the length of his neck.

You take in a deep breath, smelling his cologne atop of his sweat and natural scent and you feel so high. 

No amount of cocaine comes close to how Javier Peña makes you feel.

You suck a love bite against a protruding vein in his neck, a grunt pushing past his lips at the sensation of your teeth grazing the skin. 

Satisfied with your possessive marking, you lick from his jaw all the way up to his ear, biting down on the lobe.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” You purr seductively, leaning back to look down at his absolutely wrecked face.

His puppy eyes stare up at you like you’re the only woman in the world, a goddess that’s decided to bestow such an erotic experience onto him. He knows you’re about to ruin his body for any other woman that comes after you.

You decide to be a little theatrical, slowly pulling off your gloves to reveal your pretty hands and fresh manicure.

He can’t help but bring his large hand up to grasp your wrist, pulling your hand closer to his face as he studies your nails before gently nipping at your fingers then slipping two digits into his mouth, running his tongue all over them and sucking them softly.

You gasp at the sensation, not breaking eye contact while he smirks at your reaction. Suddenly, lighting strikes and the room is illuminated for a split second in the white light. 

You both look so feral, suspended in this vivacious moment.

Pulling your hand away, you let it drag down his pouty bottom lip, pinching the delicate skin before shuffling back on his lap.

You hover again, this time at eye level with his chest as you place soft kisses against his brown skin, tongue peering out to lick his pecs then down his soft tummy.

His hips buck involuntarily and you pull back, tilting your head to the side as you look down at him.

“Stay still or this little kitten is going to find someone else to play with.”

A litany of curses fall from his lips in both English and Spanish but you pay it no mind, your attention on his belt as you unbuckle it then pop the button of his dress pants.

Leaning down, you bring your face until it’s right at his crotch and you catch the metallic zipper between your teeth.

Slowly pulling it down, your eyes flit up to him and he’s intently watching you, his own tongue hanging from his mouth like a dog in anticipation of what you’re about to do.

You press your nose into the fabric of his now exposed boxers, nuzzling your face against his erection and his breath catches in his throat.

Your wetness managed to penetrate through his pants and onto his boxers, so you kitten lick your arousal from him and he lets out a guttural moan.

Basking in the sounds of his pleasure, you continue until there’s a giant wet spot on the cotton.

Deciding that it’s time you get what you came here for, your fingers hook at the band of his bottoms, dragging them down to his mid thigh and he assists you by lifting his hips.

His cock is so fucking big. Your eyes widen at the sight as it rests against his left thigh.

It’s thick, like you imagined, with ridges and veins that are begging to be traced by the tip of your tongue.

The color of it is a little darker than the rest of his body, the weeping tip plush and leaking with excessive precum from your foreplay. It’s cut with a subtle curve, long enough to where you know if he angles it just right; he’d bruise the fuck out of your cervix.

“Mmm,” you hum, licking your lips like a woman who has been starved for far too long.

“Que pasó, nena? Cat for your tongue?” This asshole, teasing you as if he’s not the one at your mercy.

But is that really the truth? One would observe that you’re the one at his mercy; considering your obsession with the DEA agent.

“It just looks so delicious,” you purr, bringing your hand to hover your face.

Meeting his gaze, you seductively lick your palm, wetting it with your saliva before wrapping it around his throbbing length.

“Mierda,” he hisses, head dropping back against the hardwood floor as you begin to pump him in languid motions, getting a feel for what he likes. Attuned.

His flesh feels warm and smooth beneath your small hand, your thumb swipes over his tip as you collect some of his precum.

You bring it up to your lips, sucking it into your mouth and you whimper at the taste. Salty, heady, intoxicating.

You need more.

Your hand leaves his cock as you position yourself in between his strong thighs. His dick stands erect, waiting for you to lavish it in your attention.

Leaning down, you poke your tongue out to run one long, broad stripe from his balls all the way up to his head.

He shudders, fists clenching at his sides while his slit spurts out more precum.

“I got you all wet, baby.” you gloat with a gentle laugh, repeating the motion a few more times.

Each groan of his and twitch of his body influences you to keep going, placing open mouthed kisses all over his base then up and down his cock. Making out with it.

You let a wad of spit fall over his tip and watch as it drips down obscenely over his length, bringing your hand back to pump him a little faster with a tighter grip. Your saliva drips from in between your knuckles. 

“That’s it, gatita, just like that pretty girl.” He’s getting more vocal now and you’re intoxicated, drunk off his praise.

You slap the fat head of his cock against your pursed lips a few times before letting your tongue lap at the slit then sinfully lick around the tip. 

Your tongue continues its assault on his girth, lapping every inch of it like he’s a refreshing mango popsicle on a hot summer day.

The attention is then shifted on his balls as you continue to jerk him, the tip of your muscle outlining the sensitive skin before you suck one into your mouth softly.

“Puta madre, bebita, esa boquita feels like fucking heaven.”

You whimper, nuzzling your nose against his sack and taking in his musky smell. Your mouth waters, drool leaking from the corners as you reposition yourself back over his hard cock.

You part your lips, taking him slowly, inch by inch as you savor the weight of him inside your hot mouth. Your hand remains at his base while you swallow him whole, tongue lapping around the bits that it can reach.

It’s not until you feel him tickle the back of your throat that you pull back slightly, sucking your cheeks in and beginning to set a slow pace.

Up, down, up, down.

He’s so fucking big, you’re not able to take him fully down your throat… yet. You’re gonna need a moment to break open your mouth enough to fit him.

He continues with his praises. The sweet filth that fills your ears urging you to be a good girl and to suck his cock like your life depends on it.

Because it does. All you want to do is lose yourself in him, to become nothing more than just Javier’s plaything.

Tears pool at your tear ducts from the messy head you’re giving but it doesn’t deter you. You just blink them away and take him further down your throat.

You splutter and gag as he presses against your uvula, causing him to inadvertently bring his hand down to the back of your head, fisting your hair.

You wince but the pain feels delicious on your scalp. You pull away and his saliva coated cock falls from your swollen lips with a trail of spit connecting you two.

“I want you to fuck my face, Javier. Can you do that for me?”

You bat your lashes, biting on your lower lip as you look up at him.

Your back is arched sexily, giving him a good view of your ass behind you as you remain on your knees in between his legs.

“Si, gatita, whatever you want.”

He gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you back to his cock.

He slips back into your mouth easily, his hips bucking upward to fully bury himself down your throat.

You breathe through your nose as he begins to set the pace, much harsher and faster than what you’ve been doing on your own.

The filthy sounds of his groans mixed with your gagging and squelching of your mouth fill the room and it’s like music to your ears.

You fucking love this. Love the way he’s fucking your throat and using it to get himself off.

His other hand falls down to tenderly caress your cheek, cupping your jaw and that sets off an explosion of fireworks against your needy pussy, moving your hips against nothing. The simple act is enough to get you closer to your own orgasm.

Your fingernails dig into his meaty thighs when he manages to fully situate himself into your mouth, the tip of your nose brushing against his coarse pubic hairs.

He keeps you there, depriving you of oxygen and your jaw aches with how it’s been widely unhinged for the past however long.

You don’t care about your pain, you only care about tasting his cum when he finally releases inside of you.

“I’m so close baby, god damn it I could die in this pretty little mouth. Such a filthy whore, breaking into my apartment just so you can suck my cock.”

You whimper, the sound vibrating around his shaft and you bring one of your hands down beneath your skirt and panties, rubbing tight circles against your engorged clit.

He goes back to thrusting in and out of your throat while you pleasure yourself; both of you teetering on the precipice of your respective orgasms.

The hold on your hair tightens as his climax begins to peak, and the burn of it is enough to send you over the edge first.

You splutter and groan all over his cock while you cum, your release coating your fingers and dripping down your folds and onto your inner thighs.

“Fuck I’m about to cum. You better swallow every fucking drop gatita. Isn’t that what you came here for? Ah-shit, to milk my cock like the perverted bitch that you are?”

If you hadn’t cum already you would be now with his abrasive words and rougher thrusts of his hips.

“I bet, fuuuck, bet that pussy tastes so fucking sweet and feels as heavenly as this mouth. Ay gatita sucia, you gonna let me destroy your tight little cunt or are you going to leave me with just a taste of your boquita?”

You want to respond, to tell him that you want nothing more than to have his cock split you open, to render you a mess that can’t walk for days after getting fucked hard by him.

His thrusts stagger and he cums with a primitive growl, his hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat.

You moan at the feeling and he holds you flush against his pelvis while he empties his balls into you.

When he’s finally drained, you tentatively let him fall from your mouth with a lewd pop, some of his spend still resting on your tongue.

You climb up his body again, noticing the bead of sweat dripping from the tip of his brow and down his chiseled cheek. His lips are swollen, much like yours, from chewing on it due to the intensity of your ministrations.

His dark eyes are swimming with lust and adoration, shallow breaths exhaling from his nostrils.

You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out so he can see his milky cum against the pink muscle before you retract it and swallow exaggeratedly, smirking as you bring the back of your hand up to wipe the saliva and other fluids that coat the bottom half of your face.

“Thank you for keeping us safe from the narcos, agent.” You whisper, reaching for your gloves to slip them back on.

He watches intently before he raises the hand that had just cupped your cheek affectionately to the edge of your mask, beginning to lift it up to expose your identity.

“Quien eres, gatita?”

You stop him by grasping his wrist harshly, shaking your head.

“Un secreto,” you whisper back, close enough to where your lips are softly brushing against each other.

Moving his hand away from your face, your eyes gaze into his one final time before you lean in to press a sweet kiss against his lips. 

It’s everything and more, the feeling of his mouth slotting against yours in the most passionate kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone.

You pull back before things get heated again, your mission now complete until the next time.

“I’m going to leave now,” you begin in a hushed tone, “and you’re going to stay right here. You’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

Another tilt of your head and you can see the resistance in his stare, how badly he wants to keep you here like a pet. His kitten.

But he nods ever so slightly, his finger twirling a strand of your hair around it before tugging on it softly.

“Will I see you again?”

Yes, but you don’t reveal this to him so easily.

“Only if you do something worth warranting a visit.”

With that, you rise from his lap, your long legs on either side of his waist as you look down upon this man you just wrecked without giving him your name or letting him get a good look at your face.

His eyes trail over you, trying to etch the image of you in his mind for the lonely days that are about to come.

He won’t forget you, that’s for sure. You’re about to infiltrate his mind in the same manner in which he infiltrated yours.

The soft click of your heels can be heard as you depart from his bedroom, leaving him with his soft cock out and pants down his legs.

Before closing the bedroom door behind you, you stop and look at him over your shoulder.

“Goodnight agent.”

The minutes tick by antagonizingly slow before he scrambles to get up, grunting at the subtle pain in his back as he tucks himself back into his pants and picks his gun up to place on the dresser.

He follows your wet trail down the hallway and to the glass door of his balcony that you purposefully left cracked; an answer to his earlier question.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

He smirks when he sees the heart shape you’ve left against the surface. 

Translations: gatita (kitten), sucia (dirty), boquita (little mouth), Que pasó, nena (what's wrong baby), Puta madre (motherfucker).

[cherrylovelycherry]

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Trios never work

pairing. Aventurine x gn!reader x Dr ratio (poly) cw/genre. angst, some slow burn, anxiety vomiting, drink, being left out, slight addiction issue. synopsis. you couldn't stand to be left out any longer. full menu

You watched the television disinterestedly, not paying attention to whatever is on that channel.

You, Aventurine and Ratio have been together for a little over a year now. At first, it was great, you three were inseparable and you did almost everything together. Moved in, split chores and expenses, that sort of thing.

That is, until you started being left out by them. You've always known they're closer to each other as they've been in love for time, but why did they even want you there if they'd just… forget about you?

Today is no different, unfortunately. You're stuck beside them, having to watch them cuddle and talk to each other while you just sit by yourself. Finally having enough, you stand from your spot, making your way towards the door.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Aventurine asks as Ratio buries his face into his neck gently, his arms around his waist. Ratio looks up at you as well, his eyes taking in your expression, "You look upset. Is something bothering you?"

Your shoulders slump, eyes not quite meeting theirs. "Nothing." you reply softly, shifting uncomfortably. A slight lie.

Your throat tightens, "I was just going to go for a little walk," you murmur, a forced smile on your lips.

Ratio gives you a slightly skeptical look before sitting up to properly look at you, his arms still around Aventurine. "Why do you need a walk? Are you feeling unwell?" He asks.

"No, I just…" You stumble over your words, your voice growing shaky. "I just need a bit of air. Fresh air." They're so focused on you, eyes scanning you with hints of worry and curiosity, and yet—you still can't help but feel left out. It's the way they're still holding close to each other, not making any effort to reach out to you instead. It stings a bit.

There's a bit of a pause, the air between you turning a little tense as Ratio seems to think over your answer. He nods slowly, resting his chin on Aventurine’s shoulder.

"Alright then. Go on." He says, turning his head to press a kiss to Aventurine’s neck.

Your heart sinks a little at his words. It was so easy for him to just tell you to go. No offer to come with or ask if he should come with, nothing. It made the ache in your chest worse.

You nod silently, not trusting your voice. "I'll be going now. I'll be back soon." You murmur, slipping your shoes on and opening the door.

Aventurine opens his mouth to say something, but you’re already walking towards the front door. "Be careful on your walk," he calls out, "Don’t be out too late." You simply nod as you open the door, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips as you step outside.

You walk aimlessly, taking in the fresh air and the peaceful night sky. Still, your thoughts aren't very positive. Your mind keeps running back on how close they were, how lonely you felt being right next to them. It's exhausting, really, and it hurts more than you care to admit.

Both are left sitting together on the sofa, looking towards the door that you'd just walked out of. Aventurine hums gently. "They seemed a bit upset, don't you think?"

Ratio lets out a thoughtful hum, his expression a little grim. "Yeah…" He mutters, his eyes glued to the door. "I noticed too." His fingers begin to trace patterns on Aventurine’s waist, his touch almost absentminded as he thinks to himself.

"They've been acting a bit strange lately as well," he points out after a few moments of silence. "More down or distant, I think."

You walked leisurely through the cheerful and welcoming streets of Penacony. Which, despite being so, you did not find at all amusing.

It felt more, shall we say, boring.

You went up to the highest rooftops, seeing how pretty the lights looked and people enjoying themselves.

You felt jealous when you saw a couple taking pictures of each other. You shook your head, pushing those thoughts away.

To tell you the truth, the flat they bought here is only provisional since your boyfriends are on some kind of; mission? assignment?

You didn't really understand.

And of course, you being their partner, you're always with them wherever they go.

You sighed, crossing your arms a little as you leaned against the railings of the rooftop, looking down at the people below and the lights. The cool night air blew gently, gently brushing your hair with it.

You stayed there for a while, simply taking in the sights and sounds of the city around you. For a while it's peaceful and pleasant, a temporary distraction from the thoughts in your head. However, after a while, your mind drifts back to Ratio and Aventurine, and the ache in your chest returns.

Your mind drifts back to what's happening at home. Aventurine and Ratio. They're probably cuddling each other right now. Or they're watching a movie together. Or maybe they are kissing each other.

The thought makes your insides twist uncomfortably.

The entire place came to view before you as a chilly breeze passes you.

You let out a tiny shiver and cross your arms, hoping that it would help protect you from the cold air.

You check your phone. How long has it been since you left? Thirty minutes? An hour? Maybe two? Should you be getting back soon?

Above all, no messages or calls.

Just a few more minutes, you convince yourself. Just a few minutes more.

You let out a frustrated sigh, burying your head into your arms for a moment. The thoughts in your mind becoming louder with each passing minute.

This was unfair. They didn't even try to contact you. Not even a word.

However, you tried to cheer yourself up, thinking that maybe they had just fallen asleep. And that they were worried about you.

…Yeah, that must be it. They are probably sleeping right now. They are probably worried sick.

You try to convince yourself that they are worried just as much as you.

How can they not care? They love you, right? They care about you, right? You've been together for so long. There's no way they suddenly don't care anymore. Right?

You push yourself up, letting out a shaky breath.

You started walking again, with slow, leisurely steps.

Not to the flat, but to the bar you once stumbled upon while exploring.

Once you reached the bar, you push open the doors, stepping into the dimly lit room. There was a soft hum of music playing in the background, and several patrons were seated at the bar or lounging in the booths.

You took a quick glance around, taking in the cozy atmosphere of the place. It seemed like a nice place to relax and think.

You made your way over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools and leaning forward on the counter.

You didn't really realise how much time you spent there, at least you weren't falling or tripping over anything as you walked back to your temporary home.

However, you did have some alcohol in your veins.

You had fun, you met new people, including a Gallagher and a Siobhan.

And now you were slowly stumbling around the streets, your mind and body fuzzy from intoxication. The alcohol had definitely taken its toll on you, dulling your senses and affecting your judgment.

As you reached your temporary home, you fumbled with the keys, trying to find the right one to unlock the door. Finally, after a few failed attempts, you manage to open the door and stumble inside.

The living room was dimly lit, with just a few lamps lit around the room. Ratio and Aventurine were nowhere to be seen, and a quick glance around confirmed that they were probably in the bedroom.

You stumble over to the couch, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. You drop down onto the cushions with a soft thump, your body feeling heavy and tired.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath as you lean back against the couch. Your head was spinning slightly from the alcohol, but despite that, your mind suddenly became more clear.

All the thoughts you've been pushing down started flooding back in, and your chest clenches painfully as you’re reminded of why you went out in the first place.

Sighing deeply, you got up from the sofa, slowly taking off your shoes.

Then you made your way to the bedroom.

There you both were, sleeping face to face.

Without thinking too much and without changing your clothes, you climbed into bed, putting yourself in the middle of both of them, trying to make some space for yourself. Being careful not to wake them up.

Ratio stirred slightly as you settled yourself beside him, his arm wrapping around your waist unconsciously. Aventurine shifted closer to you, pressing his body against yours.

You were surrounded by them, their bodies warm and familiar.

For a while, you just lay there between them, feeling the rise and fall of their breaths, listening to the soft rustling of their limbs.

You felt a strange mix of comfort and pain at being here. Comforted by their presence, pained by how distant they felt.

You were tired, both physically and emotionally. Your body ached from the alcohol, and your heart ached with something else.

Lying there, between the two men you loved, you felt more alone than ever.

But, oh, the warmth they radiated made your eyes glaze over.

They were so close, yet so far away.

They clutched onto you, as if they needed you, but they didn't?

You couldn't help but watch them as they slept, Ratio's arm wrapped firmly around your waist, Aventurine's head resting on your shoulder.

Everything felt so familiar, yet so… distant.

Were you overthinking things? Were you making a big deal out of this?

They love you… right?

You watch as Ratio mumbled something in his sleep, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the action, a strange mix of warmth and pain coursing through your body.

You knew you shouldn't be feeling like this. You shouldn't be doubting their love for you. They've been with you for so long, they've said they love you so many times.

But still, the doubts linger in your mind, whispering and gnawing at your heart.

Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was just your own insecurities, but you suddenly felt the urge to cry.

Maybe it was just the alcohol.

You opened your eyes slowly, almost as if you didn't want to wake up from your warm and peaceful sleep.

You found yourself lying on your back, your head resting on a firm yet comfy pillow. There was a comforting pressure on both sides of your waist, holding you carefully but firmly in place.

As you opened your eyes more, you realized that you weren't alone in bed. Ratio and Aventurine's bodies were pressed against yours from both sides, their limbs tangled with yours in a way that you were completely encircled between them.

Ratio's head was resting on your shoulder, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm and slow against your skin.

Aventurine's arm was draped over your waist, his hand resting firmly but gently on your hip. His forehead was pressed against your shoulder, his messy hair tickling your face.

"Morning…" Ratio mumbled groggily as you struggled in their grips, his arm tightening around your waist.

Aventurine stirred as well, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and mumbling something incoherent.

You could feel the warmth of their breath against your skin, the way their bodies were still pressed against yours with no signs of moving.

You groaned again, feeling like you were trapped in a warm, loving cage.

But despite the comfort, you felt frustrated.

"Stop…" You muttered, trying to push them off.

The two men responded with mumbled protests, their grips on your waist only getting tighter.

"Come on guys, you have work to do." You spoke, tiredly.

They both grumbled, starting to let go of you little by little.

"No offense," Ratio mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, "But you smell like alcohol. Did you drink last night?" Aventurine opened his eyes slowly, looking up at you from his spot on your shoulder.

His voice was gentle but held a hint of concern. "Yeah, where'd you go?" He asked softly, rubbing at his eyes.

Great, just great.

You could already feel the hangover creeping in, and to add to your misery, there was a hint of concern in their voices.

You tried to brush it off, giving them a small smile.

"That doesn't matter…" You mumbled, avoiding both of their gazes. "What matters is you two have work to do."

Ratio sighed, letting his grip on you loosen completely. "We do have work, but we're more concerned about you," He said, propping himself up on his elbow.

Aventurine followed, propping himself up next to Ratio and looking at you with an expression that was a mix of concern and annoyance.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. At the time they worried.

"I just needed some space." You replied, feeling like a child getting scolded, shifting slightly to try and sit up.

"Space, huh?" Aventurine said, his voice still slightly hoarse from sleep. "You could have at least told us where you were going."

Ratio chimed in as well, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. "Yeah, a warning would have been nice. We were worried about you."

This time you rolled your eyes quietly, but tried not to show them any obvious annoyance.

"I'm a grown adult," you retorted, a hint of defensiveness in your voice. "I can handle myself."

Ratio raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes searching your face. "That doesn't mean we're not going to worry." he said, his voice firm.

Aventurine sat up as well, propping himself up with one arm.

"It's not about you being able to handle yourself," he said, his voice a mixture of annoyance and concern. "We had no idea where you were."

Ratio nodded in agreement, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Oh. When I got home, they were sleeping peacefully." You said, with a hint of bitterness.

They both exchanged glances, the annoyance in their expressions not going unnoticed by you.

Ratio sighed, running a hand through his hair once more.

"That's not the point," he said, his voice still firm. "You were gone for hours. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

Aventurine joined in as well, his voice slightly more gentle than Ratio's. "We thought something might have happened to you."

You let out a heavy sigh, not saying anything.

Aventurine's voice still laced with concern. "You could have at least texted us."

Then he reached over and touched your arm gently. "It's just… we care about you. We want to know you're safe."

You bit back the urge to scoff at the hypocrisy.

"Yeah, well… I'm fine. See?" You gestured to yourself, trying to show that you were indeed in one piece.

You could feel the guilt creeping in, mixed with annoyance. Why did they suddenly care now?

"I just needed…", you paused, trying to find the right word to describe your current feelings. "space," you finished lamely.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance before looking back at you.

"Space from what?" Ratio asked, his tone slightly colder now.

You were starting to feel frustrated.

Why was it suddenly such a big deal? Why did they have to make such a big issue out of you needing some time alone?

"Space from…", you started to respond, but then you hesitated.

How could you possibly explain it to them without sounding needy or clingy?

You wanted to tell them what's been bothering you, but something held you back.

Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was the fear of sounding like a needy child.

But before you could find the words, Ratio spoke up.

"Space from us, I presume." He said, his voice cool. "You needed space from us, didn't you?"

You felt a pang of guilt at Ratio's words, your heart clenching in your chest.

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but you could feel the emotions starting to bubble up inside of you.

"No," you lied, immediately. "It's not that."

Aventurine raised an eyebrow at your denial, his grip on your arm tightening slightly.

"Then what is it?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Ugh, please don't do this." You said grabbing your head. The hangover was starting to affect you harder, combining with the stress you felt now.

Ratio chuckled quietly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, so now we're being dramatic, huh?" he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Aventurine spoke up as well, his voice tinged with irritation. "We're not doing anything, we're just trying to understand what's going on with you."

Ratio leaned back, propping himself up against the headboard.

"You've been acting different lately," he said, his gaze focused on you. "More distant, less responsive."

You wanted to protest, to deny their accusations, but the words got stuck in your throat. They were right, and you knew they were right.

But you couldn't tell them why. Not yet, at least.

"I've just… been feeling a bit stressed," you replied vaguely, avoiding their gazes.

"Come on, don't give us that bullshit."

At Aventurine's words, your eyes widened slightly. He normally didn't say that kind of thing.

However, that didn't stop you from feeling uncomfortable and with a taste of pure bitterness in your mouth.

You proceeded to let out an unfunny laugh, as you got out of bed.

"My head hurts too much for this." You said, with some coldness in your tone as you left the room.

"You two should already be continuing with your work. That's why both came here." You raised your voice so they could hear you since you were heading towards the kitchen.

As they heard your words, Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance.

Ratio ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh.

"They are so damn… infuriating," he muttered, his annoyance evident.

Aventurine nodded, his expression mirrored Ratio's frustration. "I don't even know what's going on with them," he replied, running a hand over his face. "They are been acting weird for days now."

You could hear them both stirring in the bedroom, their voices lowered, but you knew they were talking about you.

"Probably bad things.", you thought.

You rubbed your temples as you entered the kitchen, the lights feeling brighter and only making your migraine worse.

You rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a painkiller or something, when you heard footsteps behind you.

"You shouldn't mix alcohol with pain killers, y'know," Ratio's voice was low and calm, but there was an edge to it.

You paused what you were doing, looking over your shoulder at him.

Ratio's face was set in a frown, and Aventurine's expression was stern.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.

You didn't respond, continuing to rummage through the cabinets in search of pain medication.

Ratio watched you silently for a moment, his eyes studying your every move.

"You're being stubborn," he said after a while, his voice neutral yet laced with annoyance.

"Thanks." You responded dryly, in a murmur.

Ratio rolled his eyes at your response, his annoyance growing visible.

"You know that's not what I meant," he sighed, running a hand through his hair once more.

It was becoming a tic of his.

Aventurine spoke up as well, his voice a bit calmer than Ratio's.

"You're acting like a child." He said, crossing his arms over his chest as well.

Oh, Aeons.

You felt frustrated by their words and by the pain in your head.

You slammed the cabinet shut with more force than necessary and turned to face them.

"Both should stop wasting time here and concentrate on your work." You spat, rubbing your head with both hands, you felt like it was going to explode at any moment.

Ratio raised an eyebrow at your sudden outburst, his expression slightly surprised.

"And there it is," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "The real Y/N, finally decided to show up."

Aventurine watched you intently, his eyes scanning your face.

"Oh, because we're wasting time by trying to check on your well-being?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aventurine stayed silent, simply observing your interaction with Ratio. He was probably trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation.

Ratio took a couple steps closer to you, his gaze not leaving yours.

"You should stop being so goddamn stubborn and just talk to us." He said, his annoyance growing more noticeable.

Oh no. You started to feel the sudden urge to vomit. That was bad.

Your expression went from irritated to slightly dizzy.

"Guys, stop it, we can continue later." You said, as you grabbed onto the kitchen counter.

The nausea was the effect of the hangover and excessive stress you were feeling now.

Ratio immediately realized something was wrong as he noticed your expression changing. His annoyance was quickly replaced by concern.

"Y/N?" he asked, taking another step towards you, his eyes watching your hand clutching the counter.

Aventurine also moved closer, his gaze shifting between you and Ratio. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the nausea that was rising in your stomach. "I'm fine," you said weakly, but your trembling voice betrayed your words.

"Maybe I need—" Your words were cut off by the urgent need to throw up, causing you to cover your mouth, running towards the bathroom.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance before following hot on your heels. They hurried into the bathroom, just in time to see you hunched over the toilet, vomiting.

Ratio gently placed a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you retched.

Aventurine appeared again in the doorway with a glass of water in hand.

"Here," Ratio said, grabbing the water from Aventurine and handing it to you. "Drink slowly."

You gripped the glass of water with trembling fingers, taking a few small sips as Ratio instructed. The cool liquid helped to soothe your burning throat.

After a while, your vomiting subsided, leaving you feeling even more weak and tired than before. You slumped back against Ratio, feeling completely drained and miserable.

"Sorry," you whispered, your voice raspy and weak.

Ratio shook his head, his hand still rubbing slow circles on your back. "Don't apologize," he said softly.

By the time you turned to look at Aventurine, he was gone.

You did the same to see Ratio who was next to you, he wasn't there either.

Oh, right. They were never here with you, they stayed in the kitchen. You never drank water, you never had your back rubbed.

You really wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

You stood up heavily from the ground, rinsing your mouth with the water from the tap, and flushing the toilet. Then with slow steps you returned to the bedroom.

You didn't care to know if they were still in the apartment.

You hated it when your body reacted to your stress.

They were engaged in hushed whispers, their voices too low for you to hear. They stayed in the kitchen, just like you thought.

When they saw you walk in the bedroom, they immediately stopped talking and turned to look at you.

Ratio's expression was a mix of concern and annoyance, his arms crossed over his chest. Aventurine, on the other hand, had a troubled look on his face, his brows furrowed in thought.

At least you would feel calm being alone in the apartment. Without showing each other affection every minute, in front of you, without giving you anything like that.

You climbed into bed, covering yourself with the covers, trying to relax.

A few minutes passed before Aventurine spoke out loud.

"Uhm, we're leaving, we'll be back soon." He said.

You heard the door open and close.

You were glad to hear the sound of the door closing behind, signaling that they were leaving. At least you could finally have some peace and quiet.

You closed your eyes and attempted to fall asleep, hoping to get some rest and recover from the hangover and the previous encounter.

You rested a little more, after a few hours you got up and tried to distract yourself.

You watched television, you played games on your phone, you ate the odd snack. That is until it got later.

While you were on the couch, you heard the door open. They had returned.

Ratio and Aventurine walked through the door, their expressions serious.

Aven, as usual, was the first to speak up. "Hey."

Hey, is that all they could say? It was as if they didn't realize that they were being insensitive.

But suddenly you were doing it too, so you ignored it.

Ratio spoke up as well, his expression slightly softer. "How are you feeling?"

You shrugged, not meeting their gaze. "Good." You replied coldly, trying to hide your annoyance.

Aventurine gave you a quick glance before sighing. "We brought food." He said, holding up a bag containing takeout food.

"Oh, uhm." You blurted out, feeling uncomfortable.

"Thank you, but I'm not very hungry." You got up from the couch, leaving the television on, while you stretched.

"I'm going out for a while again." You said, walking into the bedroom, and changing out of your sleepwear into something simple.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance as you left to change. They were both aware of the tension in the air and your mood.

Ratio let out a sigh.

"This is hopeless," he muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Aventurine looked at Ratio, understanding his frustration.

"We just have to keep trying," he replied, though his voice had a tinge of uncertainty.

You left the room, going to put on your shoes, passing them.

"Well, I'll be right back." You said calmly.

Ratio couldn't help but roll his eyes at your words.

"Yeah, we'll see about that." He muttered under his breath. Aventurine gave him a stern look, silently warning him not to push things further. They both knew that this situation was quickly becoming a headache for all three of you.

You finished putting your shoes on and grabbed your keys, leaving the house without saying another word.

They watched as you closed the door behind you. The silence in the apartment became thick and uncomfortable. The television was on, being the only sound that could be heard.

This type of situation happened, once, twice, three times. And more.

A little routine of yours, like you try not to be in the apartment when they are there too.

Waking up tired and dizzy, saying cold and boring words between the three of them, waiting for hours for them to return and once they did, you went to the bar, returning hours later, tripping over things in the apartment, falling asleep on the couch or in bed.

And it was repeated, again.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

The cycle seemed endless, caught in a loop that seemed impossible to break.

Ratio and Aventurine were frustrated, frustrated by the walls you had built around yourself and the communication issues that prevented you from opening up.

They wanted to help you, but they didn't know how to approach the situation. They couldn't help but feel like they were doing something wrong.

But no, that couldn't be, they knew they weren't doing anything wrong. Right?

Ratio and Aventurine sat in silence for a while, both lost in thought. They knew they needed to address the situation, but it was hard, especially since you were avoiding them.

"I hate this," Ratio finally spoke up, breaking the silence. "I hate that they are behaving like this."

Aventurine nodded, a frustrated expression on his face. "I know." He said, holding Ratio's hand.

It was already nearing midnight, and there was no sign of you returning home, again.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and frustration. They had been talking about you, again.

This time they would wait for you, they were not going to rest until they could talk to you once and for all and stop making you avoid the conversation.

"I feel like we're going around in circles." Ratio spoke up again. "Every time we try to talk to them, they shuts us out. It's like they are not even trying."

Aventurine squeezed Ratio's hand, trying to comfort him. "There must be a reason why they are acting like this," he said, although even he seemed doubtful.

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Is there? Because I can't think of one that makes sense."

They waited, and waited, and waited.

Time dragged on slowly, tick, tock, tick, tock, the clock seemed to move slower every second.

They waited with anticipation and expectation, sitting motionless on the couch, their eyes fixed on the front door.

And then, finally, they heard the jingle of keys, the sound of the door opening, and your footsteps entering.

Ratio and Aventurine immediately sat up straight, turning to look at you as you stepped inside.

As a matter of course, you were drunk.

Ratio and Aventurine couldn't help but notice the way you swayed slightly as you walked, a slight flush on your cheeks betraying your intoxication.

Ratio let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you. "Where have you been all night?" he asked, his voice betraying his annoyance.

Aventurine, sensing the tension in the room, stayed silent but placed a calming hand on Ratio's arm, hoping to soothe the situation.

"Having fun." You said, smiling a little.

Ratio's eyes narrowed at your response. "Having fun? Is that what you call it? Drinking yourself into oblivion every day?"

Aventurine shot Ratio a look, silently urging him to calm down. Him speaking this time.

"We're worried about you, you know that?" he continued, his voice rising. "We—"

"Hah, like you said—don't give me that bullshit." Your voice came out almost with spit words.

Your mind was fuzzy.

Ratio clenched his fists, his irritation growing. "We're not giving you bullshit. We care about you, damnit."

You chuckled bitterly, your words slurring slightly. "Yeah, I'm sure you care, but only when it suits you both."

Ratio's eyes widened at your response, his anger rising. "Excuse me?"

"We're the ones who should be getting pissed off here. You're the one who's been acting like a complete mess."

Aventurine tried to interject again. "Ratio, this isn't—"

But Ratio wasn't having it. "No, Aven. They needs to hear this." He turned back to you. "You've been avoiding us, avoiding everything, and for what? So you can go get drunk every night?"

"Yeah, exactly. Because being around you two is so damn great." You retorted, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

Ratio's expression darkened even further, his next words cutting through the air like a dagger.

"Oh, is that right? I guess being with us is so unbearable that you have to go out and get drunk every night instead of staying here and facing your own damn problems."

Your eyes narrowed at Ratio's words, your own anger starting to boil over.

"Yeah, because it's better than dealing with your bullshit all the time."

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Bullshit? You think we're bullshitting you? We're the ones who've been putting up with your crap, your avoiding us, your reckless behavior."

Your eyes widened at Ratio's harsh words, hurt flashing across your face.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," you said angrily, your voice shaking. "You have no idea how I feel."

Ratio scoffed, his irritation reaching a boiling point. "Oh, really? Then why don't you enlighten us? Why do you feel the need to drink every night?"

"Seriously, you can tell us." Aventurine said, his brow now furrowed, a mix of worry and frustration on his face.

You let out a scoff, your words coming out in a rush. "And what, you want me to spill my heart out to you two, like it's some kind of therapy session? I didn't realize I was dealing with a couple of psychologists here."

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Well, it's not like you're giving us anything else to work with. You just keep drinking yourself into oblivion every night, avoiding us, avoiding any kind of conversation."

You clenched your fists, your frustration turning into anger. "Oh, aren't both of you so perfect?"

Ratio's expression hardened. "Don't try to turn this around on us. We never said we were perfect, but at least we're trying to communicate and have a conversation. You're the one who's refusing to listen or talk to us."

Aventurine interjected, his voice laced with concern. "Y/N, please. We just want to help you. We don't—"

"Help me?" You snapped, again cutting Aventurine off.

"Hey, watch your tone." Ratio said, at the shout you gave to Aventurine.

"Hah, just that.", You thought, looking at them with anger and irritation.

Your anger flared, your words coming out in a frustrated hiss. "Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that you really want to help me? Please. You're both probably just worried that I'm gonna ruin your perfect little lives."

Ratio's eyes widened at your accusation, stung by your words. "Is that really what you think of us? That we only care about ourselves?"

Aventurine spoke up again, his voice pleading. "No, that's not true at all. We care about you. We care about us."

"Yeah, right." You replied bitterly, crossing your arms.

Ratio's face twisted into a scowl. "We're just as messed up as you are. We have our own issues and problems to deal with. We don't need you acting like this, avoiding us, drinking excessively—"

"Yeah, because I'm the ONLY ONE who's being problematic, right?" You interrupted, sarcasm lacing your words. "Just because I don't sit next to both of you and start to fucking endure how both are so loving and happy between ONLY the two of you, I'm wrong here, huh?"

Ratio's jaw clenched tightly, his temper rising at your accusations.

"That's bullshit and you know it. We're a team, a relationship. We're supposed to be in this together, working through things together."

You felt the growing lump in your throat. "Fuck, no. We're not a team anymore, it's just you being a fucking couple."

You clenched your fists, trying to calm the wave of emotions that was washing over you.

Ratio's expression hardened at your words, his own emotions warring with his irritation.

"What the hell do you mean we're not a team anymore? We're still together, we're still—"

You cut him off, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "No, we're not. Not really. Not when you both spend all your time together, sharing moments, laughing, even in sex."

Ratio's eyes widened at your words, hurt evident on his face.

"Is that really what you think?" he asked, his voice low. "That we're just a couple and that you're not a part of us anymore?"

Aventurine's face fell, his expression pained. "No, that's not true. You're just as much a part of this relationship as we are."

"I'm just a third wheel," you said bitterly. "That's what I've always been."

Even though your words affected them, Ratio couldn't help but get more frustrated.

"And whose fault is that, huh? Whose fault is it that you keep pushing us away, that you keep avoiding us, that you keep getting drunk every damn night instead of dealing with the problem?"

You clenched your fists even tighter, your nails digging into your palms.

"Oh, so now it's MY fault, huh? It's MY fault that I feel left out, ignored, and sidelined?"

You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at what he was saying.

"Yeah…maybe it's my fault." You spoke again, feeling your eyes sting. At any moment they would be filled with tears.

"It's my damn fault that both have sex secretly from me, it's my fault that both knew each other before, it's my fault that both are more affectionate with each other, it's my damn fault that both know each other much more than you two know me!"

And that's it, with that, your voice cut off. Being unable to see both men's faces as tears clouded your vision.

Ratio's expression softened at the sight of your tears, his irritation momentarily forgotten.

It was true, he and Aventurine had been more affectionate with each other lately. But that wasn't because they didn't care about you, it was just…

No, there really were no words to deny or defend the accusations.

He sighed, trying to find the words to explain themselves. "Look, we didn't mean for it to be like that. It just happened."

Aventurine spoke up, his voice soft. "We never wanted you to feel left out or ignored. We care about you, we really do."

Ratio stepped closer as well, his expression conflicted between anger and concern. "Y/N, we never wanted you to feel left out. That was never our intention."

But your emotions were running high.

"Then what was your intention, huh? To make me feel like an outsider in my own relationship?"

They both stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to that.

"That is what I thought." You blurted out, in frustration.

Ratio pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression shifting to frustration and guilt.

"That's not what we wanted, that's never what we wanted."

You let out a bitter, unfunny laugh, "Oh, shut it."

You were shaking, you really wanted to just not feel like that.

"It's always you two. Always Aventurine and Ratio. Always Kakavasha and Veritas."

"Fuck all that." You spat, as your tears began to come out like waterfalls.

"Where the hell was I there?" You sobbed, covering your face with both hands. You felt humiliated to be seen crying like that.

"I hate it so much." You mumbled, without a hint of stopping your crying.

Ratio's heart ached at the sight of your tears, realizing the depth of your emotional pain.

Aventurine stood beside him, visibly upset as well.

"Y/N, please…" He tried to reach out to you, his hand hovering in the air.

But you flinched away from his touch, your body shrinking back as more tears streamed down your face.

"Don't." You warned, your voice choked with sobs. "Don't touch me."

Ratio and Aventurine stood there, feeling helpless as they watched you cry.

"We never wanted to make you feel like this."

"You're lying." You retorted, your voice raw from crying.

Aventurine shook his head, his expression pleading. "No, that's not true. We love you, we truly do."

Ratio's hands were shaking slightly, torn between wanting to comfort you and respecting your wish not to be touched.

Aventurine looked like he was on the verge of tears as well, his shoulders slumped with guilt.

Ratio said softly. "We never meant for it to be this way."

But your words cut through the air between you all.

"Then why did it happen?" You asked, your voice laced with pain and anguish.

Ratio's jaw clenched as he struggled to find the words to explain.

"It just…happened." He said weakly. "We got caught up in our own relationship and didn't realize that we were neglecting you."

Aventurine nodded alongside him. "We messed up. We should have paid more attention to you, made more of an effort to include you in our activities."

Ratio winced, knowing how hollow those words sounded.

"But just because we made a mistake doesn't mean we don't care about you." Ratio was quick to add.

You let out a bitter chuckle through sniffles and sobs.

"…That 'mistake' is 3 fucking years old." You spoke in a muffled manner. Breathing heavily.

How they left you aside is not recent, it had been years. The bomb was accumulating until today it exploded.

The reality of the situation hit Ratio and Aventurine hard.

Three years. Three years of ignoring your emotions and needs. Three years of putting their own relationship before you, despite claiming that you were all equal in this relationship.

Both felt a pang of guilt and shame in their chest. How could they have let it go on for so long without realizing the harm they were causing you?

Aventurine looked equally devastated, his face pale and his eyes downcast.

"We…we never realized…" He began, his voice choked with emotion.

Ratio, seeing Aventurine's almost tearful state, rubbed his back slowly.

Ratio's head was spinning, trying to figure out how it had come to this. They had always thought that they were in a healthy and happy relationship. But clearly, they had failed to consider the impact their actions were having on you.

He looked at you, still crying and curled up on yourself. The guilt and remorse gnawed at his insides. He and Aventurine had been fools, blinded by their own selfishness and neglectful behavior.

Aventurine spoke up suddenly, his voice shaky. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell us how you felt?"

Ratio's eyes widened slightly. That was a fair question. Why hadn't you spoken up before now?

But he immediately realized the answer to that question. If you had tried to bring it up, how would they have reacted? Would they have dismissed your feelings, or maybe gotten defensive?

With your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trying to catch the air lost through crying, you let out slight hiccups.

With one of your hands you wiped your wet cheeks.

Your head was beginning to ache from the alcohol in your veins and the dehydration from crying.

"Ah…it doesn't really matter anymore." You said, your voice hoarse.

And you were right, there was no point in questioning why, if you'd finished getting everything out that you'd been holding in for so long.

You felt their worried and trembling looks, you felt ashamed and humiliated for having exploded in such a way, your sobs had faded into sniffles and deep breathing.

They both listened to your words with a sinking feeling in their stomachs. Your voice was hoarse and strained, but the message was clear: you'd given up.

You stretched slightly in your seat, starting to walk towards the bedroom.

You wanted to simply rest from it all.

"I'm going to go to sleep now." You said, passing by both of their sides.

The conversation, or rather argument, had not ended well and just expressing yourself left you completely exhausted.

They both knew that they hadn't solved anything, that they'd done nothing more than reveal just how distant they had become from you.

Before you disappeared from his sight, Aven called out to you, making you turn around for a while.

"We love you, sweetheart."

That simple phrase made you let out a silent sigh.

As much as you wanted to smile at least a little, it only came out as a grimace.

"Uhm…okay, I guess." You said, not really feeling his words.

They felt totally empty.

You turned your head again, walking into the bedroom. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts were varying, the same with your feelings, they were all jumbled.

But at least one thing was clear to you; trios never work and never will.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[souporsaladnatural]

Fan: “Hi I’m Tessa, and my question is ‘Were there any moments, like scenes or episodes, in Supernatural where you were especially proud of your acting because you had done something and you felt you did it really good or you, like, had to portray a really hard emotion?”

Misha Collins: [...] Uhm, there was a scene, um, gosh I don’t remember what season it was, I want to say maybe season eight? It’s when Sam is possessed by… Gadreel?”

Other Fan: “Season nine!”

Misha: “Season nine, I was really close. Um, and, Bob Singer was directing, you [points at Jensen] were back- uh- behind the monitors, and in this scene, uh, Sam, who’s now possessed as Gadreel, is coming up toward me, and Bob Singer- um, he- he was was a big fan of like 1970s cinema, and there was this one shot that he really wanted to get which was just me punching directly into the camera. Uhm, and then Sam as Gadreel was gonna pass out. And this was like kind of just a cool moment of just being like in tune with the choreography of the moment.

And so I threw the punch, directly into the lens, and um, and everyone behind, uh, video village, which is where they’re watching on the monitors, where Jensen was and Bob Singer was, um, started laughing. An, um, Jensen came out into- We were in the kitchen, we were shooting on location in the kitchen, [laughing] and Jensen came out and said, ‘Misha that was fucking hilarious!... Oh, you weren’t kidding.’ Cause he registered the look on my face and then he said ‘Come here.’ and we went back to the monitors and they did the playback, and the idea was the fist goes right into the lens on the camera. And I did this. [Weird arm swing motion]”

-

Context! This was right before Jensen gave his answer to this question, where instead of talking about a scene he was proud of himself for, he talked about how incredible Misha's acting was in the confession scene and how proud he was of him.

Misha: (tries to be silly and self-deprecating)

Jackles: So You Have Chosen Soliloquy

[x]

[ohithankyou]

thinking about why bucktommy feel so different and why maybe so many of us have latched on to them the way we have and I can’t speak for everyone else but for me, it’s very simply - the romance of it all. one of the elements I’ve always found to be missing or lacking in buck’s previous romantic relationships was the romance. and this isn’t a dig at his past relationships, honestly the writing didn’t set them up for success. but with buck and tommy, there’s such a strong level of romance injected in their moments that it’s hard not to fall for them, fall with them.

i mean, it’s there from the beginning. there’s romance present in the way buck reacts to and remembers tommy’s mouth static. in the way he reaches out and places his hand on tommy’s shoulder after seeing bobby and athena reunite; in the way tommy reaches back. it’s present in the way buck tries and tries and tries to spend time with tommy before he even knows what his feelings are; in the way tommy comes over in person to check in on him. there’s romance present in every “evan”, every “hey”, and every “of course” that escapes tommy’s lips. there’s romance written all over their first kiss. in the way tommy says “i can teach you” and in buck’s head tilt and “okay, and will that be right after our flying lessons.”

there’s romance in tommy topping up buck’s beer and paying for their date (even though buck is the one who owes him the beer). it’s present in the way buck can’t stop thinking about tommy, and in the way they both meet each other half-way after a bump in the road. it’s in the way buck fusses over tommy’s lack-of-a costume; and in tommy’s dry, deadpan response to buck’s fuss. there’s romance in buck’s pouty-ness when he realizes tommy has to leave the party and in the way tommy shows up at the end because he promised he’d try. there’s romance present in the way buck brings tommy into the hospital room after the ceremony — like he’s the guest of honour; in the way they make their relationship known to his loved one’s; and in the way they look for each other’s reactions after ravi makes a joke at the medal ceremony buffet.

there’s romance in the way they look at each other; smitten, piercing. in the way they listen to each other; laser focused, hanging on to every word. in the way they touch each other; gentle, passionate, eager, soft. there’s romance in tommy’s “you okay”, and in the way they can read each other’s moods — when to keep going, when to stop, when to change the topic. there’s romance in the way they can go from serious and vulnerable, to flirty and horny in the span of a minute; in their comfortability with each other. there’s romance present in the way they don’t know everything about each other but are willing and wanting to try, to learn. and there’s romance in the way buck hasn’t had to talk to bobby, about tommy, like he had to about his past partners.

really, there’s so much romance in their whole story thus far, in the big moments and the little ones, and this is just the beginning. and also, the potential for more romance — a deeper, aching, fulfilling, forever-kind-of-romance — is so so so great.