#and now i'm really having a shit time with everything and wanna just pop out of existing

[jolapeno]

meet me in the city where we won't sleep

javier peña x f!reader | main masterlist

summary: home: a place where we feel most comfortable, loved, and protected — where we most feel at home. except javi, who has returned from colombia and feels his home is living miles away.

childhood besties!javi x f!reader

wordcount: 9k (i'm so sorry)

warnings: childhood best friend!javi. flirting. 18+ - although just a little smutty with fingers. brief mention of drunkenness years ago. emotions (ugh) and feelings (yuk) and idiots who just don't wanna confess things but really should. javi calls you flor and you call him a pineapple. alternating times.

an: originally started for april showers, it's taken me an age to get this done because i wanted it to be perfect. i really hope it is. the biggest thank you to @thetriumphantpanda who read all of this and gave me a gold star. it would have stayed in my drafts if not for you. thank you to @rhoorl for checking my spanish.

It would have been cliche to say he fell for you in a field of bluebonnets—your dress white, face glum, hands ripping up blooms from the soil that you clutched in your hand.

Lost, aimless, both in the blue of the petals and in your thoughts as you continued to yank stems up and bring bunches to your nose, unaware of him watching from the tree. His legs swung, and a smile slid into one cheek as the leaves rustled above in the warm breeze.

It took a while before you noticed him, practically half a field’s worth in your hands, hands wound around them as your dress swished at your ankles.

“What do you want, Piña?”

He supposed, for kids, that was an insult.

“What you doing in my field, Flor?”

Javi didn’t know your name then. Now he struggled to go a minute without thinking it.

Sitting still hadn’t seemed a possibility in the days since he’d been back.

And then, that’s all he’d done for the last eight hours before he was greeted by rain.

It’s relentless, an onslaught that blurs the world into a watery haze. The kind that soaks through every layer of clothing like a challenge; the type that drips from everything, making pools in the streets and turning them into dark mirrors, reflecting the grey and full clouds from above.

Not that Javi cares.

If anything, he likes it. Finds it cleansing, like the world is being washed clean, even if he knows how untrue that actually is as his eyes follow a bead rushes across the glass of the cab.

The driver has been mumbling about the weather for the entire journey—a thing he’s barely listened to since he’d recommended waiting for a break in the weather. It was likely they just didn’t wish to drop him where he’d described, rather hoping Javi would opt for someplace warmer, most likely smokier, so that he could call it a day too.

Javi doesn't do that now—smoking, that is.

Hasn’t done since he left that apartment that never felt like his, in a city that he’d spent years in that never felt like home. Threw them in the trashcan before his Pop had picked him up, craved and wanted all the way through dinner. He’d done it once, he’d do it again.

When the cab screeches to a halt, he pays, steps out (bag in hand) and spots the phone booth all in one fluid motion. It’s barely lit, front weathered by time and neglect. Smirk curling into his cheek as he remembers you telling him about it—that on cloudless days you can see it, likes to make stories about it as you enjoy a meal-for-one or crunches down cereal.

It hadn’t been a thing he’d thought much about.

Then, it was all he had thought about.

Standing there, making a story that could become real. A gesture, kind and deserving of someone who had put up with his shit since they were children. You’d always liked those big moments in the movies—his eyes glancing over at you, finding yours big, wide and shimmering with tears that wish to glide down your cheek.

Although, that had been well over a decade ago—the two of you had remained in touch, close, or as much as he could allow. Your visit to Colombia had still felt like the sunniest day, a bright spot in a sea of dark; a day that coloured his world in shades he hadn’t known existed, that dulled the moment he’d had to bid farewell at the airport.

It hadn’t been safe for you to do another, pleading in fact to not risk it. A thing, he suspects, is not a thing he’s been easily forgiven for.

He supposes it’s why he hasn’t told you he was coming. The flight had been booked, bag packed—fingers tapping, soul hoping you wouldn’t turn him away once he’d gotten here. To the phone box over the bridge from your place—the one obscured from view by the downpour that seemed never-ending.

Because, as soon as two weeks had racked up at him being home, he found himself itching to move, to be somewhere other than surrounded by fields and the watchful stare of his Pop. Parental worry a hard thing to hide from in a home washed in memories.

Sliding open the door, cramming himself into the booth, Javi had no concern about remembering your number. It was burned into him, etched into him with a blunt tool—almost studied, committed to memory while he ticked over godfathers and the weight of right and wrong.

He remembers when you’d changed it, when your voice informed him of the move, the chance—all excited tone, a pitch closer to a squeak than your voice: no more roommates, just me, myself and I.

He also remembers the ember inside of him pleased that Tom joined the underserving list, slid under Mia and Rich as you informed him you were single again.

Sliding quarters in, finger punching the numbers—he hopes you’re home. A niggling feeling threatens to unwind inside of him as the tone drills into his skull—attempts to drown out the rain rapping against the glass booth he’s standing in.

“Hello?”

“Flor?”

It kisses his ear, your snort. Light. Sweet. “Javier Piña, what do you want?”

You sound like you did in Colombia. Having half-expected the crackle meeting his ear to be down to the distance, rather than your shoddy home phone.

Pressing the receiver to his head, a smile there—desperate to flow out across his lips and exhausted face, he moves it back. “Tal vez te extrañé.”

“Mierda. I don’t believe you.”

Even amidst the noise of passing cars and the relentless drumming of raindrops, he catches the melody of your laughter—a symphony of joy that unravels a part of his soul. It releases it, unlocks it, beckons it to be free—metaphorically makes him release his shoulders, and take a breath. The part of him hidden away, floods back through him—no longer fearful of being taken, clawed or wormed from him as he handed other parts of himself to the job, the task, the goal.

Not you, though. Javi would never surrender you.

A pocket of sunshine he’d kept close to him like your chicken-scratch letters and your tipsy phone calls when he’d caught you coming in after a night with friends.

“Where are you, Piña?”

Wiping his mouth with his thumb, he pauses. Traces his index along the hair growing above his lip, glancing out through the rain-smeared glass, the one cracked in places. Not sure if any of the lights on the other side are hers, but lingering on each just in case.

“In a phone booth on a bridge…”

He hears you swallow, loud, almost difficult.

“…right across from your place.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Smirking, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. “Are you lying to me?”

Smirking, he stares out again. “No.”

Because he couldn’t, not if he tried. Not just because you see through it, but because it wounds him to do so. Picks at him, and makes him bleed in ways that don’t ruin him in scarlet.

“Give me five minutes.”

The call ends before he can get in a bye.

The receiver placed back, bag straps cutting into his palms again as he exits, the heavens lashing against him as he slowly walks. Taking his time. Nervousness bubbling like a broth inside of him with each step, coming up to the top curve of the bridge, trying to look up, spot you—

Then he does.

Running, coat billowing behind—flapping in the wind as it breaks out over your face: that smile. The one that lit fires inside of him, the one first doing so at the time his bedroom at home had its last lick of paint, it now peeling, cracked.

Dropping his bag, Javi isn’t sure whether to brace or not—taking three more steps forward before you collide with him. Arms around him, chest to chest, your wet cheek sliding past his as your soaked clothes marry to his.

It would be odd to say it felt like home hugging you, but it does. It feels right, safe—a piece completing him as he digs his chin into your head.

“You smell the same,” you muffle into his chest.

Javi smiles, knowing the bottle on his dresser is the one from his younger years. Sun-ruined and likely faded, yet managing to linger on his skin enough to cause recollection.

Pushing past lilies, excusing himself through swarms of bodies adorned in black fabric, Javi found you sitting cross-legged between two tall stands of flowers.

Your eyes were puffy—red, swollen—and your dress was as black as his suit; your fingers were balled around a single lily and a scrunched-up tissue, the skirt of your dress skated over your bent knees.

“What d-do you want, Piña?”

But it didn’t land with the tone he had come to know.

Instead, he extended a hand you thankfully took, pulling you up from the ground before he opened his arms—letting you move in, slot yourself between them as they enveloped you close.

Letting his best friend fall apart at the back of the church, your sobs vibrated against his bones and his chin rested on your head as he whispered he had you, over and over again.

A thing you repaid when his mother passed a few years later.

Talking had always been a skill—unless he had to discuss feelings.

It wasn’t that it was easy to lie, or that he found the idea of feeling difficult—if anything, it was as though he felt too much. Guilt. Affection. Righteousness. Protection. Each one a little harder to carry, to wear.

More so around you. The walls had to be tighter, or they’d crumble into ruin, the dust spilling all his secrets before he’d confess whatever wasn’t already written over his face. But, you don’t needle him—instead, you make him a plate from leftovers, tell him about some gossip your mom had informed you of, until you offer him your shower, your sofa and bid him goodnight.

“You’ll be here in the morning?”

“Not going anywhere.”

Lingering in the doorway to your bedroom, fingers playing the piano on the wood. “You’ve said that before.”

He knows he has.

It rises up in him like a storm, whipping around his organs, making his chest tighten as he lies down in comfort but stares up at the unfamiliar. He can hear the rain, how it pitters and patters—how it likely streams down the windows behind your curtains.

He should find it odd that he'd rather fall asleep here, than in his bed back where he grew up. A strange solace in the unknown here, a quiet surrender to the whispers he usually has to hear when the night comes.

But, they're not here.

At some stage, he must sleep, before he wakes to the scent of coffee and soft sunshine. His ears catch the sound of you calling in sick—a cough, a put-on voice, one all removed when you throw a throw cushion at him and ask him what he wants for breakfast.

That’s how he finds his knee kissing yours under the small table as your spoon scoops cereal before letting it drop back into the bowl. Just like when you were kids. Just like when you were all excitable, too in a rush to sit for a moment, stomach likely fluttering with agitation.

“You keep staring.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Flor.”

The thing is, you’re not wrong.

Each time he has a second, he lingers—gazes. Metaphorically pinching himself as he forgoes digging a nail into his skin under the cuff of his shirt, just to make sure he isn’t dreaming. A thing he finds he’s doing now, after a night of laughing until you couldn’t keep your eyes open and a full day of exploring, you walk a little ahead before spinning on your heel to smile at him.

“I have to show you my favourite place—before you go.”

He hates that there’s an end date on this. Bought himself a few days of normal, before returning to something that feels anything but.

Scratching his jaw, brows raised and eyes wide. “You’ve replaced our spot?”

Rolling your eyes, you take his hand—fingers slotting, palm pressing against his. For a moment, a reflex, he thinks of pulling away. Thinking of what else sat as perfectly in his palm as you—a thing that took, but never gave. A thing that he held more than he had ever held a woman.

“My favourite place here.”

He expects a lot of things, maybe flowers, maybe a bar, but he finds himself inside a bookshop. One with floor-to-ceiling shelves, dark wood, the large window letting in light that barely reaches the back. He supposes it’s good they have a chandelier, one that sparkles, shines—like it’s as well maintained as the shelves.

“Books?”

“Books.”

Your finger prodding into him, facing him, body fully twisted. That smile there, the one which slides into one of your cheeks and makes his eyes flick from it to your eyes and then back.

It’s there when you turn on your heel down an aisle, it remaining when he follows—when he hovers close, so easily able to pin you, cage you in between his palms.

“Which do you recommend?”

Shooting him a look, you trail your finger over spines, over the shelf they sit on. “Didn't know you could read?”

“Funny.”

Grinning, you pull on one, handing it to him. His eyes take it in, the cover, the name, the author.

“I think you’ll like the characters,” you explain, eyes lighting up as you lean. “They're flawed but resilient.”

Chewing his cheek, he swallows. Listening, hearing you read the blurb after you lift the book in his hands so you can read it, word for word as he focuses on you. Noticing the way your eyes shine when talking about something you love, the way one of your hands begins to move as you describe the plot, and the characters. Realising, that he could listen to you talk about anything all day.

“You should read it,” you suggest, as he flips through the pages. Having never been much of a reader, time being a factor, his job has been the reason.

“Alright,” he nods, tucking the book under his arm. “I'll read it.”

Your smile brightens even more if that's possible.

“Chucho is gonna be so shocked when I tell him you bought a book.”

Frowning, he follows you, leading him down another aisle. “You talk to my pop?”

Shrugging, like it’s nothing. Like the words that are about to tumble out of your mouth don’t matter like they won’t stitch themselves to him and make him feel like pulling you to his chest.

“I check in—make sure he’s okay. Done it weekly since you left the first time.”

His face falls, descends slowly. He feels it—watches you take it in as yours slowly mirrors him. And, even if he’s been thinking it, it bubbling at the back of his throat, he finds himself unable to stuff it back down—to shove it between other regrets and unsaid words.

“I’ve really missed you.”

Each word lands, your eyes widening as your nose does a little twitch as they do, before you whisper, resting against the edge of a bookcase, “I’ve missed you too.”

Sat on the rock, the sound of a car door slamming disturbed the peace. Not needing to look, knowing that gait, that little kick of the ground as you stopped in front of him.

Hand shielding your eyes from the sun, flower tucked behind your ear.

“Hello, Flor.”

“Piña. Heard you were cursing Laredo.”

Smirking, you sat next to him, nudging him over. The two perched on a rock overlooking part of the city—as his head turned but his eyes stared at you from the corner of them.

“I give it a month and someone else will do something bad enough that people cross the street.”

Swallowing, he exhaled. “Thanks.”

“Did you love her?”

Turning his head, staring at you—eyes flicking from yours to a place on your face he shouldn’t look. “Not enough to marry her.”

“Then you did the right thing.”

A thing he only believed when your hand slid over his, hooking your little finger over his.

“It’s because you’re in love with me, isn’t it?”

Snorting, head shaking, your words washed back over him and he broke into a laugh. “Shut up, Flor.”

Nudging him, taking the flower from your hair and handing it to him. “It’s okay if you do, I know I’m a catch.”

He's embarrassed that it isn't until the second day that Javi finds the chance to really admire your place.

How it’s exactly what he imagined. So very you, all cosy, muted, with spots of colour. Plants and throw cushions, blankets and wicker baskets stuffed with things he suspects you have no recollection of.

What catches his eyes are the photographs, the memories frozen in time around your walls and on shelves. His eyes sweep over them, in a trance still from the scent of your perfume mixing with vanilla from a lit candle.

Each time he sweeps his sight over, he spots new things, remembering brief conversations, smirking to himself until his eyes land on a frame that makes his mouth part and his heart clench.

Him and you; you and him. Sunglasses far too big for your face, staring up at him as he beams at the camera. The backdrop of his ranch, his home, the one he so often left behind like it hadn’t mattered.

Done it weekly since you left the first time.

The words roll around his head now. All metal and round, bouncing against other thoughts, trying to dig his heels into the present and not wonder about what kind of calls you make—whether they’d be about him, whether you’d confess things you’d never admit to him.

Your clanging around is what pulls him to the present. The bangs of cupboards and pans clattering as he stares at it—as he notices how different his build is, how many years have passed. The occasional cursing from you is a rather nice anchor that keeps him in the present.

“Flor?” He waits until he hears you hum. “Order in again, I’ll pay.”

It’s here within the hour.

A favourite, you had told him. A quick apology that you’ll be messier than last night, that you’re dying of hunger. He reminds you he doesn’t care. Not as you slide the triangle slice out, the tip kissing your chin before it’s absorbed by your mouth, sauce lingering on your lips—dust from the crust resting on your nose.

He’s not sure what’s better, the taste of the pizza or the sight of watching you. Having the chance to watch you.

“So I have to ask.”

Grumbling, he pulls at the topping on his slice. “Here we fucking go.”

“Did you like the tie I sent you?”

Half-scowling, swallowing the mouthful of pizza—recalling the box on his desk, atop files and paperwork with a note attached: One down, three to go. Written in that same handwriting he could spot in a lineup—the one he had wished there and then would be etched into him, a mark left, a thing he could brush his thumb over when his heart ached and he felt lost.

“I was disappointed not to see you photographed in it.”

“You knew damn well I wasn’t going to wear a fucking pineapple tie to a press conference.”

Pouting, you smirk. Picking at another slice, staring up at him from the floor, all cross-legged. “Thought you might have for me.”

It’s there, ebbing—words that feel far more intimate than they should—crystallising, burning upon his tongue.

I’d do anything for you.

It’s there, unwritten, pulsating and breathing in the space between you and him, existing, never diminished. Memories where it’s been all but similar rising like lava, singeing him, threatening to burn away the walls he throws up for the sake of friendship.

Because he knows what people think. Saw it hung in his pop’s eyes at his Tia’s wedding when you came as a guest, an uninvited plus one that was welcomed like you were already part of the family. Heard it, in the wind between the grass before he’d left the first time, a farewell outdoor thing, your parents crestfallen, as though they’d assumed—like he imagined a lot of them—the two of you would have figured it out by now.

Watching you stand, hand outstretched for his plate, you take it with a smile. A shout of two options for drinks, an unsurprising one chosen by him—it bubbling in the glass when you hand it to him, settling in beside him.

“Not sure I told you, but you have a nice couch.”

“Most expensive thing in this place—probably better than my own bed,” you smirk, sipping your drink. Head rolling towards him, brows raised, eyes that bit wider. “So, are you okay?”

You’re the only one who could ask and get a reply, he supposes. Those same words were said to him a handful of times, down the phone from Murphy, over the table from Pop, even on aisles of the supermarket when he’d been staring between brands he hadn’t heard of.

“I gave you a day to tell me, and since you won’t, I’m gonna ask. Are you okay, Javier Peña?” you continue, body shifting, thigh pressing against his—heat radiating from between yours to his. “Because you’re methodical. You’re not… get on a plane and fly to a different city just because.”

“You not happy I’m here?”

Grinning, all teeth—it reaching and hanging in your eyes. “Los más felices. But, are you?”

Yes. It’s all he thinks.

Chewing his tongue, his eyes drop to his soda because he’s unsure how to say that. Not as he watches the bubbles float up and burst—the song that had been playing coming to a stop, allowing the rain to play an interval against your windows.

It doesn’t make sense, in some ways: how he’s kept you—been able to keep you close. Somehow not ruined you, twisted this thing between the two of you, made it rot, sullied it with disappointment and selfishness.

“I am now,” he replies.

Good, you breathe. Letting it sit, simmer. Paper over any cracks as your eyes sparkle and remain fixed on him, tracing him as though not completely sure he’s real.

That is, until you grab the remote, excitedly telling him about the night of television they have ahead of them. A blanket, at some stage, finds itself over him, you nestling into his side—like when they were teens before the world became a problem and narcos were all he hunted.

For a while, you catch him up, explain plots and characters. Then, you fall silent, brows crinkled in concentration. His eyes slide to the side to watch, to spot the little things you do as she settles in closer, brings your legs up, and rests almost all of yourself against him.

Between one show and another, he feels the rhythm of your breathing change, your body relaxing further against him. He glances down and finds your eyes closed, features soft and serene in sleep. Realisation dawns on him—you’ve fallen asleep. His heart does a slow tumble in his chest, a wave of warmth spreading through him. All of a sudden aware of the gentle weight of you against his side, the way your hand is loosely holding onto him. He watches, just for a moment, taking in the sight of you, so peaceful and trusting in your sleep. This moment is so intimate, so precious, he wants to freeze it in time.

What else is a guy like you gonna do…

This, he thinks. Looking at you, asleep, peaceful—curled into his side, fingers around his forearm.

Smiling, he takes the remote from your fingers, turning the volume down as he gets more comfortable—pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.

He carried a single red rose down the side of your house—nudging open the window the rest of the way, climbing in like he had done years ago.

He didn’t need eyes, didn’t fancy having to explain to his parents how he could do that to that nice girl and her family. Javi had faced enough judgement, enough stares.

The only eyes he wanted were staring at him, remaining so as he stepped close and handed you the flower with the thorns picked free. “Come with me.”

Sighing, eyes averting, you swallowed loudly in the thick quietness. “You don’t want that. Your best friend following you.”

Eyes flicking up to meet his, you took another deep breath. Fingers flexed at your side, weight shifting from one foot to the other before you exhaled—louder than before.

“I don’t want to follow you, best friend.”

Then don’t be just that, he thought, thumb swiping over the tips of his fingers as he hovered, waited. Then he took a step closer, and another. The gap closed, becoming shorter and shorter—

“What are you doing, Piña?”

“Kissing you.”

Lips pursing, trying not to smirk, you took the rose and put it on your dresser. “Don’t feel your lips on mine, Javier.”

And then he kissed you, his fingers clutching at your jaw—body pressed against yours, tasting your whine, your moan.

He felt your fingers clutch at his shirt as he told you to be quiet.

Laid you on your bed of flowers, knees digging into stitched roses and sunflowers, as you arched off the bed when his fingers slid between your thighs—like he wished he’d done a handful of times before now.

He’s not sure of the time when he wakes, but it’s dark.

A contentedness in his bones that doesn’t fade as he begins to blink, as he takes in his surroundings and remembers where he is. Feeling you, warm, pressed as close against him as humanly possible. Able to see the outline of you, before his eyes manage to paint the rest, how his knee has slotted between your legs—bodies a mess of limbs that takes him back to years ago.

Javi notices how the television is switched off as you try to move, to wiggle and escape. His shirt discarded, the cool air misting over him, pebbling his skin as he slides his arm around you, pinning you tighter to him.

Brain all addled with dreams and sleep, as his awakening state tries to remind him what he’s doing.

What door he’s trying to open all over again.

“Javi…”

Not Piña, Peña or Javier. Javi, all soft and whispery, like honey dripping into his ear as he turns his head to find your stare in the dark. Somehow finding it shimmering, fixed, more than awake.

Then you whisper his name again, and it’s heavenly, a piece of it anyway. A sound he realises he’s missed more than he cares to find words to describe as he hears you push out a breath—fingers finding his arm, stroking, sliding their warmth up and down the muscle of his arm as he swallows.

It’s slow, hand cupping your cheek as he shifts his body, and finds yours moves with him. The beginning of a partner dance, one it feels you’ve both practised in small spaces but never actually have as he slides his lips over yours. Moulds them to yours. Tasting faint mint on your tongue when you deepen it—when you pay attention, listen, taking each cue you give him from the movement of your mouth to the way your hands grasp at him to come closer.

A whimper tries to break through, to escape through messy kisses and tangled bodies, but it vibrates through him. Makes him shudder with how much he wants you, moving your knee, hooking it over his hip as he slots his waist between your thighs and you gasp at the feel of him flush against you.

Practically whine.

Nose brushing your cheek, palm flat, fingers spreading out over your hip as he feels you roll your body into him, he smiles—breathy, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “Forgot how soft you are.”

You hum, head-turning, mouth latching itself back to his.

“Forgot how good of a kisser you are.”

Snorting, he lightly bites your lower lip. “Best remind you then.”

“Best do,” you whisper, pulling him by his hair back to your mouth.

You write a poem against his lips, signing it with your tongue against his as his fingers snake under the band of your sleep shorts, tasting your moan, your hiss and whimper when he touches you like he’s wanted to since he landed back in the States.

When two fingers slide slowly inside of you, curling, the sound of his name is like a fucking sin he wants to be draped in, wrapped in, even dressed in. Him seeking, searching, finding that spot that has your legs opening for him, nails scraping against his scalp.

“More, Javi. Please—”

“You’re so tight, Flor,” he croons, burying the words in your neck, the tip of his tongue swiping over your collarbone as you grab a handful of his hair. “Feel so good around my fingers.”

Your hips writhe, roll them against his hand, gasping. Making a mess, dripping, practically gushing over his hand, as he fights pulling his hand free and getting a taste.

“Be better—dios mio—around your cock—”

Smirking, teeth nipping at your neck, “I remember.”

Head lifting, thankful the night sky is clear, that the moon is draping you in a slither of milky light so he’s able to see your eyes flutter shut. Able to witness what his fingers do to you, the effects of their teasing and the languid movements as he finds that angle, the one which makes you grind against his palm, and has your chest heaving.

He moans your name against your tongue, drinking down a blend of pleases falling from your swollen lips as he plunges deeper, walls squeezing him.

There he thinks, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder, as you dig your nails further into his scalp, tensing, bearing down on him to the point he hopes you’ll leave a mark, leave a cut, a signature of this moment he can run his fingers over.

“Kiss me,” you gasp, all wrapped in desperation as you pull at his shoulder.

His mouth only just pressing to yours when your cry buries against his tongue, when you flutter and arch as he continues to work you through it. His name breaks through messy kisses, it escaping effortlessly like it doesn’t wish to be buried anymore.

You don’t let him pull away, hooking one leg around him. Watching, not able to take your eyes from him as he retracts his hand—as he licks your pleasure from his fingers and you stare with a twinkle in your eye.

“You best fuck me now.”

Smirking, a low laugh escaping. “Yeah? Want me that bad, Flor?”

Lifting onto your elbows, he waits for a taunt, a tease—something that’ll bring him down a peg or two. What he finds, instead, is your fingers slowly crawling up his bare chest, around his neck, your chin tilted up.

“I need you, Javi. Need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?”

“And then I wanna get on top,” you whisper, dragging each syllable out, “and fuck you until the sun comes up.”

“Murphy is a nice guy.”

Eyes narrowing, he shot you a glare—watching as you shimmied your jacket from your shoulders. Bare arms, bare legs—except for the thin tank and shorts adorning your body—that had him thinking un-best friend things.

“You jealous, Piña?”

“Of a married guy? Fuck no.”

Grinning, you moved closer—boxing him in. Staring into his eyes, in a way that made him feel like he was being seen, read, and admired all at once. “Is that because you left a bite mark on my hip?”

Tracing his fingers along your neck, he felt himself smile. That flutter in his chest again, the one which had appeared one day when the two of you were teens and hadn’t gone away since.

“Ask me to stay,” you whispered, hands on either side of him—all boxed in. “Ask me, Javi.”

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he raised a hand, knuckles brushing over your cheek. Wanting nothing more. A week gone too quickly. Already feeling the pressure slip back over his muscles, seeping into his bones. But he knew. He pictured it, the things he had nightmares over—even when you were far away, never mind when you were asleep in the room next to his.

“Too dangerous.”

“That it? I can learn—”

“No.”

“No?”

He stared. Thought of the things he had done. The people he had already let down. The things he had let happen to people who deserved far better. It layering, and layering, and layering and—

Nodding, disappointment spread, before it was washed over in acceptance. “What’re we eating?”

When he wakes, he expects to find you dressed in corporate and apologising in a voice that’s accompanied by a pout at the foot of your bed. The place the two of you found yourself on at 4 am.

Instead, you fake another performance. Earn an Oscar over the phone before switching to the excitable one you present to him when you sit at the foot of the bed.

There’s something there. It hangs in your eyes. A secret, a thing shifted and dislodged now your mask has slipped from the few hours of sleep and the ruining of your sheets.

But he doesn’t ask, because if he does, he fears he’d tell you things in return. Alter the way you see him. Change it, taint it. Practically ruin the man you think he went to be and the one he's returned as.

It'll hurt him if you look at him with disgust. You’ve burnt him after all, left him winded, air knocked from his lungs each time he’s laughed. All but imprinted into his mind, a thing never filed but rather pinned up and forever there, like artwork on a fridge.

“Wanna get a coffee?”

Hands pulling on a pair of jeans, buttoning them as he sees the peaks of your nipples through your white tee. And he knows your face is bare and you're dressed in clothes you just pulled out without thought—yet, you are, as always, the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

A thing he thinks when he showers.

When he smiles as he scrubs the shampoo into his hair, feels the soreness at parts from where your nails had dug in. He doesn't stop beaming when he smears his palm across the glass, takes in his appearance as you open the door, a towel hung low on his hips, eyes dropping down.

“Now who's staring, hermosa.”

“Don’t be a work of art to be admired then.”

He dresses in record time, your hand swinging beside his, so within reach, so easy to grab. But he doesn’t.

None of last night mentioned, even if he knows he’s left bruises on your inner thighs from keeping them apart; even if you've left scratch marks on his shoulders from when you sunk down on him, head thrown back, jaw elongated as he rolled your nipples between his fingers.

Javi doesn't even mention it when he hears you gasp at the taste of your coffee, a noise similar to when he'd licked a stripe up your pussy, when he tasted both you and him.

It was just like in Colombia.

A thing buried, hidden underneath other topics the two of you don’t discuss. Dead parents and a town you both ran from. A thing he almost wants to change, correct, but then you stop outside a flower shop.

The sign battered, peeling. Hidden between two nicer shops, yet the scent made his nose twitch.

“You should buy me flowers.”

“Should I?”

Smirking, teeth biting your lip. “Por lo de anoche.”

Head shaking, he finds himself following anyway. Unable to stop his eyes from falling to the back pocket you shove your phone in, hand reaching, palm pressing to the globe of your ass as he hears the muffled sound of a giggle—

“Piña.”

“Flor,” he whispers, practically breathes it against your neck.

The bubble expands, knowing at some point it’ll pop. Too happy, he thinks. Too settled for a man who has a solo flight back. It’s why he drops his hand, lets you move further in, watching as you scan over already-made bouquets for one he knows you won’t find.

Because they don’t know you. Not like him. There’s not years between you and this shop—this place.

His fingers lightly roll over a stem, staring at the flower, before he has pulled it free from the bucket, and then another, and then another. Not at all a florist—or someone artistic enough to make a bunch—but a person who at least knows you. Knows that in each of the pre-made bundles there’s a flower you dislike, one that’ll remind you of something, someone.

“Here.”

You blink, eyes widening as they move from the bunch in his hand to his face. “Javi…”

“There your—”

“Favourites,” you finish, eye narrowing, lips still parted. “You remembered all my favourites?”

Shrugging, aware of how close he is to real—to something that could shatter, break. A thing he’ll do, just give it time. Feeling it wrap its tendrils around his chest, around his heart, squeezing and squeezing until your hand slips in his. Palm to palm, fingers finding their way between his slowly, cautiously, your eyes not leaving his face as you do.

“Didn’t know my pussy was good enough for flowers, Piña,” you comment, voice low, a smirk there.

“You deserve more than flowers.”

“I’m that good?”

Shaking his head, hand still in yours, he presses a kiss to your forehead, swallowing. “Siempre has sido.”

“Hello?”

He heard the hiccup, the slur of his name as he smirked against the phone—finger and thumb massaging his forehead as he heard you hiccup again. “Flor?”

“Piña, did you know that I miss you?”

Adjusting the tie around his neck, staring down at the pineapples—the box open, atop a bunch of files, in the office he should have been thankful for. “You sound like you’ve had a good night.”

You howled, the laugh all high-pitched. “Maybe I have—maybe I haven’t. What I do know is that I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“No. I love you.”

Smirking, thumb tracing an outline of one of the pineapples. “You’re drunk.”

“Still love you.”

Swallowing, he let out a heavy exhale.

“You doing okay, mi Piña?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer, how to respond. Head tilting back in his office chair, the ice melted in his whiskey and the hour so late he wondered why you were still up as you extended his nickname out into as many syllables as you could.

“I am now—okay, I mean.”

It needs to be left alone.

He knows it. Reminds himself of it when it rears its head at every second he doesn't. Because, it doesn't need to be needled, or picked at until it bled.

But, Javi picks at it all the same when you avoid his question again.

His hand slides over his face, index finger tracing a line down his nose as he waits until your laugh fades. Your fork twists the spaghetti round and round, and when it falls, it simply lands on the table between the two of you—the air tinged with the scent of dinner and the flowers from the shop.

“When were you going to tell me you hate your job?”

Your smile shrinks, like the sunlight being muted by the night. Spine straightening, chin lifting. The walls coming down both literally and figuratively, seeing you prepare for war when he’s army-less and unafraid.

“Si significo algo para ti, no lo hagas.”

He snorts, resting on his arm, letting the sheets fall to his waist. Because of course, he cares, and of course, he wants to do this. Balling up the hand beside his hip, seeing the murkiness in your eyes, the joy snuffed out and hidden, as though the hatchets were coming down to protect against his storm.

Javi says your name, softly, honeyed—delicately drip-feeding the air each letter until it’s out there existing.

One by one, it happens. Your eyes avert, chin dipping down; your tongue drags across the front of your teeth and then your arms fold. “I hate my job. Happy? I wanted it so bad—and now I have it, I hate it. I hate going in, I hate doing it. I can’t tell anyone that because it’s all I wanted.”

“It’s okay.”

Snorting, fake smile sketching across your face as your eyes harden to the point they’re brittle. “It isn’t. I left. I turned my back and got as far out of there as I could, and now I’m stuck.”

It breaks him a little.

Seeing it then, the many shards inside of you that you’re trying to keep whole. The pieces that are so worn and tired from doing their best to fit, but struggling to do so.

It’s why he protests that you’re not. He tries to rationalise and says the same words he knows you’d say to him if he called—if he had told you the truth about everything when he was over there. He tries to add kindness to his words as you continue to stare at him like you wish your bed would swallow him whole.

“—You’re saying this like I didn’t say the same thing to you, and you went and did another five years.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” you spit, standing now, finger pointing and nose flared. “Because your job means more?—”

“No, because I’m a fucking idiot, Flor. You’re not.”

You mutter under your breath, curse him—a blend of poisonous Spanglish that has the heel of his palm pressing against his forehead.

Because it’s like last time.

The words surge up inside of him—except you’re both older now, both carrying more pain and hurt from a world that continues to pile on when bones are already struggling. Walls threw up, keeping him out in all the same ways—except now his mess is also between your thighs, and you aren’t half as good at hiding how his words hurt you.

“Come home with me.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

Folding your arms, your head shaking. “I can stick it out—work my way up, it’ll get better—”

“You know it won’t. Know how well that went for me.”

Then you scoff. It blended with razors and sharpened to injure. “No, I don’t. Because you don’t talk about what happened.”

“You read about it.”

“But that’s not your story, Javi. That’s theirs.”

For a moment, he sees it. How hollow you look, how weak, sad and broken. So he repeats it, the request, the offer. Come home with me. But the door shuts, locks, a bolt thrown over.

And everything, all of it, splinters; it doing so before your mouth even opens and he sees what his request has done.

“I’m not coming home just because you’ve decided you want to play happy fucking families, Peña. The world doesn’t stop turning just because you’ve decided to run away, and it doesn’t begin turning again because you’ve come home and decided what you want.”

“That isn’t—”

“You left. You left me.”

“—Flor—”

“—and I asked you to let me stay—when I knew you were hurting. I asked and you said no—”

He whispers your name, broken—like it shatters the moment it greets the air.

“—I wasn’t good enough then. So why am I now?”

Shaking his head, legs flung from under your sheets, he stands—aware he’s half-naked, aware this isn’t the time as you step back.

You shake your head, tears dangling, resistant to fall. “I bet you’re not even staying.”

“I am—”

Head tilting, a crystal tear falling down your cheek, you scoff. Loud. Brutal. “Have you even unpacked? Or did you just get on a plane here?”

Swallowing, Javi rolls his jaw. Fingers flexing at his side, staring, urging himself to find words as his tongue thickens in his mouth. Because he’s staying, he’s staying, he’s staying—

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Flor—”

“Save it.”

The door of your bedroom slamming behind you is the final sound that echoes out between you both.

It was different.

Hearing you cry down the phone—than when the two of you were younger.

When your first love broke your heart and he lay beside you on sheets covered in stitched flowers. Your head turned to him, the bedroom door open, as you teased your lip between your teeth. The tears had dried, but the rest had still been there, written in markers across your face as you sighed, staring, waiting for him to answer. “What do you want, Piña?” you’d asked, and he’d swallowed that he wanted to punch them.

Now, though, there were miles between the two of you. Distance far more than there had ever been—cities, a whole country.

“I’ll be home soon—can visit you.”

He heard you laugh, it hanging, echoing. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it.”

“You mean a lot of things, Javi.”

“Flor—”

“I wish you'd never kissed me.”

It's a whisper, the way he said your name. It cracked, snapping as it left his tongue.

“I should go shower, early morning and all that.”

He asked you to stay and he heard you sigh.

“What do you want, Piña?”

Swallowing, Javi tapped his fist on the desk—tiredness having crept over him, the last ditch at doing right in Colombia suspended over him. Tell me I’m doing good, that it's worth losing you, Flor. “Have a good day, Flor.”

It’s weeks.

Eight weeks and four days to be exact.

At some point, it becomes less of a want to get in touch and more of a need not to. Your number is always there on his fingers, but his digits never dialling it when his Pop nips out to go to the store, and he’s left alone with his thoughts and memories in a house stuffed full of them.

Javi doesn’t expect anything else.

Having woke that next morning to find a note attached to the book he had bought: Had to go to work. Have a safe flight. Speak soon—a thing he both hoped and prayed for, even as he nursed a drink on the short flight and chain-smoked at the airport before he did the drive home.

Home.

A thing it felt even less of when he arrived this final time. Pulling his truck into its place, dust swirled and kicked up around him. Staring at the house that hasn’t changed much, just the paint thinning, the sun-dyeing it.

Each day that ticks by, he thinks of you. Each week that’s collected, he fights with himself when he’s sat alone at the dining table about flying back out and apologising.

Because he knows what he did.

Did the same thing back then—assumed and foolishly acted as though your wants never mattered. But they do matter. A thing he rehearses in his head when he’s feeding the animals; a thing he runs over when he’s repairing a door here or a fence there.

One week adds up, then another, and another.

If his Pop thinks things, he doesn’t share them. Just shakes his head occasionally, not asking what is wrong, likely knowing. Suspecting he wears it like the rest of his shame, brightly coloured and decorated in bright lights.

A fool’s outfit, he thinks. A thing he is, a thing he knows. It carved into him at this point. Scratched into the skin and muscle, yet everyone else sees the word hero.

It’s eight weeks and four days when the door of the party opens, the sun streaming in—illuminating the back of a person in a dress adorned with flowers. It takes a second, the condensation on his beer dripping down his wrist as he stares, trying to place the shape and the style of the hair. Not wanting to imagine, not wanting to jump ahead of himself until he hears your mom say your name, all excitable—practically a shriek.

He’s not prepared.

Yet, it’s out of habit he moves.

Like the two of you are magnets, that realised they were supposed to be a pair. The music doesn’t quiet, and the room doesn’t hold its breath, but Javi does—and he suspects you do too.

Just as time comes to a slow stop—the hand in his watch takes an age to flick to the next second as his heart hammers into his ribs. Staring, fingers itching to reach out and ensure you’re not something he’s fabricated, not a mirage from wanting so badly and convincing himself he’d never have it.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Piña.”

It weighs heavy then—clots on his tongue. Almost shapes itself into bile and rests horridly against his tongue as he follows you around, hand close to reaching out to place on your lower back, but stops when he remembers where he is.

Home.

A thing it all of a sudden feels like when you turn your head, lift your chin and stare at him—eyes full of forgiveness, and understanding. “We should talk, right?”

Right, he thinks. Trying to stop the twist in his chest from tightening, trying to stop the dread from filling him and drowning from within. Conversations never go well. A thing he thinks over, and over as his hand strokes over his face, following, one foot after the other, until the warm sun kisses his skin and he finds himself leaning against the side of the building.

“I didn’t come for you.”

He says nothing, not sure if there are any to say.

“I quit. Moved back a week and a bit ago—” your hand comes up to halt him, half-pleading with a tilt and a raise of your eyes. “—and I needed to find things for me, first.”

Folding his arms, he stretches his legs, lets himself elongate, and tries to fill his lungs with air.

“Because I’d have resented you for being right.” Your chin dips, eyes following. “A thing I would do, because you, Javier Peña, know me. And sometimes I really hate that.”

Exhaling, he finds you do the same. Head tilting, lips rolling as you take him in, trace him with your eyes as though you can't quite believe he's real.

“Did you know that every person I’ve been with, it gets to a point where I think ‘Fuck, Javi wouldn’t do this to me’?” Meeting his gaze, you exhale. “And then, no matter how much I felt for them, it goes.”

“Flor…”

Swallowing, you offer the smallest smile. “It’s never gone for you, though. Not when you left. Not when you came back, and left again. Not eight weeks ago when I should have asked you to stay.”

Tongue sticking, flat against the roof his mouth, he grabs your hand—holds it. Runs his thumb over the knuckles as you avert your eyes.

“I live in Laredo now, further north. Did you know I’m so good at what I do, people seek me out?” you say, beaming, letting him pull you closer. “Think they’d have cloned me you if I’d asked for it.”

Dragging his knuckles down your cheek, he’s unable to stop the way it flares up in him—that joy, that ember of happiness—when you smile.

“Because I don’t think I find the idea of being yours that terrible—”

“That so?”

Shaking your head, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt, he watches your smile falter—just for a moment. “Don’t do this, if you’re going to up and leave again, Javi. Because I’d have died happily not telling you what I feel for you.”

“Not doing it again to you.”

“Okay. Then,” you sigh, sliding your arms around his neck, his hands finding a home on your waist. “Well, I guess I should tell you that I really like your moustache.”

“Just really like?” he teases, swaying you as you purse your lips together.

“Fine. I love it.”

Smiling, walking you back until your back meets the wooden railings. “I love that you love it.”

Rolling your eyes, forehead meeting his chest, he feels the laugh roll through you. Rumbling.

“You owe me flowers.”

Snorting, he rests his chin on your head. “I’ll buy you a field, Flor.”

“That’s a good start.”

Thought so, he thinks. Wrapping his arms around you, keeping your head against him, rocking you, like he's wished to do so many times before now.

Home now feeling right.

[abbysbug]

— Two Little Lovebirds

ellie being a cutie little loser

Pairing; Streamer!Ellie x Streamer!Reader

a/n: this is how i imagined my streamer!ellie to ask my streamer!reader out

@stegosauruswilly sooo are you and y/n dating or what?

@ladydcansteponme yeah come on ellie. we've seen what you've been posting

@minecraftergod LMAO they're definitely dating look how red her face is going

Ellie's eyes scanned over the chat, reading every message. She and you weren't dating, not yet, at least. She wanted to ask you out but couldn't find the courage.

"Uhm." She mumbled, trying to keep up with her energetic mood. She had been playing Roblox horror games for the past hour, and everything had been okay until people started to mention you.

Don't get her wrong, she adored talking about you. But having to talk about her relationship with you made her feel embarrassed. She had been talking to you for two weeks and she hadn't asked you out. That is so not lesbian of her.

@m0mmym11kers oh shit. maybe theyre not dating.

"Okay, guys. I think I'm gonna wrap it short today. Have fun at, Y/n's stream!" Ellie clicked on the button to raid your stream, sending all her viewers to your channel.

She slumped down in her chair and ran her hand on her face. God, she needed to ask you out.

A large grin spread across your face when you saw that Ellie raided you.

"Thanks for the raid, Els. Oh, wait. Is she not here?" You frowned, not seeing Ellie's familiar username pop up in chat.

@minecraftergod uh yeah ellie ended stream really randomly and i guess she didn't join

@rubberducksex she seemed kinda upset ngl maybe check on her

You opened your messages with Ellie.

You: hey, are you ok? people said you looked upset and ended stream randomly.

Ellie: when are you free?

You: like in an hour

Ellie: can i come over in an hour then?

You: yeah ofc. u ok tho?

Ellie didn't reply to you. You bit your lip in concern.

You ended the stream 30 minutes later. You were concerned about Ellie and couldn't keep your mind off of her. There was a knock on your door and you looked over to check the time. Shit, has it been an hour already?

You opened the door and smiled at the sight of Ellie. You threw your arms around her. You pulled Ellie inside, closing the door behind her.

"You okay, Ellie?" You asked, "You're quiet."

Ellie shrugged, playing with her fingers.

You frowned, taking her face in your hands. You ran your thumb over her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I wanna be your girlfriend," Ellie blurted out, immediately regretting her words. That was not how she wanted to ask.

When you didn't reply immediately, you felt Ellie started to pull away from you. But you wrapped your arms around her neck and pressed your lips against hers. Your actions shocked Ellie, but she quickly reciprocated. Her arms wrapped around your waist.

The kiss was messy but full of love. You pulled away when you started to run out of breath, and rested your forehead against hers.

"So, is that a yes?" Ellie asked.

You giggled, nodding your head. "Of course it is."

Ellie gave you a shy smile.

"Wanna tell me why you were upset now?" You questioned, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Ellie sighed, attempting to look away from you, but you tilted her head to look at you. "I just- Everyone kept asking me if we were dating and I wanted to ask you out so bad so I just felt like a loser for not having the courage."

You frowned. "Ellie, you aren't a loser for not having the courage. I didn't have the courage either, does that make me a loser?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly. You aren't a loser."

Ellie sighed. She knew you were right. You kissed the tip of her nose and smiled.

"Feel better now?"

She nodded.

"Wait, I gotta flex to Twitter that I'm dating you." Ellie pulled her phone out and swiped to her camera app. Ellie wrapped her arm around your neck and pulled your faces together. At the last second, you turned your face, kissing Ellie on the lips.

A light blush spread across Ellie's face when you pulled away, grabbing her phone to look at the picture.

"Awe, this looks cute. Post it,"

Ellie smiled and typed out a post.

@carpetmuncherwilliams FINALLY GOT THE COURAGE AND ASKED :p WHO WANTS TO COME TO THE WEDDING!!! *1 image attached*

@buffjesse replied gay as hell DOWN WITH THE GAYS

@dinaisbetter replied jesse stfu they are literally so cute why dont u post photos of me huh??

@buffjesse replied *4 images attached*

@dinaisbetter replied r u serious THOSE ARE PICS OF ME SLEEPING WITH MY MOUTH OPEN DELETE THOSE RN

Ellie laughed at Jesse and Dina’s conversation, passing the phone to you.

“If you ever post photos of me like that, I will kick you so hard.”

Ellie held her hands up in defensive.

“I absolutely will not.”

She definitely will at some point.

[kookslastbutton]

Lovin' You Right ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: Your new badass neighbor won't leave you alone. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it.

Pairing: new neighbor!jungkook x fem!reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, e2l, neighbors, oneshot/drabble

Word Count: 2,031

Warnings: cussing, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, missionary, praising, rough s*x, d*rty talk, sp*nking overst*mulation, reader's first-time, sl*t calling once, oc a bit of an uptight b at first, little manhandling, jk rides a motorcylce, jk giving it to oc straight, a very wet date bc MV made me do it

Now Playing: seven by jjk

A/N: no explanation, this is just what i thought of when i listened to jungkook's song 'seven'. Hope you enjoy! 💞

He looked like a real hard ass with all the black leather he wore, arms covered in ink, and chains hanging from his neck. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home.

He was your next-door neighbor and he rode a mean motorcycle. It was loud as fuck and woke you up about ten times during the night. And every time he saw you in the hallway? He'd have this shit-eating grin on, like he wanted to devour you whole.

"Think our mail got switched up again," he said, handing you a pile of letters. "Gonna need to talk to the mail man or somethin'."

"Oh geez," you replied, doing your best to avoid eye contact of more than three seconds–his eyes were just a little too piercing. "Thanks." You shoved the letters under your arm and carried on your way. It was laundry day and you desperately needed to have clean clothes.

"Hey wait," he kept on your trail. "How's your day goin'?" He rushed ahead to open the laundry room door, allowing you to go first.

Look at him trying to be a gentleman, hmph. You held your head high and walked through the door. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it.

.

Like an itch that won't go away, Jungkook followed you as much as he could. No matter how much you scratched, he'd be right there, burning holes in the back of your neck. He'd watch you dump your clothes in the washer, walk you to your car whenever you needed to go anywhere, hell he even helped you carry in groceries when given the chance.

"What do you want Jeon?" You finally popped the question. He didn't look like he was simply "being generous" or "doing his part to make the world better". He was bumming around for something, he had to be.

"Go out with me," he simply quipped, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes, he was too old for beating around the bush and he was fed up with you giving him the silent finger. Not once have you told him to beat it straight to his face so he's gonna shoot his shot. "Yes or no __? You know I like you, why else would I be bugging the crap out of you?"

"'Cause you want to fuck me then leave me for your other neighbor, the one who lives on the other side of your door." You crossed your arms against your chest. "Tell me I'm wrong."

He narrowed his eyes, tiniest of smirks on his overly gorgeous, no good, lying face. " No you're right. I do wanna fuck that pretentious attitude you got. It's been pissing me off for weeks."

He took a step towards you, caging you between himself and your kitchen island. "What gives you the right to be this bitchy huh? You act like you know everything there is to know about me, but you're too damn stubborn to open your eyes and see it's all a complete farce." He leaned his head forward to graze his lips along the edge of your ear. "I don't know what little girl fairytales you've been taught but I'm not the monster you need to watch out for....and prince charmings don't exist, princess."

You shoved your hands against his chest but he grips them tight in his own. "We don't have to go out anymore. I see what you really think of me."

He released your wrist and headed for the door. "It's really a shame," he hollered before leaving. "You're really beautiful."

God you hated him.

.

For the next week, Jungkook was no where in sight. He didn't come see you, he didn't bring you anything, he went completely M.I.A. It was a breath of fresh air but by the second week, you wondered where he was and if he was okay. He did drive a motocylce afterall, maybe he got in an accident and you didn't know.

You stared at his door, hesistant to knock in fear if him actually being in there. He'd likely laugh you off when he saw you, so you purposefully picked a time he'd most likely be out and about anyway. You hated that you kinda knew his schedule.

Jungkook quirked an amused brow at you when he finally cranked his door open. He was wearing light washed jeans and no under shirt, his pecs were on full display. "What can I do for you princess?"

"Nothing," you spat, definitely not looking below his thick neck. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid yet."

"Checking up on me huh?" He put an elbow on the door frame, eyes darkening. "That's sweet."

"Fuck off. You're healthy it seems so I'm gonna go check up on the other neighbors now. I think Mrs. Baker set the fire alrms off the other day so I need to make sure she's oka—"

You're arm was yanked back as soon as you moved to turn around. "Fuck you're bullshit __. You missed me didn't ya?"

"Not much to miss Jeon." You're such a liar, Jungkook muttered to himself. The whole world could see you were having a conversation with his pecs this whole time—too damn timid to look him in the eyes.

"Shut up and say you'll go out with me already. I'm tired of waiting for your ass to come around."

.

You swallowed your pride and there you were, watching Jungkook splash in every single puddle. He just had to propose going out the one day it was storming out.

"Wipe that sour look off your face!" He stomped in the water, drenching you entirely.

You shrieked at the sudden coldness. Big droplets of water soaked your face, clothes, shoes, everything. "You're such a child Jungkook!"

He ignored you and wrapped his muscular arms around you. The white tank he wore was drenched as well. "You're having fun, admit it."

You scoffed. The only reason you agreed to go out was to show him how ridiculous it would be for the two of you to go out. You and Jungkook were likely the most incompatible people for each other. While he was out riding his bike with heavy metal blasting, you were watching the latest law drama in you're pajamas. It was only a matter of time before this expirament of his would show him the true results of your intermingling.

"C'mon," he took you by the hand and dragged you through the rain. "Just be in the moment __. Let the rain shower over you and be free!" He grabbed your other hand and began spinning you both in circles.

"I'm going to get dizzy."

"Then only look at me. Look at me and don't worry about what's around us. Focus on a single subject and you won't get dizzy." He pulled you by the waist, forcing you to stare straight at him.

He was right. The dizziness went away but your knees feel like jelly.

"What's holding you back?" Jungkook smiled and it was the most genuine smile you'd ever seen. "Look at me __. Look at us. What do you see?"

As you stood there in the pouring rain, a pair of deep, boy-like eyes locked with yours. This was him, the thought dawned on you, a soft-hearted guy who wasn't afraid to open himself up.

You felt a pang of guilty settle in your gut–you weren't the better person like you so believed. You're closed off, comfortable in your space. Skeptical of anyone and everyone. You were wrong to see Jungkook as a careless, arrogant, motorcycle thug and it was a hard pill for you to swallow.

"I don't know." You replied softly, shivering at the faintest touch of his fingers supporting on your back. "I'm sorry, I don't know Jungkook."

"Well I see something worth sticking around for, rain or shine. I think I've become an idiot for you and I don't think that bothers you as much as you let on. You sought me out after I gave you space and I've literally been playing in the puddles this whole date and you haven't ditched me yet. So if you want some more of this, I'll give it to you with open hands, open heart, and I'll make sure to be loving you right." He winked before finishing. "As many days as you'd like."

Jungkook didn't give you much time to respond before he pressed his lips against your own. He made sure to go gentle, barely brushing them over your lips.

You understood immediately–if you wanted this, you were going to have to be the one to seal the deal.

And you did, kissing him with full force. You hoped you wouldn't regret this in the morning.

.

Ever since that night, you and Jungkook had started going out. It was slow at first but six months later, you and he finally made your relationship official.

"Shh," he cooed above you. He was a bit of a blur due to the pitch darkness of the room but you felt him everywhere. He was straddling your naked sides, praising your body like it was art. "Doing so good for me baby, making me so hard–fuck."

It was your first real-time being with a man and being your new boyfriend, Jungkook made sure to be extra attentive. "Kook," you moaned, back arching and pussy throbbing from where he had recently entered you.

He dragged his thick length out of you before slamming back in, a little rougher than the previous thrust. "That's it," he said through gritted teeth. "Let me hear those pretty moans. Been dying to hear them since I first saw you in those cute little sweat shorts you like walking to the laundry room in."

"Faster Kook, please." You gripped his muscular back, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. You needed him lodged so far in your gut that you'd literally see stars. "Plea–please."

"Shit baby, if you start begging this early I can't promise you I won't go completely feral and I don't want to hurt you."

"I want all of you Jungkook," you said. "You said you'd love me right, so do it." And that's all it took for your boyfriend to lock down on your waist with firm hands, pounding into you with all he had.

You tried looking up at him, wanting to look him dead in the eye as he fucked into you but you couldn't handle it. He was dripping with sweat, his muscles were tense, veins were protruding out of neck, and his teeth were clamped shut. He was focused and he knew what he was doing. You on the other hand were a complete opposite story.

"Jung-Jungkook, oh god, fuck!" You screamed incoherently. His big cock reached every inch inside you, stretching you out with every snap of his hips. Never in your life had you had so much pleasure in a short amount of time. And embarrasing it may be, you were definitely going to come far before the usual.

"Look at you fucking falling apart already. Too much for your tight little pussy to handle isn't it? Well you begged for this, and now you're gonna take this cock like a big girl aren't ya," he barked, landing a sharp slap to your ass.

"Shit!" You yelped, clenching around him automatically. "Gonna come Kook...please-please. It's my first time I-"

You came without finishing the plead, sticky white substance ran down your thighs and onto the sheets. Jungkook's wet length continues to move in you, pushing some of your cum back in. The erotic squelching makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Mhm yeah." He planted a trail of rough kisses up your neck, teeth nipping at the delicate skin. "And now you're gonna come again, and again, and again til you're dripping with my cum. I'm gonna then eat you out while my fingers play with your clit. But congrats on your first-time baby, because from here on out, you're gonna become my slut , and I'll be fucking you seven days a week."

A/N: written a little different than usual but yeah...haha idk. Tysm for reading and lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[dragonsholygrail]

Wholesome thoughts, but I've been really stressed lately because of too much shit lol. I'm so burnt out. Having a large monster boyfriend that I could just cling to while cuddling in bed despite me being soooooo short would be amazing. He'd hold me nice and tight and call me a good girl and everything pleeeeease

Awww, hun, I’m so sorry. I hope things get better and that you get the rest you need and deserve. But in the meantime, I hope this can possibly help a bit!

You’re practically glued to your work, your eyes furiously trained on the screen. In fact, your Monster bf isn’t actually quite sure when the last time he saw you away from the screen was. Your body is practically shaking with the over exertion in which you’re forcing on yourself.

It pains your bf to see you like this, to see you so clearly exhausted and yet refusing to take a break. Your eyes drooping every few minutes before you blink rapidly and force your eyes open wide and it happens all over again. When your face accidentally smacks against the computer screen, your bf knows he can’t sit around and watch any longer.

With a heavy sigh he stands up and heads over to you. You don’t even lift up your head to look, you’re so sucked into your work. It’s only as his hands land on your shoulders do you snap out of your thoughts.

“C’mon. Let’s take a break from work for a bit,” your bf urges, sliding his hands down to your waist. He helps lift you up out of the chair before you can say a word.

You frantically look back and crane your head up, wondering what the hell is happening. But you calm down seeing it’s him. Still not really understanding what’s going on, your exhaustion causes you to easily misread his expression and you bend over the table as if he came to have his way with you.

“Oh, baby, I wanna fuck you too. But I can’t stop working right now. So how about you just go at it while I keep doing this?”

You turn your attention back to your computer, your butt popped out and lifted up for his convenience. Your bf looks over you like you’ve officially gone insane. Though your position is enticing, fucking you is the last thing on his mind.

“Love, I’m not gonna fuck you.”

Your body falls back down to your normal very short height in comparison to your bf. But your body continues to fall until you’re sagging against the table, looking even more tired than before.

“Well then what the hell is the point of a monster boyfriend if there’s no free use where he can just take me whenever and wherever he wants?” You exaggerate, your voice croaking with emotion. Your emotions all over the place with everything you have going on and your bf frowns, knowing he’s gotta take care of you asap.

With his height also comes great strength. So your bf picks you up into his arms with ease. Dragging you away from the computer and your work. You weakly fight back to stay at the computer but he easily moves you away, bringing you into his arms as he walks you two to the bedroom.

“Okay, okay. I think your lack of sleep is making you delusional.”

At this point you’re far too sleepy to resist anymore so instead, you curl into his embrace, your face burrowing into his chest.

“Hmm. Well, maybe a few minutes.”

Your bf laughs, seemingly always knowing exactly what it is you need. He’s your safe place, your comfort. The person who cares about you more than anyone else and who you care about the same way. He cuddles you close to his chest as you walk through your home.

“There it is. Good girl. Let’s go rest.”

He slides the both of you in your big bed that can comfortably fit his large form. You snuggle into the soft sheets, your limbs clinging onto your bf in a way that has him chuckling fondly.

His frame curls around you till he nearly encompasses you entirely. You’re barely see as he completely surrounds you in his presence. He nuzzles against you, getting as close to you as possible. Giving you all the comfort and support he can within the silence. But it was enough and before you know it you’re out like a light.

Your bf doesn’t sleep though as he watches over you. His clawed hands smoothing down your hair and keeping you close to him. His heart resting much easier now that his mate is finally letting him take care of her.

[theplumsoldier]

loverboy

summary: carmen makes a move on you while you think he's still got a girlfriend. could've gone smoother but you end up inviting him

pairing: carmy berzatto x afab!reader

word count: 4,2k

warnings: insecurities, self-doubt, small lies (carm makes you believe he lives closer to you than he does), vulgar language, mention of "setting boundaries" of a not-yet-existing-fwb-relationship, 18+ MDNI; smut, unprotected sex, semi-public grinding, oral (f&m receiving) soft!carm, idiots in love, friends to lovers!!

"You know, I don't think I've said this." He hadn't. "But I'm-I'm really—we're all really glad to have you here."

He was nodding to himself as he said it, and he hoped you didn't notice the hesitation. Carmy wasn't for a second doubtful that they were happy—he was certainly happy that you had joined the crew during the hectic weeks prior to The Bear's opening.

It was just that now, here, sitting alone with you in the back alley of the restaurant, sharing one of the bottles of expensive-as-shit Coup Beaujolais, he was getting unsure of himself. On whether he had completely misread your banter. He wasn't very good with that, flirting—never knew when someone was hitting on him and always double-checking whether he himself was, in fact, hitting on someone. Richie had said the chemistry between you guys was more dangerous than Fak recalibrating. Fucking stupid, he thought, but it made him think.

And then Carmy realized he had been flirting with you, in his own stupid fucking way which he worried you hadn't picked up on. Shit, he hadn't noticed it before Richie told him. Now that he sat there, with you, alone, he wondered if Richie had been fucking with him again.

Carmy wanted to know how you felt about him, but he didn't want to fuck up as was his specialty lately—didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, didn't wanna make anything weird.

"Yeah, uh. Thanks, chef," said you, chewing at your bottom lip to ease the tension. Carmy had a real habit of making situations awkward. "I'm glad you'll have me."

Phrasing.

Carm nodded, the persistent way he does whenever he's turning words in his head. You could almost hear the gears scraping.

"You always seem so cool—about everything. Like, even though we're jumpin' off the fuckin' walls, screaming n'shit, you'll just—you're collected. S'a real good quality, you know?"

You grinned, thinking of those exact memories, some just a couple of hours old. "Yeah, well—I'm sure it's more hectic n'the kitchen, right? Like there's, open fire, sharp knives and shit. Gotta be jumpin', like, all the time, yeah? To avoid the obstacles n'stuff."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Peter Parker-type shit."

"Yeah."

You held the plastic cup out and he poured you another one.

"Anyway, keeps me sane, you know? I think—I think at some point you made me realize that—that, you know, it's not normal to fuckin' scream all day. Like I didn't even realize I got fuckin' migraines 'til it was quiet, you feel me?"

It made you bubbly, to hear that Carmen did in fact appreciate having you be a part of the team.

You just sat there, quietly watching him. His bicep popped when he poured a slob into his own cup. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before taking a sip.

You sat like that, speaking mindlessly for a while, sharing experiences and goofing around. You loved this, getting to know him better, but when you suddenly found that he had sought closer to you, you felt your heart leap.

His body was so close you could feel the heat of his body radiate. It was intoxicating, more than the wine and though your subconscious reminded you it was wrong to lean into his welcoming touch, you couldn't help but forget what was right and wrong.

His crystal blue eyes caught the light from the street lamp, and you were mesmerized as he looked into your soul. You felt vulnerable but safe in his company.

Though there had been much lead-up, it seemed to come out of the blue. Carmy leaned in, and his eyes were fixated on your lips. Before your lips touched, your senses returned and you moved back against the fence.

"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?"

Fuck.

"Wait—I'm sorry! I'm sorry."

"You have a girlfriend!"

Oh.

"Wha—no, no—shit, that's not—" he stumbled back, running a hand over his dazed face, dragging the expression down with it.

Fuck—fuck! Carmen thought he must look like a fucking jagoff.

He stood with his back to you, but you could see the way his broad shoulders heaved with every.

You pushed, not appreciating the silence. "Yeah, no—her name is Claire. You've been dating her a couple months now and known her, for like, forever. That ring any bells?"

When Carmen turned around to face you, he looked defeated. He then crouched down beside you again.

"We broke up."

What?

Carmen told you how he had had an existential crisis during opening night, how he had thought he vented to Tina while stuck in the walk-in, and Claire had heard everything he had said. You could sense the sadness in his voice, but there was no regret. It spread a warm feeling in your chest, and you immediately felt a pang of guilt. When you had first met Carm, he had been with Claire and so the immediate attraction you had felt—well, you had obviously tried to suppress that.

"—I guess I just... I realized I can't both manage a—a restaurant and a relationship. I—I don't know, it don't come natural to me."

Your brows were furrowed, mixed feeling prickling at your skin. "So... why'd you try to kiss me just now?"

Again, he looked despondent.

"I—fuck, I don't know, I've—I guess I've just been feeling this for a while now, with—with you and I dunno. Richie's been getting in my head and I had a stupid thought and figured fuck it, you know?"

It wasn't a question but he was looking for an answer on your expression. Carmen feared you had stopped him from kissing you, not because you thought he had a girlfriend, but because you didn't want to kiss him.

Carmy watched as you looked thoughtfully at the ground, his hands fidgeting as you did the same.

Fuck.

It's over, he thought to himself.

Battling the voices in your head telling you not to, you said: "You know, it's not that the thought of kissing you, like, disgusts me."

His head tilted upward, hope in his sorry eyes.

"No?" he quizzed sheepishly.

"No," you chuckled. "I mean, I've thought about it before."

Carm lit up. "Ye—yeah?"

"Yeah," nodded you, wetting your lips as you recalled your fantasies. "It'd probably be stupid though, right?"

"So stupid," he agreed, nodding vigorously as if trying to shake the thought. It would be fucking stupid. He knew it. But it didn't deter him. Carm wanted to take the chance. He shouldn't, after all, he broke it off with Claire because he "wasn't ready". Why would he be ready now? "Still want to, though."

So badly. It felt more like an urge; a need rather than a want.

"So do it," you finally tested.

If you didn't, you were sure you'd back out, run into the kitchen with your tail between your legs. But you would regret that, you knew it. You tried to convince yourself you shouldn't back away. You wanted this—had for a while. Carm was the one who should second-guess himself, not you. He had ended a relationship because he couldn't dedicate himself and now he wanted to give it another shot. With you. It made you desperate, knowing he wanted you like you wanted him. Still, you worried he would kiss you and regret it immediately, confirmed in his suspicions—he didn't have time for romance. Keep your eye on the price.

"Fuck it," breathed he, putting aside an internal battle and leaned closer, knocking aside the bottle of wine as he pressed his hungry lips to you.

Your lips felt plump against his, chewed with anticipation and soft with spit. You tasted like a perfect dessert.

Lost in the growing heat, you cradled his face, swiping your warm tongue over his needy lips and Carmen did not hesitate to grant you entrance. A desperate although soft whine escaped him and you swallowed it down, living for the way he desired you.

Without interrupting the dance your tongues twirled, Carmen's large palm grasped your hip and pulled you into his lap. Automatically you ground down on him and moaned at the sensation of what you did to him.

You'd thought about how he would feel against you. From behind the bar, you always had a perfect view of his station and often got distracted by the way he moved—the way his mouth curled when he would scream commands, the way his arms would flex as he worked. It was a surprise nobody had filed a complaint against you. On more than one occasion you had mixed the wrong drink or spilled liquor because you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. It was unprofessional, but he was mesmerizing like a starry sky; the longer you looked, the deeper you fell into the abyss.

Carmen mumbled a curse under his breath as he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he ground up into your clothes sex.

"Do—doesn't feel so stupid, huh?"

You grinned and shook your head lightly, pressing your forehead against his.

"If we're gonna fuck we should probably talk about it," you said blatantly. "Set some ground rules."

Carmen was caught off guard for a second. He knew what he wanted but when you said it so casually it made something twitch in him.

His eyes were attached to your lips. They looked so delicious, kissed rough and he pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb before he even registered it.

"Probably," he breathed even though he wasn't quite sure what your words actually meant. He was quite literally thinking with his cock.

Carmen clashed his insatiable lips to yours again, but the second he did so, the back door to The Bear clicked open and Marcus appeared, garbage bags in hand. By the time you looked up at him, you had clumsily shuffled off of Carmen, sitting awkwardly with your legs to your chest. You weren't sure what he'd seen nor what he made of it.

"Hey," he hummed, moving to sling the plastic bags into the container.

"Sup, bro," acknowledged Carm, putting his hands on his hips, suddenly standing up, playing it cool.

"Imma call it a night," Marcus said. "See y'all tomorrow."

"Yeah, uh—good job t'day."

Marcus disappeared and Carmen looked back down at you, holding out a hand to help you to your feet. The interruption had broken the spell.

"Can I walk you home?" he offered. It made more sense to him, taking you home. He wasn't about to violate health code on the kitchen floor of his own restaurant.

"You live close to Maygrey?"

No.

"Yeah."

The walk might do him some good, he figured. Perhaps the chivalrous gesture would help him get lucky tonight, and even if you decided you were not about to fool around with him, he could at least say he had done a good deed today.

Carm hadn't realized you made a twenty-minute walk every night, and although he often did the same, it bothered him a great deal. He hadn't had any uncomfortable encounters himself, but he knew Sugar had. One time when she had been late to dinner at his place because of some creep bothering her on the street, and he had asked her why she hadn't called him (he would have picked her up), she told him it was not a first nor was it a last. It angered him, knowing it was not unusual for a woman to feel afraid when walking alone.

Carmen recalled your mention of ground rules, but you didn't once embark on the topic. Instead of talking about sex, you joked as if you were friends and nothing more. It made him wonder if you regretted kissing him.

Of course you invited him up. How could you not?

Carm looked dubious suddenly and you raised a brow, giving him a soft smile.

"I won't be mad if you turn me down now. No hard feelings."

He realized you were just a pair of self-doubting idiots—none of you wanting to pressure the other into something you might regret. And Carmen knew he might just do that—not because he was unsure whether he wanted this with you (he hadn't wanted something this much in a long time), no—he feared he would find himself in the same emotional clusterfuck he had with Claire.

Something about you made him want to throw caution to the wind and become the loverboy he so pathetically wanted to be for you.

How could he ever turn you down? A simple kiss in a back alley had dragged him in too deep.

You stood atop the staircase and watched curiously as Carmen closed the space. His hand cradled your face and he planted a soft kiss on your lips, not as vigorous a kiss as earlier that night, but just as hungry, just as passionate.

He then gave you a reassuring look and you knew you had it bad cause you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then.

Grabbing his hand you dragged him along with you, eagerly pulling him up the steps to your apartment, not wasting a goddamn second in connecting your lips again.

Carm chuckled against your lips as you pushed him into the door, closing it with him as if locking you away from the outside world. It was just the two of you.

Carmen was too far away to realize you had undone his belt until the familiar clinking sounded. He was so fucking hard by now, aroused by your eagerness. It was almost mortifying.

He composed himself. "Where's the bedroom?"

You gave him a look. "It's a one-room apartment, Carm."

For the first time, he looked around and got the message. The kitchen was awkwardly lodged into a small corner of the living room and the living room was also the bedroom. There was a door three feet ahead but he was unsure whether it was a closet or a bathroom.

"So when I fuck you on the couch I'll also be fucking you in the dining room?"

You looped your arms around his front from behind, pointing to the corner of the room. "Yeah, n'the trashcan over there's the bathroom."

He spun around, placing his large hands on your hips to keep you close. "Cozy."

There was a glimmering to his eyes, and his contagious charm infected you with an enticing smirk. You leaned in, cradling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

"So you gonna fuck me Carmy? Or are ya just all talk?" teased you, planting wet kisses against his throat, sucking the place below his ear. That's the spot.

In a flash, he hooked your legs around his waist and you would've been embarrassed by the stupid fucking giggle escaping you if a low moan hadn't interrupted you. His restrained cock felt even bigger now, pressing up into your clothed crotch.

You could hardly wait to see his weeping head.

Carmen straddled you on the couch, breaking your lips apart to shift his focus. Peppering kisses down your neck, your chest heaved with a shaky breath, whining for him. You wondered if he would flip you over and fuck you roughly if you asked nicely.

Another time you told yourself. Tonight, you were too ecstatic as he worshipped your body like the prettiest fucking tenderloin he'd ever seen. The thought made you smile into your arm, gasping as his hot breath swept over your belly.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he murmured against your skin, tongue poking out to taste the flesh.

Writhing beneath him, you tugged at his curls, and he swore he was about to bust right there, with your glossy and dazed eyes blinking down at him. Fuck, Carm wanted to hear you beg for him.

"What is it, baby girl?" he taunted, looking curiously at you while he peppered kisses across the skin he exposed by lifting up your shirt.

When you ground up your hips to show him where you wanted him, he kept you pressed against the cushion. You cried out.

"Carmy!" you mewled, helplessly thrashing.

After removing your shirt, he praised your patience: "you're so good for me," he said and unbuttoned your jeans. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."

You threw your head back into a pillow with a thud, wanting to both strangle and fuck him (which you had wanted many times already since you started bartending at The Bear) as he pressed teasing, open-mouthed kisses by the seams of your panty line.

"Just—mpff! Fuck me already, Carm," you whined.

His face tilted up and you wanted to slap the smirk right off of his sly face. "In a minute, baby."

As he moved back a little, you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, but when you arched your back with need he used your movements to flip you onto your stomach. He roughly placed you as he pleased, propping you on your knees, and slid in under you.

"Just a quick taste, baby," he drawled.

Realizing he was gonna eat you out, you melted completely, seated perfectly on his face as was his wish. You barely managed to get comfortable before he hooked a finger through the leg of your underwear, the cold of his ring making you shiver and he dug in like a man starved.

A sound bordering on a thirsty moan and a dry cry escaped you. Carmen looped his arms around your thighs. His tongue explored the nooks of your lips, lapping slick from your folds and into your pussy.

A string of curses left your lips as he relished your juices, groaning into your cunt. He couldn't help but relieve some of the pressure on his impossibly hard cock by palming himself through his jeans.

He had lost himself for a moment there and when he looked up, he became doe-eyed with adoration. You had removed your bra.

His hand left his cock and slid up your curves, palming your breast instead and the other went to deftly work your clit. He elicited a muffled shriek from you, obviously surprised by the sudden added sensation to the delicate bud.

"Carmy," you panted, grinding your hips against his mouth, all of it seeming both too much and not enough. He was going to ruin you and you would let him. "Fu—fuck! M'gonna come, Carm."

Your confession merely made him more eager, more hungry and he concentrated on bringing you closer, encouraging each wave of your hips with a low moan. Carmen let you fuck his face, rolling and grinding on him to persuade your release closer. You grabbed at his curls to steady yourself as it came in euphoric waves, moaning, crying, whimpering, and grinning as he lapped your cum, savoring every last drop. It quickly became too much though, and as his nose tickled your sensitive clit, you fell apart, tilting over and crashing above him.

"Ho—holy fuck," you panted and he stood up from the couch, ridding himself of his clothes until there was nothing but a gold chain gleaming at his chest.

Still recovering from your orgasm, you gaped at his size. The head was red and strained, pre-cum beading the slit making it look like it was crying. The shaft was long with protruding veins drawing purple along the length and he was thick, too thick to fit in the circle created when you connect the tip of your index with that of your thumb.

He was perfect.

Carmen looked a bit flustered from your shameless gawking but you couldn't help it. "You're beautiful, Carm."

He grinned sheepishly down at you, grasping your legs, pulling you to the edge of the couch, resting your calves on his shoulders.

"You are," he insisted, pressing his lips to yours in a feverishly soft kiss as he aligned his head with your folds.

Gasping, you took a second to relax around his head, knowing it would sting painfully if you didn't. You wouldn't let anything ruin this moment. Not with his eyes gazing so intensely down at you; not with saliva connecting your mouths with a string, not with him before you like this, looking like he was carved by fucking Donatello, nothing hiding an inch of his tantalizingly soft skin bar the gold chain dangling from his neck.

You instinctively edged closer, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him into you. He eased into you as he kissed you hungrily—insatiable, always needing more of your taste.

Carm held his breath as he bottomed out, finally exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't believe how good you felt around him, hugging—no squeezing the life out of his cock as you desperately clawed on his back, feeling every cleft and hill, moaning into his mouth. He hoped your nails would leave marks on his skin.

With your forehead pressed against his, you looked down with hooded eyes and watch as he slid in, devastatingly slow, inch by inch. Carm followed your gaze.

"God, look how good you're takin' me, baby. Doin' so well f'me—doin' so good," he groaned, head digging into your neck, licking, sucking, biting.

He commenced a thrusting-grinding pace, reaching every crevice inside you, tickling all the right places. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure so delicious as he poked and prodded places untouched. He felt unreal.

Soon Carmen drilled into you like a madman, steadying himself against your hips, rutting into you at a bruising pace. You'd feel him long after he was gone.

You held him close by his neck, securing him by threading your fingers through that damn sexy gold chain and the locks of his hair. His brows were furrowed, concentration and bliss evident in his expression.

You begged him to go faster, harder—before you knew it he granted your wish and his hand had returned to your poor clit, and you grasped whatever you could, the armrest, cushions, him.

You chanted his name, exchanging your vocabulary for his name so that he was all you knew. Carm fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own as you cried his name. The combination of your moans, your begging, and the vulgar sounds of your skin slapping—it made him fucking delirious.

His bicep flexed delectably as he put all his weight on his right arm, making a considerate pause for a sweet but overwhelmingly intense kiss, only to thrust impossibly deeper.

Feeling his consistent pace become erratic, you begged him. "Please, please, Carm—fill me up."

You could feel your frantic pleas going straight to his cock as he twitched inside you, groaning—but fuck it sounded like a frail whimper.

The furrow between his brows deepened, a red blush painting his face and chest.

"You're fuckin' unreal," he manages, shaking his head.

Carmy's pace became sloppier and more desperate, cursing into your mouth as he stuttered, a strangled moan signaling his high.

He filled you up, squirting white ropes of velvety cum into you. You felt his seed trickle out as if there was not enough room for his generous load. Then he collapsed beside you.

You lay still for a minute or so, chests heaving in unison as you came back down to Earth.

"Fuck," he said after some time, pronouncing the cuss as if he had just learned the word.

You chuckled, agreeing. "Yeah."

"Shit, lemme get ya somethin' for the—"

"No, no—don't worry," you stopped him, already getting up before he could do much. He watched you go, admiring your naked body. You reached between your legs, feeling his cum trickle down your thighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Carmy laughed when he realized what was going on, a sort of childish grin he couldn't hold back from rumbling in his chest. He hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.

You disappeared out of sight. He heard water running splash and he figured you were cleaning yourself. Carmen wondered if he would get to fill you up again—preferably sometime soon.

You returned with a damp washcloth, your feet padding softly against the floor as you approached him. Carm couldn't help but smile endearingly as he went to move to free up space for you, but you placed a soft hand on his thigh as if telling him to lie still instead.

"Oh—" he began when he noticed the washcloth, but to his surprise you wrapped your lips around his cock, earning a strangled moan from him. Your warm tongue licked him clean and you hollowed your cheeks around him as if vacuuming his mess.

The pleasure turned into a ticklish feeling and he felt like grinning and kicking his feet suddenly. You looked up through your lashes, and he felt as if his eyes had remolded into heart shapes.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with such tooth-rotting affection it made him wonder if he loved you. In this situation, it felt natural to say to you—it felt easy and welcome, right on the tip of his tongue.

You offered him an enchanting smile and took his large hand to your mouth, kissing his knuckles, then began cleaning his cock with the washcloth.

Carmen's head dropped back at your touch and he exhaled deeply.

A smile danced across his face and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; the one you had kissed.

What am I going to do with you?

[gguk-n]

Max Unravelled

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Max accidentally made an account on google plus in 2013. He came across a poetry page and enjoyed reading them. He ends up friends with the poet. He loved the normalcy she brought to his life. He didn't realise when the comfort he felt for her turned into love.

{Max's POV}

2013

I was searching for something on my gmail account when a pop up for google plus came through; without much thought I clicked on it. Some how, I'm yet to figure that out, I ended up with a google plus account. One of the few accounts I got recommended was a poetry and story account. They wrote very eloquently; I could feel the emotions in every word. I started reading all their posts in my spare time and even commenting on the ones I liked. I found my self constantly checking back to their page to see if they posted something. Their poetry was relatable and understandable. I hope they always have a good day since their words always pick me up when I'm down.

The poet I had been enjoying so much is a girl, and her name is Y/N. She's around my age; I guess that's why I related to her work so much. We spoke for the first time ever on her birthday. She made a post about it being her birthday so I wished her. She was sad about not being able to enjoy her birthday, I felt bad for her so we talked for a while until dad called me to practise. That was the start of our friendship. We ended up talking on google plus a lot. We shared the same sense of humour and best of all, she didn't know about racing. It was like a breath of fresh air to not talk about racing. She doesn't even seem interested in it; so I can live as Max for a while now.

My birthday was shit but talking to her made everything better. I can't believe I got excited about talking to someone and that someone made me feel good even on one of my shittiest days. She's one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of talking to. I really do wanna talk to her on phone, typing everything I want to say out feels tedious.

2014

I've gotten busier since this year with Formula 3. We barely get to talk anymore. She did send me her number and we chat on Whatsapp whenever we can. But obviously it is not the same. I've suggested talking on call a few time and she finally agreed; I just need to find the perfect time to get away from everything to talk to her. I felt so nervous to talk to her for some reason, what if she thought I was weird and didn't enjoy talking to me? What if she heard me and decided I wasn't fun? What if we had nothing to talk about? I called her while sitting in my driver's room, she picked up quite quickly after 2 rings to be exact.

Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Why would I say that? That sounds so fucking creepy, I face palmed myself so hard. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. She thinks I have a nice voice, do I? Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. I could hear people outside the driver's room. I quickly locked the door before answering her question. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! Did she just call me her best friend? I've never had a best friend before.

We ended up talking on calls a lot more. I would have her contact ringer saved with a separate ringtone so that I would know to answer it. She usually called at reasonable times, where ever I travelled as if she knew my schedule.

2015

I got signed with RedBull Racing's junior team, making me the youngest driver. It was such a surreal feeling. But this also meant I couldn't talk to Y/N as much as I wished I could. Training and the races kept me very busy. But she was very understanding and would always welcome me back, no matter how long I was gone for.

2021

The first time I'm regretting not telling what I do to Y/N was today when I won my first World Championship. I was surrounded by my team, my girlfriend and my family as I got out of the car after I finished P1 at Abu Dhabi but it felt strange; like I was missing someone. I wish I could share this win, the biggest in my life yet, with the person who makes me feel so special yet so myself.

When I asked her about Formula One, she didn't know about, she didn't even know the prominent figures. So, I wasn't as worried about her finding out but I did worry now; since my win was controversial according to the media. However, she never asked. Was she really unaware or playing dumb? I wasn't sure if I should be grateful I get to be just Max or sad that I can't share a huge part of my life with my best friend.

2023

Y/N and I have been friends for the past 10 years. Time really flies. I've gotten a lot better at balancing my personal and work life. Y/N is my well kept secret; like I'm the only one who knows her. She moved out for college and we've only video called since. She is still funny and still writes. I think it's so cool of her to stay passionate about what she loves and keeping at it. She loves my cats more than I love them sometimes, she get's so excited when I send pictures of them. She says they cheer her up and that Jimmy and Sassy are her virtual pets. They loved her too honestly, they would always recognise when she was on call and jump into my lap or the phone to see or hear her. She still doesn't know what I did for a living; we've kept that a 'secret' you could say. But really I just didn't know how to tell her I was a Formula One driver and a 2 time World Champion.

Today was like any other day, I hadn't spoken to Y/N at all. Whenever I called her, I would usually close/lock the door depending on who was at home. My girlfriend didn't know about Y/N. I didn't even know how to bring it up, honestly. I sat down on my SimRacing chair after I switched the livestream off. Her phone rang for a few times and then stopped ringing but she didn't answer the call. I tried again thinking maybe she was busy or didn't hear it. I called a couple times before texting her; no reply. I was freaking out. This was the first time in 10 years that she hasn't answered my calls. She won't even reply to my messages. I found myself pacing around the house. The door to the room opened to my girlfriend's daughter standing in front of me, "Maxie, why are you walking in circles?" She asked after observing me for sometime. "It's nothing" I said, trying to calm myself down more than give a reply to her question. All these horrible thoughts swirled through my mind; what if she was in an accident and no one knows? What if she got robbed? What if she hurt herself and can't get help? What was I supposed to do? I didn't even know where she lived. I just couldn't think straight. My hair was a mess with how much I was running my fingers through it, a few stands coming along when I almost pulled them out of frustration.

After 7 hours, she replied to my text. I had almost given up hope, but she said that she was fine and that her phone was about to die. I felt relieved knowing that she was ok. But the text was so out of character for her. I texted her everyday after that in hope of talking to her. We always spoke everyday and it had been years since we didn't speak for so long. Almost every text was left on delivered. I had a race this weekend which I won and went out to celebrate with everyone because they wanted me to tag along. I didn't see the text Y/N sent me a while after the race since I was at the club. I only saw it when I got home. As soon as I saw it, I called her. She answered after a few rings.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. You could clearly hear the worry in my voice. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. What did she mean by that? Her voice seemed hoarse, was she sick?Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it I wish she took care of herself instead of working so hard without breaks. Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I felt the ground slip from under my feet. My palms had gotten sweaty suddenly. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? (I stammered out) Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? I felt like I was about to lose everything. I didn't know what to say, my mouth was dry. No matter what I said, I don't think I could fix this situation. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. There was horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and my lungs felt like there was no air in them. Watching her tear up was the worst feeling.

Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. She laughed, but that stung my heart for the first time when her laugh was my favourite sound in the world. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. (I held my head in shame) Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I wanted to reach out and wipe her tears but I couldn't. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. This fucking hurt, everything she said and the way she said it. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. (I felt tears in my eyes.) Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. I felt like my world was crashing. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I was crying as she said it. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And the screen blacked out, I could see my reflection on the screen, tears streaming down my face.

After I was able to clear my head I texted her telling her that I would always be there for her and I would like to clear up the misunderstanding when she's ready. I spent the next few months thinking about her. It was starting to affect my relationship. I couldn't really give my girlfriend time when my mind was occupied with thoughts of Y/N. When my girlfriend brought it up how we were growing apart; I had a fight with her. I don't know what came over me, but not talking to Y/N or not knowing what was up with her was making it very difficult for me to focus on anything. The fighting became a constant after that. I didn't understand why she couldn't let me be. I missed my friend but she wouldn't get it.

I was SimRacing when Y/N's name popped up on my phone asking me to call her. I guess she was ready to talk it out. I really wished that this wasn't the end of our friendship. I really hoped that we could get over the misunderstanding and still be friends. I told the team I had some work and called her immediately. She answered like always; I waited for her to speak with baited breath. She started talking and we cleared everything up. I apologised for hiding the truth from her. I told her how much of a constant she was for me in my ever hectic life; how talking to her made everything better. She listened to me, I listened to her and then finally asked her to come to my home race. I wanted to meet her. I couldn't live knowing that I had the resources but didn't meet the one person that mattered to me the most. She was hesitant at first but I offered to get her the tickets and insisted on her joining me at the biggest race of the season for me and finally she agreed. I was over the moon. As soon as we ended the call, I sent her the tickets. I found myself counting down the days to the race for the first time.

I was waiting for her at the airport when she got here. My heart was beating very fast as I waited for her to come out. When I saw her; she was beautiful, shorter than I expected but she looked cute with her bag in one hand and a back pack on her shoulder, her hair in a low bun, a small smile graced her feature. I don't think I've noticed anyone with such detail ever before. Our conversation flowed easily. It didn't feel like it was the first time we were meeting. I dropped her at the hotel and went off to do media duty's at the paddock when I came back she was still asleep, traveling must've tired her out. She got dressed while I waited for her to get ready, even giving my 2 cents on what she should wear. She looked gorgeous, I couldn't help myself, staring at her. The black satin dress hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair flowed down her back, the jewellery sparkling against her body. We went to have dinner at a fancy dutch restaurant. She loved the food especially the apple tart. The moan she let out as she devoured the dessert made blood rush downwards. I found my cheeks heating up, thankfully the whole place was dimly lit. We walked around for a while after the meal, she made fun of my name but I couldn't care less. I apologised and she accepted it and hugged me. Her arms were soft and the embrace warm. I found myself wrapping my arms around her, my face buried in her neck. I was scared I was gonna lose her, forever. I've never been scared to lose anything but a race until now and the thought of not having her in my life seemed scary. She consoled me and we headed back to the hotel.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful except for my girlfriend being pissed; she fought with about Y/N. I don't get what her problem is, she's just a friend I've known since forever. I'm just showing her around. I was giving interviews when I saw her talking to Lando, I saw them laughing along in the corner of my eye. It made me feel strange, there was this feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't like it. When I got back, Lando had left since it was his turn. She found Lando cute and it irked me, I was annoyed hearing her ask me to set her up with him. We got back to RedBull hospitality when my girlfriend asked me to talk to her, I left with her reluctantly leaving Y/N with Checo.

"Listen Max, I get it, she's your childhood friend and all, but it's so weird how she suddenly cropped up when I or for that matter any one knew nothing about her. People are saying stuff about us since she stepped on the paddock and the way you are dragging her along." my girlfriend spoke. "What are people saying? I will not stand any slander against her" I cut her off. She laughed dryly. "WOW, they are saying stuff about us, Max, us, that you are cheating on me with her. You've been so distant for months until a month ago, I didn't know what went wrong and you wouldn't talk either." she said running a hand through her hair. "It's nothing really. She just knows me as Max and not Max Verstappen and that's why I'm closer to her. Nothing more." I said. "It's pointless talking to you" she said turning around. "If we're done, I'm leaving, Y/N doesn't know anyone here except me." I said leaving for the door. She huffed before she followed me out. Y/N looked worried about what was going on between me and my girlfriend but I calmed her down and we spent the day together. She tagged along during quali too. I saw her praying before quali, it made my heart swell. I was starting pole and we spent the night watching a movie even though Y/N wanted me to rest before the race, I wanted to make the most of the little time we had.

Y/N hugged me before the race wishing me. I wanted to win so bad, I'd won here twice before but this was different. I wanted to win in front of her. I raced like a mad man and then I heard it. I crossed first and my happiness knew no bounds; knowing she was watching. I got out of the car and immediately ran to her; hugging her. It was cathartic. Y/N said my girlfriend looked annoyed, but I couldn't care less. I watched my girlfriend leave, annoyed. When I received the trophy at the top step of the podium knowing she was watching me from below made it so much more worth it. Y/N wanted to go out to celebrate my win and I wasn't one to say no. I went back to the hotel to get cleaned up and ready for the night.

I was greeted by my girlfriend in the room, it was dimly lit as she was sat at the corner of the bed with tears streaming down her face. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT MAX?" she screamed at me. "Am I a fucking joke? I let it slide, you said you were friends but the first person you go to after winning your race was her, what do you think people were whispering when you did that?" she said in between sobs. I didn't get what she was saying. "Do you like her?" she asked. "What? We're friends" I stated. She shook her head, "No, Max, you aren't. The way she looks at you is how I look at you. The way you look at her" She cried, "You've never looked at me like that" she lamented. "It's nothing like that" I began. "You should've respected me at the very least and broken up with me if you liked someone else, I'm not gonna be some girl's place holder till you can have her." she cried out. "You're not a place holder for her" I said. "Feels exactly like that" she said wiping her tears. I felt nothing my 2 year long relationship might be ending and I didn't care. I didn't even try to correct her, did I really like her? Was Y/N really more important to me? "We're through Verstappen, if you can't even fight for us, I'm not about to fight for us" she sighed dejected. I walked towards the bathroom to wash up while she packed up to leave. When I got out she was gone. I went to pick Y/N up.

She kept asking me about my girlfriend but I never told her that we broke up. I didn't want her to feel responsible for my decision. At the club, she got close to everyone pretty quickly. She was unstoppable, downing one drink after another. I hadn't touched alcohol since I was driving. The others kept handing her drinks much to my dismay. She asked me to come dance with her but I had the others to look after too. She was busy dancing surrounded by too many guys, one of them going as far as to touch her and grind against her. All I saw was red, I bid the guys good bye and stormed the dance floor to drag a reluctant Y/N with me; I ended up carrying her out on my shoulder. She wasn't very happy, screaming and hitting me till I put her down. She puked as soon as I put her down and joked about missing my expensive car, I didn't really mind if she hadn't since she was more important than the car. I got her medicine and left them at her side after putting her to bed.

We spent the next few days after the race sight seeing. Y/N brought up my girlfriend a few time and I ended up avoiding her. When we were cuddling while watching Barbie I felt my heart beating out of my chest as she scooted closer to grab tissue. When her hand brushed against my skin, it burnt and a weird feeling erupted in my chest. She seemed completely unaware of how she was making me feel. We fell asleep on the couch that night.

I wasn't able to avoid the girlfriend question any longer and told her that we broke up without making any eye contact on the way to drop her to the airport. My eyes stung and there was a lump in my throat; I wasn't sure it was because of my girlfriend or Y/N. I bid her farewell, she would turn back towards me to wave after every few steps; my eyes were blurry after sometime trying to prevent the tears from falling. I ended up crying after she left.

All the races after, I ended up going shopping after or before every race to collect some trinkets or stuff that was special to that place and mailing it to her with small notes attached. She would graciously open them in front of me on video call; the smile she gave me the first time she received was unparalleled. It made my stomach turn over. I wanted to make her smile every chance I got. That's how I ended up sending her a package after every race from every country until I got reprimanded by her for the excessive amount of gifts. She asked me not to send one after every race and stick to one or two in total; I was forced to agree to that request.

We were planning on spending Christmas and New Year together; she wanted to leave after Christmas but I was able to convince her to stay until I had to leave for pre-season training. I couldn't wait for the season to end and to spend the year end with Y/N. We celebrated me winning the championship on video call; even though I had hoped she could be present in person but it wasn't possible with her schedule. This championship felt better than the last two since I was able to celebrate it with her. 2021 me wouldn't believe me right now.

Y/N flew in as soon as winter break started for her. I had cleaned up the house as much as possible. I had told my cats about Y/N visiting who seemed excited. I picked her up from the airport and when we got home the cats were very excited to meet her; a lot more receptive than the other guests I've had over. We spent the next few days going to places and the Monaco GP circuit. She cribbed about walking the entire time we walked the path. It made me laugh.

The night before Christmas we fell asleep on the couch cuddling; I hadn't slept this well in a very long time. When I woke up, Y/N was no where to be seen. I sat up waiting for her to return when she came back, she looked so cute in her jumper and shorts with her hair a mess. We opened up presents after some time. She had gotten me a Sid plushie, an ugly sweater and perfume. I got her a Formula One book with my face, a coffee mug and a pendant. I wanted to get her more stuff but I was sure she would make me return it if she saw every thing. I think the house would be over run with the amount of stuff I wanted to get her. Then she brought the matching sweater she got with me; I put it on immediately. I wanted to match with her all the time. We had a bit of back and forth on the dinner but agreed on Turkish kabab.

New Year came too quickly, which meant Y/N would be leaving soon. We went clubbing on New Year eve. She didn't drink like the last time we were at the club but made friends with some of the guys there. Having a social butterfly for a friend was a bad idea. We counted the time down to midnight as the clock struck 12 and I turned towards her to celebrate I saw she was kissing one of the guys she had befriended when we entered. If the club was quite you could hear my heart shatter. That's when I realised that all these weird feeling and all the times I couldn't stop thinking about her was because I liked her, no scratch that, I loved her. I felt my heart constrict when she turned towards me and hugged me later. I didn't want to talk about it, this would ruin our friendship.

All I could think about was how it felt to watch her kiss another man. I hated it, the worst feeling, worse than DNFing or not winning. I hated knowing another man could touch her and feel her. I wasn't even sure how to bring it up since what were we if not just friends. I put myself into training for the upcoming season but those feelings I felt when she kissed another man were still fresh in my head and I couldn't get rid of them even if I tried.

I was able to convince her to join me during her spring and summer break. We had fun, I loved having her waiting for me at the end of the race. I didn't really enjoy all the media questions that had cropped up about Y/N when she was seen with me, before or after the race. During my summer break, I spent it at her place. When I got there, it was a small apartment; but it had a homely feel. She would cook food for me and we would watch movies; I had a few commitments with the team and would leave for some time but then be back. It was so nice to have some one to come home to. When she was having her book launch, I went to meet her at her launch with a bouquet of flowers. "Congratulations" I said while handing her the flowers and giving her a hug. "Thank you" she replied, a smile playing on her lips. We had celebratory dinner after. Immediately after that, we were on the news. It read that I had a girlfriend, she kept apologising but it didn't matter. It made me a little warm, I'm not sure what emotions I felt hearing people speculate that she was my girlfriend.

I flew back to Netherland for the race early, she would only be joining me on the race day due to work. It dampened my mood but there wasn't much I could do about it. She flew in the morning of the race; it made my day watching her walk out of the airport. We talked all the way to the hotel where she got changed and we headed to the paddock. I had thought it through; after the qualifying, I had planned on telling her how I felt. I was gonna win this race and confess to her. Knowing that I can't hold her while someone else can was eating away at me and I wanted to take the chance before it slipped away from me.

I started the race P2 and finished it at P2. In the final laps, the only thoughts running through my head were, I really wanted to ask her out as a race winner, I can't do that now. She probably doesn't even like me like that, did I really want to ruin everything I had with her. I stumbled out of the car towards her, a big smile on her face. And suddenly I said it; "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner" emotions were running high. She insisted me to continue and when I did, she agreed to go out with me. I was over the moon, my head was reeling. This race ending was not what I hoped for but Y/N's answer was something I really was hoping for.

She waited for me in the driver's room. I couldn't help but not touch her. Her skin against mine send electric shocks through me, I couldn't help but smile at the feeling of her against me. I wanted to have this feeling for the rest of the life. I wanted to have her next to me; it took me a while to figure that out but now that I had, I didn't want to let go. I loved her and I wanted her.

We were both in the hotel room at the end of night in each other’s embrace, "Can't believe you're my boyfriend" she exclaimed. "Can't believe you're my girlfriend either." I exclaimed back. "I've liked you since I've known you" she mumbled. "What?" I asked shocked. "Yeah, I've always had a crush on you. Teenage me would lose it right now if she saw" she said. "I'm sorry it took me so long" I muttered pressing a kiss against her lips. "better late then never" she laughed wrapping her arms around my neck, flipping me to straddle my hips. She bent down to kiss me again.

I could spend the rest of my life like this, if it meant I could have her forever.

Hope you had fun. Thank you for enjoying the story!!

[nycreid]

could you do how popstar!reader and spencer met and like the early days of them when they were talking but not fully dating quite yet. like reader being really down bad and obsessed with him and writing about him all the time. pleaseeeeee i love the popstar au xx

Smitten

spencer reid x fem!popstar!reader

hiii anon!!! tysm for ur request and i’m sorry this is late 😞😞

Y/N knew it was the honeymoon stage but her cheeks hurt from smiling and she couldn’t help but pick up her pen and start writing about Spencer, love songs about Spencer to be specific. The days of sad songs are in her past now as Spencer sheds a new light on love for her.

They have been prancing around each other for a few weeks, the words “Can I be your boyfriend?” dancing on Spencer’s tongue and Y/N falling smitten each day with him.

The way the light reflected off his perfect sculpted cheekbones, oh how his hair messily falls perfectly, and how he felt comfortable rambling about anything and everything to her and her always listening. So, of course Y/N had to write a song about him.

“You the medication when I'm feeling anxious

That's the kind of shit I like

Teach me how to love you

I'm not learning what ain't right

I want you to keep speaking my love language.”

Was it a little direct? Maybe, but writing her feelings was the best way to let them out. Y/N releases the song on a hot day in July, the perfect song to blast on the radio on a summer road trip.

Spencer rarely drives but on the way to the BAU, he decides to turn on the radio, something pulling him to (specifically the pop radio), and he hears a light tune and your voice running on the track.

“Hm, he hasn’t heard this one before? Is this new?” Spencer thought, he can’t help but have a smile grow on his face as he listens to the song, infatuated with your voice and cheeks warm as he listens to the lyrics.

Spencer can’t help but dial your number first thing as he pulls into the parking lot and gives you a call, and you immediately answer.

“Hey, I just heard your new song? It’s- um, it’s good!” Spencer manages to sputter out while his cheeks are still a bit flushed, was this whole thing a sign for him to wake up and ask her to be official?

“Oh hey Spencer! Thank you, I’m glad you like it.” Y/N says with a teasing smile that Spencer can practically hear over the phone.

Spencer is already planning the date where he’s asking you to be his girlfriend, “Um, wanna grab dinner with me this weekend?” He mentally face palms himself for being too direct. “Sorry- was that too forward?”

Y/N chuckles, “I would love to go to dinner with you, and no it wasn’t.” Y/N smiles, “I like a man who’s forward.”

—

idk how to feel abt this i hope u enjoy anon!!! x pls send in more popstar!reader requests🙏

song is love language by ariana grande 💋

[smileysuh]

hello !!

im the same anon who messaged recently about the new mark fic :) since you're one of my favorite authors on here do you have any fic recommendations? Im interested to see what you deem a good fic

hi!!!! This is such a good question! You can find my archived rec's here. tbh, I don't read that much, and when I do read, I'm usually already friends with the author, or through reblogs and such I become friends with the author- so Imma tag some of my favourite writer beans :)

@domjaehyun (masterlist) - NCT & others

Jewel has a writing style that I can't even quantify. Her stuff is INTENSE, it gets you in the moment, it's literally everything- she's got some long fics that pass so fast cuz you're just THAT into what's going on. Her Hyuck filth is GOD TIER

My favourites are: Pussy Fiend & Quarentine Chronicals & Kiss U Right Now

@sehunniepotwrites (masterlist) NCT & others

Nikki is another one of those writers who I could read forever. Her stuff is so wholesome and sweet, but the smut is also hot as hell. The amount of detail is astounding- literally publishable work. Like, babes, write a book already

My favourites are: Going For The Gold & The Midnight Shift

@milfgyuu (masterlist) NCT & Ateez & SVT & others

Lana is so good at everything she puts her mind to. Like, the multi fandom in me lives for her blog. I started reading for her SVT stuff, died for her nct content, and I was foaming at the mouth when Ateez was added to the mix. 10/10 content no matter what group.

My favourites are: Babe Watch & Bingo & Peach

@seokgyuu (masterlist) SVT & others

Mitchie my love- I'd been meaning to read her long standing chaptered series for a while, put it off- finally started and couldn't put it down. Read the whole series in a day and now I'm obsessed. This hoe holds it over me tho- who is mc going to end up with? we don't know- but I think I'll cry no matter what because it's the end of an era

My favourite is: the Challenge Me Series

@bitchlessdino (masterlist) SVT

Nana is such an interesting writer. One of the softest bitches I know, down BAD for Dino- and then just pops up with a Halloween fic that included blood play. I really can't even with this girl- all I know is, her mind is amazing, and I wanna read more.

My favourites are: Scream Your Heart Out & Nobodys Home

@honeykyeom (masterlist) SVT

Mo is another one of those writers who does poetry. I've sat with this girl for hours and she types out one like four paragraphs of some of the most thought inducing, detailed shit I've ever heard. Fics like hers take time, and it shows

My favourite is: White Noise

[ryomens-vixen]

Yandere!Gojo Satoru -Drabble?

❤️‍🩹 CW: Gojo is a Warning, Cheating, Slight NSFW, Yandere Tendencies, threats, dub/noncon?

❤️‍🩹 Word Count: 🤷🏾‍♀️girl idk...no wc today.

❤️‍🩹 Author's notes: This was COMPLETELY out of no where, I was bored and instead of finishing this Toji fic I randomly decided to write Yandere Gojo. So enjoy and don't ask me to write for Gojo 🙄 this is a one time thing...

I don't think y'all understand how TERRIFYING yandere Gojo could actually be- like I'm not a Gojo girlie, but I pay attention to him enough to know this nga is real deal terrifying. Like let's say you and him had a bad break up and he pops up at your house after you blocked him on everything, trying to explain himself and you close the door in his face. Now the RATIONAL thing to do would just be to leave. But Satoru? Chile his only rational thoughts are he either hollow purple the house or simply teleport inside and continue where he left off. Cause what the fuck does he look like letting you go?

Nah, he'll teleport in the house and of course scare tf outta you- and whatchu gone do about it? Nothing, you can't even touch this man. Like yeah you can scream, shout, throw shit at him all you want, but it's not like you can touch the nga. You gone hear him, you gone listen to every word he has to say and even if you do decide to reject his advances he WILL stay in your house, all up in your face, all up in your bed, eating your food, etc. He's gonna make you take him back whether you like him or not, but you not leaving him. Whatchu gone do? He's the strongest, nobody can step to him except Suguru, but where is he? Nobody knows. So really all you can do is deal with him being there, annoying you, trying to talk your panties off, the mood swings I mean really you have to watch what you say to him cause his cheerful mood can switch to unhinged so quick and you know exactly how bad he can get so it's better to just play along with him until you're no longer mad at him.

I mean just the other day he told you he loved you so much but you- you clearly forgot who you were dealing with and slipped up saying you didn't love him. Now why would you slip up and say that to him? Now he's all eerily quiet and you were standing there washing the dishes like you didn't just piss off a monster? Next thing you know he's got your head in the dish water and his dick buried in your pussy, His blindfold restricting your hands, every now in then he feels you pushing your head against his hand he pulls your head up from the water only to ask you in a serious tone of you love him or not. Now... There's a right answer for everything so even if you didn't love him it would be very.. Wise to say you do- unless you want this blue eyed, white haired demon to drown you?

Or the time he caught you swiping on tinder? Are you out of your mind? You have to be- ain't no way you forgot who's in your house. Gojo had half a mind to trap you in his infinite void for a second, but listen- he's trying, he's trying to not be so impulsive, trying to communicate better, trying to not show you how weak you are compared to him. He tried to communicate to you how much it hurts him to see you on tinder, and what did you say to him?

"We're not together so it doesn't matter, Satoru. "

It's something wrong witcho dumbass like do you just forget how much danger you're in fuckin around with Gojo? THEE strongest? The Six Eyes? Head of the Gojo Clan? Now you're sitting here wondering why you can't breathe and seeing stars. He literally took you're phone and shattered it, now he's knocking the Sonic Rings out your pussy. Do you still wanna keep playing with this man? Because after this you're sure as hell going to watch what you say or do around him now.

Only after you get done getting the Chaos Emeralds knocked out your pussy. I mean he is ruthless, turning your ever which way but loose, knees always behind your heads while he's quite literally bullying your cervix, but the way that you're a babbling mess underneath him turned him on even more, but I guess that's you're fault you should have watched what you said, and now here you are getting stuffed to the brim with his cum, those bright blue eyes, that crazied smile stretched across his face, forcing you to make eye contact with him. Gojo enjoyed seeing that expression you were making, he knows he's the only only who could ever fuck you like this, his dick is the best you've ever had nobody could compare to him no matter how mad you were.

"That's right baby, you're my girl, aren't 'cha? Mine, Mine, Mine. You.. Fuck.. You and this pussy mean so much to me!"

"Say it, Y/N, Say you love me baby, say it, say it, say it!"

"Fuck- This pussy s'good, s'good baby, just for me."

"You'll t-take me back, be a family again, you'd like that wouldn't you? Putting a fuckin baby in you- wouldn't you?!"

Out of everything he said that's the only thing that caught your attention, your panic? You were never ready for a baby- But what were you gonna do? Deny him? You've already fucked up denying him a relationship, Yeah he cheated, but in your current situation was it really ever that deep? He never showed his crazy until now and too be honest it was scary and arousing at the same time. But you had to come back to earth before he ACTUALLY baby traps you. Maybe tricking him into giving you a break? You had just the idea, asking him in strangled moans to let you ride it, damn near begging.

Surprisingly- it did work, you were engaging with him instead of fighting against him, Gojo thought to himself as he sat up pulling you on of him. His demeanor seemed a bit more cheerful than deranged like earlier. But now that you've come back to your senses and realized who you're fucking with.. It was time to play along, maybe even reason with him. Once you were on top of him finally able to catch your breath- your fingers interlaced with his, impatient as ever he bucked his hips up into you making you plead with him to wait a second.

*Pant* "Sa- Satoru wait, just a second lemme talk!"

He looked so annoyed, so irritated with you, but way not he'll bite.

"Fine, what more important than me putting this fat cock in your stomach?" Oh that devious look only his face.

"Satoru, you're right, I do wanna get back together, I was just being jealous, Toru- I wanna fix us before we ever consider having a baby, okay? Please?" God he loved the way you pleaded with him, even saying please? Man it made his dick jump, but it also mad him so happy, you wanted to be with him again.

You watched his facial expressions in worry since he hadn't said anything yet. That was until he bucked his hips into you again ... Repeatedly. But at least he had on his usual joyful expression- he seemed happy now. Nothing could ruin it just as long as you were cautious about the things you say or do. There's no use in being petty or angry with him because will always without missing beat show you his crazy.

But you should be glad you don't live in an apartment, because babeh.. The noise complaints y'all would be getting right now, I mean the headboard is literally banging against the wall. Your screams were nothing to talk about either you two were being so loud right now, you were his again and even though he didn't respond to your statement beforehand, his actions would surely speak for him. Like instead of his baby trapping you Gojo pulls out cumming all over your stomach and himself.

"My Girl.. Now how about we try for a baby when you move in with me tomorrow?" He said so cheerfully like it was nothing.

"HUH?!"

Yeah... Gojo Satoru was insane and you're the only person that has EVER seen this side of him. You're stuck with this monster now, but at least his dick is good, right?

Tags: no tags this time we'll see what the algorithm does with this and again do not bother asking me to write more Gojo I literally hate this dude. 💕

[marleyybluu]

Boy, Bye

Spooky x black!fem!reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: 18+, smut central (with plot), flirting, mentions of drinking and drug use (relax it's just weed), smoking and driving (but don't be this stupid), Spooky being a nervous boy at the end, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap that bitch up we don't need any more crotch goblins jk), creampie because I'm a sick bitch, Spanish nicknames as usual, probably misspelling bcus I was high as shit writing this. lmk if i missed anything

A/N: This was inspired by Boy, Bye by Ari Lennox, her album age/sex/location is a banger I have rediscovered it and the idea hit me like a brick. I do wanna say I don't mention the readers skin tone or anything but she is a black woman bcus i mentioned a fresh set of braids. and black women should be the only ones wearing box braids, wigs, etc... in case yall forgot :)

Not my gif.

The distinct chatter of club patrons droned out of your ears as a persistent ringing replaced it. You sat at the bar, your back turned to counter and your elbows planted firmly on the surface. Just minding your business. Drinking your rum and coke.

"You look sweet like mangoes." A very hot and unwarranted breath invaded your space and it was a reminder as to why you didn't want to come out in the first place. Men were gross, they ruined everything with catcalls and what they think are sweet pickup lines. You turned your head to look at him, he flashed a drunken smile— his teeth crooked and filled with whatever he'd eaten before he got here. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the crowd.

He wasn't the first to approach you tonight, especially since you dispersed from your group to sit at the bar, your feet killing you from the stupid but cute heels you wore. "Sweet like mangoes huh?" You reiterated. He nodded leaning in closer as you leaned away. "Yeah. I know."

The man chuckled at your lack of a 'thank you.'

"Now why are you acting like that? Hm? A man can't get to know you?"

You wrapped your lips around your straw and sipped obnoxiously but he wasn't budging. "A man whose leftovers aren't in his teeth can get to know me." You bit. The man leaned back in disbelief, your comment seemingly sobering him up. "Well, fuck you then bitch."

You raised your glass. "You wish you could." That added fuel to the fire and he stormed off like a pissed off toddler. You smiled taking the last sip of your drink, turning around to place it on the bar, you needed a bit of time before you ordered another, might be the last before you go home. You hopped off the stool and grabbed your purse heading to the restroom, surprisingly there was no line but a few girls were hogging the vanity reapplying whatever makeup had come off. You shuffled inside the small stall and propped your purse on the hook of the door.

Once you were done handling business the women had disappeared and you had the sink to yourself, you washed your hands and dried them off with the paper towels provided, and you checked yourself out flipping your fresh braids to the side finding that was cuter than just having a middle part. When you were satisfied you headed back out putting a little pop in your hips. On your way back to your spot you noticed a man, a young man maybe about your age, sitting in on the seat next to yours. You shrugged and headed over anyway hopping back up without saying a word.

You pulled out your phone and noticed a notification from the group chat, one of the girls asking if you were okay and where were you. As you typed you remained oblivious to the stranger next to you, unaware of the little glances that he took at you. He tipped his head back as he drank from his Corona, you sighed putting your phone down. "You're good?" He asked, genuinely, to your surprise. You looked over at him and nodded. Your eyes analyzed whatever you could see in the shitty and low lighting. The first thing you noticed was the shaved head, not really your thing but it was cute on him, his bushy eyebrows raised in interest watching you examine him. He sported a small moustache and a goatee, the sides were clean-shaven, his slim and aquiline nose complimented him as well and with a nose like that, you wondered how the rides were on that face.

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked breaking the silence, you'd accept it, telling him thanks and allowing him to wave over the bartender. You remembered seeing a whiskey sour on the little drink menu and ordering that while he ordered another Corona. He smiled at you, his cheeks so high it made his eyes squint, and you tugged at your bottom lip. "Don't worry I don't have any corny ass pickup lines like the rest of these putos." He reassured. You playfully dismissed him. "Eh, they aren't so bad." Lies.

He turned himself in the stool, his whole body facing you-- one leg on the footrest of the seat and the other on the floor. Your eyes involuntarily dropped down to his lap and quickly back up to his eyes. "Yeah? So, how come you pushed 'em all away?"

He'd been watching you?

"'Cause none of them bought me a drink." You flirted. "Oooh, so that's why I haven't gotten dissed yet?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"I can respect that."

Your drinks arrived and you thanked the bartender. He raised his bottle. "Salud."

"Salud." You copied. You took a sip and shook your head, damn that really is sour. He snorted at the way your face contorted. "Don't like it?"

"Didn't expect it to be that sour."

"I could get you a different drink."

You passed. "It's okay, I can handle it. Plus I wouldn't want one of your little girlfriends seeing you buy me more than one drink."

He rolled his eyes bringing his drink to his lip, "No girlfriends over here."

"Surprised."

"Why?"

You set your whiskey sour down and boldly stated, "You're way too fine to be alone." He turned his head away from you, a warm feeling spreading across his face but he couldn't let you see it. "Thanks, mamita." He responded turning back to your direction. "You sure your man won't fight me for buying you one? 'Cause I can put up a good fight cariño."

You tilted your head to the side, smitten. "No boyfriend's over here."

"Good to know."

— — Your once drastic and boring night was starting to look upward. Spooky, you found out to be his name, was good conversation. Yeah, he threw a corny line here and there but you actually liked them coming from him, he wasn't trying too hard he was just being playful.

Your eyes landed on the imprint on his neck, a crucifix tilted on its side with the name Santos etched down the middle. "Los Santos... hm are you?"

"Am I what?"

You leaned into him your hand finding its way to the side of his neck and gently dragging your nails on his inked skin. "A saint."

His eyes focused more on your lips. "More of a sinner." He mumbled. You giggled tipsily. "Boy, bye."

The DJ had announced it was the last song of the night, you looked at your phone reading 3 AM, your plans to leave early had been disrupted in the best way. Spooky noticed your attention detour. "Ready to go home?"

You sighed now not wanting the night to end. "Guess so."

"I could drop you home."

Your eyes sharpened, you didn't know him... but, fuck, you liked him enough to almost agree to it. "I don't know if I want a sinner dropping me home."

He put his hand over yours, the contact sparked a warm feeling in your lower belly. He guided your palm to his chest. "I'll be a saint,cielito, don't worry."

You laughed wholeheartedly. "That was so fucking lame."

"Made you laugh though."

It did.

You agreed to take the ride and while he paid for the drinks you texted the group:

Y/n: got a ride home ;) I'll talk to you bitches tomorrow.

They gassed you up for any potential activity tonight and hoped that you'd get home safely. Spooky got off first and held his hand out to help you down, he didn't let go as he led you through the crowd, he met up with the boys you assumed he came with and dapped them up with his free hand, his other one never letting go of yours.

Soon, you two were out the door, you lowkey stumbled through the parking lot, alcohol and heels were never a good combo. He helped you though. And you two arrived in front a Red Impala, your mouth twitched with fascination. "Nice car." You blurted out. "Thanks ma, worked on it myself."

"Damn, he's cute and a mechanic? You sure no one is crazy over you?"

He opened the door for you. "No, just you."

"I'm not crazy, yet." You pointed before sliding inside. He closed your door and headed over to his side. Your body was full of tingles, the feeling reaching your toes but you didn't know if it was the buzz from your drink or if it was him. Either way, you were enjoying this.

Spooky pulled off. You sighed and smiled lazily throwing your head back, you were floating— your body felt like it was flying through space. "You smoke?" He asked, you heard a lighter flicker and you shook your head. "I do, but I can't take anything else right now."

He shrugged and inhaled the THC, he reached for the dial on his stereo and turned up the volume, the music he was playing earlier resuming its beat. Sierra Leone by Frank Ocean serenaded your ears. "I love this song."

You hummed along to the slow tune. Spooky caught you in the corner of his eye, he smiled. He enjoyed the show and the company until he pulled up to your neighbourhood and into your driveway. You groaned, did he really have to go?

You notice him turn the car off. "You're not coming inside you know."

He smirked. "Don't worry, I'm just taking you to the door at least."

You slightly frowned, he left you for a few seconds before your door opened and he offered his hand once again. You successfully landed on your feet, your hand moulded with his and now it was your turn to lead him. Up the steps. You fumbled with your keys until you found the correct one, you felt nervous under his gaze. Those low eyelids undressing you, you just knew it. Your key slid into the slot and turned it unlocking your door. "Thanks... for the ride."

"No problem, ma." You looked up as he towered over you. His energy pulled you in, you were drunk but you weren't that drunk. Maybe he could come in for a little bit.

— — Clothes spread across your bedroom floor, the sheets sliding off the bed like melted cheese. You two were in a tangle of limbs, naked bodies pressed against each other, his nose brushed yours as he planted the softest kiss on your lips. Your hands flew to his flushed cheeks pulling him in with eagerness and at the same time, his slender finger running over your blue panties. You smiled against his lips. His kisses were so warm and passionate. 

He used his fingers to tug at your panties, hauling them to the side. You whined feeling him run them between your wet folds, collecting and salivating your juices. He toyed with your clit, slowly and steadily, your hips bucking up to chase his touch. Ending your short misery a finger entered your heat, you gasped in the middle of your kiss and your eyebrows knitted together, your face reading 'finally.' You smiled hazily against his lips once he pulled it out and plunged back in with an additional finger. "Fuuuuck."

He skillfully curled his fingers up hitting that spongey spot, that sweet spot. You squirmed under him with pleasure and anticipation... desperation, for more. You sat up on your elbows looking down and seeing his fingers work their magic on you, your mouth fell open, pushing your hips forward once again. You just wanted more.

You looked back up at him. "You're so pretty when you make that face, cariño." He complimented. The heel of his hand brushed against your pulsing clit, you clenched around his fingers causing a smirk to appear on his face. "S-shit, please."

"Please what mi amor?"

For once, you were in no mood for foreplay, you were very slick and sticky with arousal. "Just fuck me, please."

He smiled shaking his head at your earnest request, he continued his teasing assault on your sweet spot, his lips connecting to your neck, your eyes rolling at the immense pleasure you were receiving. Your hand on the back of his neck holding him in place. "Yes... oh... yes!" He was pulling your orgasm closer and closer, your hips raised off the mattress. "I thought you just said you wanted me to fuck you?"

"I-I do."

"Doesn't seem like it now." He evilly chuckled. The sound of your pussy juice and your frantic whimpers went straight to his dick, his growing erection poking at your leg. "I'm gonna cum." You wept. Spooky slowly pulled out his fingers leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, you groaned glaring at him. He winked wrapping his lips around the fingers that were just inside you, he licked off your essence until his fingers were clean. You giggled dropping your head on the pillow.

Spooky pulled off his boxers and his dick sprung out with a wet thud once the tip hit his lower abdomen, fuck he was so hard, you drooled at the sight spreading your legs further apart. He wrapped his hand around his girth sliding his tip between your soaked folds before carefully pushing his length inside you. Your voice broke at the feeling of him against your gummy walls, enveloping every inch he had to give you. Your bottom lip finds comfort between your teeth, your head tipped back and your toes curled. His sack hits your ass as he bottomed out. Filled you to the brim.

Spooky held his position, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. His warm hands find solace on the back of your thighs, sliding up to the crook of your knee. You felt as he pushed your legs back, your knees touching your chest. He pulled his hips back and pushed them forward flush against your pelvis his coarse curly hair at the base of his shaft brushing against your clit, an additional sensation. 

Your hands wrapped around his wrists as he rocked into you, giving you strokes you've never felt in your life. Your mouth fell open, breathless whispers leaving your throat, egging him on about how well he stretched you, how full you felt with him inside you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so-o good." 

Spooky smirked looking down at you, your various love faces so beautiful being contorted with pleasure. He leaned down, your legs now planted on his shoulders, he kissed your nose and then forehead before pressing his against it. There was a mix of sounds-- his grunting, your erotic moans and the sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls, if you lived in an apartment they'd probably knock on the wall to complain. 

You could feel yourself leaking, dripping, onto the sheets and coating his dick in your desire. "You're so fucking pretty when you're taking me, princesa. Eres muy guapa." He groaned, your head fell back, your high carefully approaching once again. Your nails left crescent shapes on his skin. "Shit! I like being inside you, you're so fucking wet, bebita." 

Your walls constantly fluttered around him. He hissed and you smirked. "I know you feel that, fuck, I'm gonna cum for you." 

His hand slipped between sweaty bodies, his fingers finding your clit once again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, his teeth nibble at your jaw. "Right there! Uh-huh, right fucking there!" Spooky pounded into you, hard yet maintaining rhythm. Your eyes are glossy with incoming tears, the overstimulation of it all. "Fucking squeeze me, mamita. I got you, cum on this dick." 

His words tip you over and your body tenses up and your eyes fall into the pit of your skull. He felt every pulsation of your orgasm, his tip constantly hitting your spot. He held up his weight, his hands rested on your lower back fingers gripping your ass cheeks. His thrusts became sloppier as he helped your ride out your orgasm and his quickly approaching. "Oh my god," You hazily giggle. "Fuck! Yeah, use me to get yourself off, please. Cum wherever you want, baby, give it to me." 

Spooky pushed in one more time, you faintly smiled at the feeling of his warm spend squirting inside of you. You were both out of breath, Spooky leaned back and sat on his knees with his softening dick still buried inside you. He helped take your legs off his shoulder and you mumbled in pain. "Shit... I mean I didn't expect you to actually fold me." 

He laughed. "I said I was gonna do it." He spoke in reference to his warning earlier when you lured him into your house. He leaned down once again to give you an affectionate kiss. "You feeling okay?" 

"More than okay." You confessed. "Good," He kissed your nose before pulling out, you almost pouted at the loss. "You're okay if I grab some water?" 

You nodded telling him there were bottles in the fridge, he shot you a thumbs up and put on his boxers before he left, once he was out of your sight you let out a big sigh of relief and a very bright smile was sure to follow. You felt so giddy, butterflies were making their home in your nervous system. What the fuck was this feeling? 

Spooky grabbed two bottles and made his way back upstairs, offering you one. You thanked him and sat up as carefully as you could. You caught a prideful smirk on his face. "Don't start." You warned him, he put his hands up in defence. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked out of the blue. "Not much, why?" 

"Uh, I'm not one to overstep my boundaries and it's up to you,  really, but do you want to get something to eat?" 

You nodded. "Of course. Any places in mind?" 

"There's a... breakfast bar... downtown." He sounded more nervous with that statement. You blushed. "Breakfast? Oh, so you want to spend the night with me, Spooky?" 

He suddenly felt like an idiot, he was very much a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits person but with you, he kind of wanted to see if this could go somewhere. "If that's cool with you." 

You set your bottle down on the nightstand, you smiled propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You crawl over to him and kiss his temple, you go down to nibble his ear and whisper; "If you keep fucking me like that, I just might have to keep you." 

He shivered, his dick jumped at the thought alone. Quickly the roles were reversed back his fingers intertwined with yours as he put you on your back. 

"I better get to work then."

If you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

peace and love, see you in the next one.

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit

if i'm missing any tags or if you'd like to be tagged in any upcoming fics let your girl know.

[itsmarsss]

32 for the kiss prompts (because if it doesn't invite stolitz I don't know what does lol).

And its 2:30am here so I'm going to bed, but the prompt you sent me will be out tomorrow :)

-Salem <3

32- a a kiss while someone watches...

…naturally. have i become unnoficial stolitz x reader nation?

warnings: established stolitz relationship, stolitz sex, implication of stolitz x reader sex, daddy kink, talks of having a threesome, im so tired rn if this is badly written im so sorry girly ily

you know… you, me and… someone else

Blitzø should probably have tried to find a more convenient way and some more convenient moment to talk about this.

It's not that it's impulsive. He's been rehearsing how to approach the subject for weeks now, but is there really a right way or a right time to ask your super lovey-dovey boyfriend if he'd be up for a threesome with your best friend without it sounding, like... really fucking wrong?

Maybe he should have planned a romantic night with rose petals on the bed and a bottle of wine and a bubble bath after fucking his brains out so good he saw stars and then eased the question in, but, man, he was getting fed up of thinking about it and not managing to say anything, so lying on the couch with Stolas draped on top of him with his weirdo telenovela in the background it would be.

"Hey. Stols?"

Stolas doesn't look away from the screen. "Yes, darling?"

"Can I ask you something without you getting mad at me?"

That seems to catch his attention. He looks up. "That makes me feel a lot like you're definitely going to say something that you already know will make me mad."

"No, it's just- just promise it already!"

"I'm getting worried."

"Stolas!"

"Alright! I promise. What it is?"

Oh shit he didn't think he'd actually be getting this far. "Have you ever... uh, you ever thought about a threesome?"

Stolas chokes on his own spit, eyes almost popping out of their sockets, and he pushes himself up off Blitzø now, sitting down next to him and facing him. "A what?"

"A threesome. You know... you, me and... someone else."

"Someone else? Like who?"

"Answer the question first!"

"I- uh. I can't say I have seriously considered that before. Have you been thinking about that?"

"A little. Are you mad now?"

"Not mad. Just... surprised, is all."

"Are you actually cool with that?"

"I did make a promise."

"It's not ‘cause I don't think you're enough or anything."

"Okay."

Blitzø feels like this is a trap. Why was he being so chill about this? He feels the need to keep explaining himself. "I just... ya know, I thought it could be fun. I mean shit we've tired almost everything there is to try, right? But we've never had a threesome."

"Do you think we would enjoy that?"

"You never had a threesome?"

Stolas only glares at him. Obviously he hasn't, dumbass.

"Oh. Right. Well, I mean, it can be good, can be bad, can be whatever. Kinda the same shit as it is with just two people."

"And who would you want to bring into bed with us?"

"Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm trying to cheat on you."

"That is not what I'm doing."

It still feels like a trap, but what else was he to say than the truth? "Well. If you wanna know so bad. I could be down if y/n was down."

"Y/n... your best friend, y/n."

"You know, we can trust them, things would be comfortable. They’re not... bad to look at, either…”

Stolas stares down at him with an eyebrow raised, unamused. "If you're going to talk about this don't be a coward about it."

"Okay, I think they’re pretty hot and I've been thinking about fucking both of you for a while. But only if it's with you and only if you'd like it too. Or whatever.”

"How romantic."

"Don't be a dick, Stolas. I'm serious."

"No, that actually is very romantic coming from you."

"So. What'cha think about it? We don't have to do it. It's just a thought. Don't even know if they’d want to either."

"They would." Stolas states, as if that were obvious.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you really never noticed the way they look at the both of us?"

"What?"

"You know, at first I thought they just wanted to fuck you which, I will admit, it did make me a tad bit mad that they wanted my boyfriend like that. But then I noticed they were looking at both of us that same way. Especially when we're together."

"Wait, wait, wait, they’ve been giving me bedroom eyes this whole time? They’ve been giving you bedroom eyes this whole time?"

"If I'm not mistaken. I actually find it rather... endearing."

"And you never bothered to fucking say anything about it?"

Stolas simply shrugs. "Never came to mind. You can get pretty possessive, darling.” He cups Blitzø’s jaw with one of his hands, squeezing his cheeks together until he’s forcing Blitzø to pout. "I wouldn’t want to upset you."

Blitzø pushes his hand away. "So you find it endearing? What does that fucking mean? You into it?"

Stolas stops to think for a moment. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Oh shit. You saying we could do it?"

"Perhaps. Let me consider ir for a few days, will you?"

"Yeah. Yeah sure. Cool. Cool, cool, cool."

[. . .]

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Stolas repeats the word like a mantra, and he’s not sure if they’re meant for himself or for his boyfriend, but he couldn’t give a single fuck about it if he tried, because Blitzø has him with his back pressed to his chest, his legs spread wide so Stolas can sit pretty in between them with his own spread open as well. Stolas has his head thrown back onto Blitzø’s shoulder and his hips bucking up involuntarily into the vibrator Blitzø presses against his entrance, chasing a release pointlessly, as Blitzø’s still taking his sweet time before even considering pushing it inside of him.

He kisses Stolas’ neck as he moves the toy, playing with the pressure he holds it against his boyfriend’s body with before getting a twisted idea.

Stolas is still whispering something under his breath, and then Blitzø just stops. He halts all his movement, he retracts the hand that held the toy and he leans back on the bed frame, watching Stolas scramble to look at him in a mix of frustration and confusion. “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You’re gonna finish yourself off for me.”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh I’m dead serious, hun.”

“I- I-“ Stolas is actually going to let Blitzø know how frustrated that made him when Blitzø slaps him across the face.

“Now.”

Oh shit. Fucking right away, sir.

Stolas goes back into the same position he was just in, back flushed to Blitzø’s chest and head on top of Blitzø’s shoulder, and impatiently moves his hands straight to his hole, wasting no time in inserting a finger in, already plenty wet from the fun that was cut short. He lets out a lewd, needy moan right to Blitzø’s ear as he pushes that finger in entirely, and Blitzø eats that right up.

“Needy fucking whore, can’t even tease yourself a little can ya? I’ll tell you what, you make yourself cum once and daddy makes you cum twice later, yeah? How about that?”

And then Stolas says the absolute most wildest thing he could say at that moment, all heavy breaths and whines and moans and hoots.

“Why don’t we call y/n up? I bet they could get me off for you.”

“What? You can’t just say that, Stols.”

“Ha. Made you blush.”

“What- what?”

“I don’t want to get myself off. It’s no fun. I want your big hands and your big fingers and your big dick and-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it. You’re not getting away with that one, Stolas.”

“I don’t plan to.”

“Oh you are so getting it.”

“That is the plan, yes.”

[. . .]

Blitzø is on his knees with his arms around the back of Stolas’ thighs and he laps up at Stolas’ gushing hole, the leg his boyfriend had hiked over his shoulder to grant him better access shakes and the grip he has on the base of his horns tightens. Stolas lets out the prettiest, most beautiful noises as he lets him ride out his high with his tongue deep inside him until he’s being literally kicked away for causing oversensitivity. He loves it.

He stumbles as his back hits the floor but quickly props himself up on his elbows to look up at Stolas, who looked so very hot when he decided he did want to take charge, may Blitzø add.

“So. Good, huh?”

He knows it was good. He could see it was good, feel it was good, hear it was good, even taste it was good.

“Very good, y/n- sorry, Blitz.”

“Oh fuck you.”

Stolas smiles in contempt at his own ‘slip-up’ but says nothing.

[. . . ]

Blitzø may not be the greatest at getting hints but he’s sure gotten this one. He’s already chill with the threesome thing not happening and he’s already thinking of what the hell he can do to make Stolas stop being passive-aggressive about it.

He gets it, alright? It wasn’t a good thing to suggest they do, and he did not want to be caught by surprise by any more sarcastic remarks about that while they’re fucking just so Stolas can prove that point.

He’s trying to come up with a way to approach Stolas about that this time when he gets home to moaning, which just gets him excited, expecting to find Stolas with his hand between his thighs, humping his vibrator at a perfectly convenient time to be 'accidentally' caught, only to be met, instead, with his boyfriend, in just his robes, making out with his half-dressed best friend on his fucking bed.

They're so enthralled they don't even bother pulling away from each other, even though Blitzø knows they've noticed his presence in the room, still entangled in passionate, hungry, aggressive kisses that brought out noises so dirty they belonged in a porno.

And all of that just from kissing? Oh this had to be a show.

Maybe he got the wrong idea from Stolas’ reaction, then.

He's sure of that when they do pull away, and Stolas puts on a very low-effort façade of surprise before exclaiming "Darling! I didn't know you would be home yet!"

"Yeah, that why you were 'bout to fuck my best friend?" He eyes you up and down, and you look down at the floor, nervous about his reaction to the ‘surprise’ Stolas had staged and so, so hotly asked if you would be up to.

"Well I couldn't help but think about that conversation we had last week. And wouldn't you know it, y/n has had similar thoughts too!"

Blitzø eyes you. "That true?"

You nod. "Sorry if it’s weird."

"What is weird is coming home to you making out with my boyfriend."

"Oh, shit, I didn't- Stolas said- I’m sorry.”

"Yeah. Sooo weird. And so fucking hot. "

Oh, this was gonna be a fun night if he's ever had one.

[restinslices]

Can you write the Lin Kuei boy’s reaction to a surprise spa day by their spouse? Like it’s a rare day off and their partner’s surprised them with a nice day of rest and relaxation?

I’m on meds again and it has me exhausted so this might be short and some may have longer parts than others. I didn’t check. I’m finna go to sleep again

Bi-Han

I wouldn't be surprised if he initially turned it down 

He expects things to pop off and for him to be needed so a spa day seems like it'll prevent him from being ready if he's called upon 

You don't take no for an answer tho

Grumpy the entire time but doesn't hate it 

He just doesn't wanna admit he was wrong and a spa day wasn't torture 

I think he'd enjoy things that don't take awhile or something that allows him to still move around 

Like, you know when someone is being waxed and they gotta lay there? I don't think that’d he something he'd enjoy 

Something like a facemask tho (put it on quickly then he can do whatever else while it dries) he'd enjoy more 

Some people get their nails done, and I don't think he's like “absolutely not!” but I don't see him wanting a color. He's a clear gel type of guy 

Now I will go back and contradict what I said earlier and say he'd enjoy a jet bath 

Has a shorter spa day than the others. At some point he's just like “yeah I'm over it”

“That wasn't so bad, now was it?” “It wasn't terrible”

Just say you appreciate it 

Kuai Liang

A spa day? Sure!

I feel like saying he'd enjoy the hot things (sauna, hot bath, them hot ass rocks) is stereotypical because the whole fire thing but imma say it anyway 

Probably enjoys activities that you can do as a team 

Like sitting in a sauna. You're together and you can chat 

Or bathing together 

Appreciates a bit of relaxation because his life? Stressful as fuck 

Especially if this is after Bi-Han's betrayal 

Definitely open to having another spa day. Whether it's a surprise or not 

I see all of them as clear gel guys tbh 

Also enjoys a jet bath, but honestly who dislikes a good bath?

Dislikes the whole face rubbing shit 

Why do I think this? I'm just tryna make them different. I think it's essential to be truthful in our relationship-

Yeah the spa day is for him but he checks in to make sure you're having a good time too

Makes sure to repay the favor. This could mean taking you out to eat after, taking you out another day soon, paying for the next spa day, getting you a gift, ect. Whatever you want. 

“How was it?” “It was great! Thank you”

Tomas

Him turning down a spa day? Absolutely not. Do you remember when his last day of peace was? He doesn't 

Ignore that this is literally the era of peace-

Enjoys the little vacation and makes sure you know he's appreciative of you thinking of him 

You both wanna cater to the other and do what they wanna do first so you have to compromise and take turns 

You do what Tomas is interested in, then what you're interested in and then it keeps going like that 

Enjoys the steam room because smoke pun obviously 

I don't think he necessarily needs to chat the whole time, but he likes you still being near 

You MIGHT get him to agreeing to a little waxing 

Y'all know how men are. They're all big and strong but squeal when waxing is involved 

Milks the entire day for what it's worth. A jacuzzi? He's in there. Steam room? Yes. Massages? Absolutely. 

There's nothing he misses. You paid for it so he might as well do everything while he can 

Definitely wants to do it again 

“So I'm assuming you enjoyed it?” “You really need me to answer?”

[entertainmentgirl80]

A City Girl & A Country Boy's Date 🤠😘

Warnings: FLUFF

"Okay, sooo, where are you taking me, Mr. Owens?" You were suspicious but curious.

"I'm taking you somewhere special, you will gonna like it, I promise, and don't worry I not gonna murder you, I'm not that type of person, besides, my mama raised me well. That is the man I am today." He has a Cheshire cat smirk on his features.

"Okay, you have my word, so where the rest of your crew though, this evening, if you don't mind ask?" You furrowed your eyebrow.

"They are back at the hotel, relaxing before we hit to chase more storms tomorrow." He answers while driving.

Looking at the window, while you are sitting on the front passenger side of the truck, you never thought the back of your mind while you think to yourself that the tornado wrangler, Mr. Tyler Owens himself is taking you on a date, now, sure. At first, the day that you met him, when you came to Oklahoma just to get away from the big city for a vacation. Then, suddenly, this man laid his pretty green emerald eyes on you and the rest is history, at first impression: he have a cocky but arrogant personality because how he came off towards you after the two of y'all met at a motel while he was with his crewmates. So, day after day, once the two of you get to know each other, Tyler is the most sweet but humble man you ever meet. Sure, he still has that shit-eating smirk on his features. However, deep down, he is still a good man, despite his cocky demeanor.

"We here, darlin'" he killed the engine on his truck.

He got out of the truck, and open the door on your side, and he give his hand to you, after you got of the car, and you amaze that he taking you a rodeo on a first date....

"Can I tell you something?" You sitting down next to Tyler.

"Anything, sweetheart." He furrowed his eyebrows, just curiously.

"I'm never been a rodeo before in my life." You confess to him.

"Well, honey, tonight is your lucky night, cause there is a first time for everything." He has a Cheshire Cat smirk on his features.

So, afterward, y'all went to get something to eat, and went straight back to the motel, so the two of you walking down the hallway towards your room, before, you go in for the night, you cup Tyler's face and kisses him, and he kisses you back, so after that, both of you said good nights to each other, and you went to your room.

Bonus Content:

You woke up the next day, brushing your teeth, gotten dressed, and headed out to start your day. So while you were out and about doing simple things like shopping, your stomach was rumble, meaning you haven't eaten all day. So, you went to Starbucks to get your favorite drink & your sandwich as well, so, after you went in and paid for your stuff. You decided to go outside, since today is decent, and sit down, enjoying the view, so while eating, you pull up on YouTube, just scrolling. However, in the back of your mind, you type in Tyler's name, and it's popped up, and so, you click on their page, and you saw that they were on live doing one of their tornado adventures, and your smile creep up because of Tyler's charming but rebellious personality that you can't help but enjoyed especially that always been his passion that and helping others who affected the aftermath of tornadoes. So, after you were done eating, you went back to the motel, and long behold, Mr. Tornado Wrangler himself saw you with bags in your hands.

"Hey, city girl, I see you that you went shopping today." He greeted you with a smirk on his features.

"Hey, and yeah , I just didn't want to stay in the room all day, you what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I'm understand, I feel you on that."

"So I'm did binges watch some of your videos, today." You confess him while your cheeks are blush.

"Oh really? What your favorite one?" He wanna know.

"I'm don't know, I like all of them, so you do youtube full time, if you don't mind asking?" She asked him.

"Yes, but I do little work on the little side as well, so yeah, I'm full-time youtuber."

"Oh okay, well I'm see you later."

"Hey!, I'm was wonder do you want to grab some dinner tonight, if that okay with you?" He blushing.

"Yeah, I'm will like that." You give him a kiss on a cheek, and he kisses you right back.

A/N: Another one, for all the Tyler Owens lovers out here, and I'm hope you like it . 🤟🏽🤠💋

[lemoncrushh]

Sweat

Summary: Some post-workout sex

Warnings: Smut obviously. 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1020

A/N: This was a little blurb written in 2017 inspired by some white leggings Harry had been seen wearing. Really it was just an excuse to write some smut. Written in first person, but no name given.

Harry had gone for a run. I wasn't much of a runner myself, so on days that he decided to do that, I opted for a walk on the treadmill that we kept in our sunroom. I was content with the sounds 80s and 90s heavy metal pumping through the bluetooth speakers and my water bottle in its holder as I looked out into our backyard.

Halfway through an Iron Maiden song, I thought I heard the sound of the front door slamming shut and the beep of the alarm, followed by footsteps into the kitchen as Harry's trainers squeaked across the tile.

"Is that you, baby?" I called out, mostly as acknowledgement since I knew the answer.

"Yeah!" he replied, his voice exhausted from exertion.

"I'll be done in a few," I said as I began to slow my pace.

I continued to walk through one more song before coming to a stop and stepping off the treadmill. My heart rate was still up, my face and chest glistening with sweat as I reached for my water and drank the rest in one large gulp. Then reaching for my towel, I turned off the music and headed toward the doorway that led to the den. I stopped in my tracks when I saw him.

He was sat on the large leather sofa, his head back, his arms and legs open in a spread eagle. He had stripped himself of his clothing - hoodie, t-shirt, shorts, shoes and socks, even his beanie - all except a pair of tight white leggings that he'd worn underneath his shorts. His naked yet wet chest rose and fell with each heavy breath that puffed out between his lips, and his eyes were closed.

"Holy shit," I muttered, now weak in the knees, and not from my workout.

Suddenly his eyelids fluttered open, and he saw me gawking at him.

"Hi." I wasn't sure exactly how, but he managed to make one tiny word sound so sexy, and so smug at the same time.

"That must've been some run," I remarked, my heartbeat racing again.

"Yeah."

I stepped closer to him, patting my chest with my towel.

"Do you wanna shower first, or..." I started to ask, my speech faltering when I finally got a good look at what was before me.

His leggings were drenched, nearly transparent. The muscles in his thighs fought for release from the confines of the stretchy fabric. But it was what was in between that had my mouth watering. I could see everything. The outline of his erection was obvious, and it threatened to pop out of the waistband that sat low on his hips. The line of hair beneath his belly button was wet with sweat as it trailed seductively down to meet his thick thatch, also moist with perspiration that dampened the crotch of his leggings.

Catching me staring at him, Harry held out his hand to me.

"C'mere, love," he breathed, his voice still broken and raspy.

I lifted my eyes to his, an easy smirk rising from the corner of his mouth. I accepted his hand, taking two steps closer so that I was standing between his legs. Harry sat up, releasing my hand to graze his up the back of my thigh, his other hand mimicking the first until both crept up my jogging shorts and slid back down.

"I like these," he murmured as he repeated the action with both hands.

I blinked slowly, a hard breath releasing from my lungs. I watched his face for a moment more until returning my gaze to his leggings. I didn't reckon Harry would wear pants underneath something so confining, but Jesus Christ, did they have to be white?

"You want it?" Harry suddenly asked.

My eyes wide, I stared at him incredulously. "Sorry?"

Taking my hand once more, he guided it to his crotch.

"This," he said. "You want it?"

A sound rose from my throat then, and I'm not sure if it was a moan or a protest or sound of confusion. But luckily Harry copied it, grabbing me by the waist. He pulled my shorts down so quickly I didn't have time to think. Stepping out of them, I watched as he dipped his hands in his leggings and released himself. This time I knew I moaned, as I straddled him, my knees hitting the cool leather of the couch.

Our tongues met with a vengeance, the hunger overtaking any need to fully de-clothe ourselves.

"'m so fucking hard, baby," he groaned against my mouth.

I merely nodded as I sat up, allowing him to aim his cock at my entrance. I needed no extra lubrication. I usually worked up a good one of my own when I exercised, but regardless, I was so turned on by his insatiable desire.

I rode him slowly at first, but only for a bit. He wasn't having it.

"Fuck me," he demanded, grasping at my waist like his life depended on it, his brows furrowed in deep concentration.

I nodded, biting my lip as I rode him faster. His eyelids got heavy as his mouth twitched. Finally, he threw his head back, moaning my name as I felt him hit me deeper. My own breaths quickened, my hands gripping the back of the sofa. Harry's hips lifted up to meet mine as we both cried out.

I tried to catch my breath as I rested my head on his shoulder, taking in his scent. I felt him rake his fingers up my back, and back down again, soothing me in his gentle way.

"I love you," I whispered, words we'd exchanged many times already, but for some reason I wasn't sure if it was too sweet, too real to follow such an animalistic situation.

"I love you, too," he echoed before kissing me in the soft spot below my ear.

I sat up, studying his face. He raised a brow.

"You're incredibly sexy," he declared. "And amazing."

I smiled at him, my hands grazing his chest, my fingers tracing his tattoos.

"Now, about that shower..." he smirked.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[alexfromjersey]

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 & 𝓐𝓻𝓰𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼

jenna ortega x g!poc

summary: two months go by after the premiere of Scream 6. after not speaking for a month, Jenna finds you and has some intense news to share.

warnings: mature language, angst, fluff, mentions abortion

a/n: I'M NOT SCARED OF LIONS, AND TIGERS, AND BEARS...oh and I totally forgot that the Met was May 1 sooooo pretend it was a little bit later in the month. 3.7k words

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

MAY 2023

Life has certainly skyrocketed for you after you released your vlog of the Scream 6 red carpet premiere. Everyone loved the funny moments between you and Davis and the cast appearances. The fans also noticed the interaction between you and Jenna, which blew up. You gained a lot more followers, going from 16.6k to almost 50k in a couple of weeks.

It was a tad bit overwhelming, having more eyes on you but it’s what you signed up for. You just had to adjust. 

“Chat, I got word that my special package is coming soon for the stream. I’m mad excited to show y’all this shit” You beamed. 

You sat back in your gaming chair wearing black basketball shorts and a black tank top. You had your reading glasses on because you were blind as fuck. You just finished playing the new season of Call of Duty and now you were talking to your chat for the last hour of your stream. 

Lately, you’ve noticed that you've lost focus a little bit. Ever since that night with Jenna, it replayed on your mind over and over again. The way her lips felt against yours, the sounds she let out when you pleasured her, and her beautiful body. 

You hate to admit it but you were starting to feel the actress. You’ve had your fair share of women, some that were relationships and some that were just for fun. But you never felt this way about a girl before and it kinda scared you. 

“When are you releasing new music? Whenever I can find studio time. On some real shit chat, I’ve been writing a lot more lately and I really wanna hit up the studio so anyone that can squeeze me in, DM me please” You spoke to chat. 

It didn’t help that Jenna stopped contacting you after a month and some change. You haven’t gotten any DMs, texts, or FaceTime calls in weeks. At first, you figured she was busy doing her job and she didn’t have any time to talk. A quick little text would be enough though.

But you had to remember that y’all are not together. No use of crying over spilled milk. Davis was upset when you told him.

You stupid motherfucker - again his exact words.

“I haven’t looked at my Reddit in a minute, let’s see what’s happening there,” You said and clicked to Reddit.

The first thing that popped up was a picture of you and Jenna at the restaurant. The caption said, “not Jah tryna rizz up MY WIFE!?!?”

You continued to scroll through the Reddit seeing nothing but edits of you at the premiere. There were some edits and pictures of you and Jenna with outrageous captions which made you laugh. You continued scrolling through and interacting with chat for the last fifteen minutes before getting off for the night.

Now you are bored and hungry. You threw on your slides and grabbed your accessories before leaving the apartment. You were craving a baconeggandcheese on an everything bagel from the bodega around the corner. 

( your outfit ^ )

You got to the bodega and ordered your sandwich, grabbed a soda, and some snacks for the rest of the night. About five minutes later, your sandwich was done. You bid goodbye to everyone in the store including the cat at the register before heading back towards your apartment. However, the loud sound of a horn can be heard throughout the night air. You ignored it, thinking it was not for you, and kept walking. But the horn sounded again and a heavy-tinted black SUV pulled up next to you. You were on guard now, you thought you were about to either get got or robbed. You freed your left hand just in case, you had to pull out the tool. But then the back passenger side window rolled down and a familiar face was seen.

“Yo Hollywood, word to you was about to get got. Why you roll up on me like that?” You questioned as you relaxed seeing her face. 

“We beeped the horn twice to get your attention” Jenna replied. 

“This is New York, car horns are heard every second and can mean various things. We beep and shout out the window here” You joked.

A small smile appeared on her face for a second before she turned to someone in the vehicle with her. 

“I need to talk to you…it’s important” She mumbled loud enough for me to hear. 

“Nah I ain’t getting in shit. You ghost me for a month and then roll up on me like this. How did you find me anyway?” You questioned. 

“Davis…I called him. It took a while for him to tell me where you lived but after I expressed how important it was, he gave it to me. Look, I know we haven’t spoken in a month and there’s a reason for that. If you would just get in the car, I will explain everything” Jenna answered. 

You sighed, contemplating getting in the vehicle or not. But after a small inner battle, you walked to the back driver's side and got in the SUV. Inside the vehicle was the driver, an older woman in the passenger seat, Jenna, and a boy who looked around your age. You were highly confused about what was happening.

“Where are we going?” You asked anyone.

“Somewhere we can talk privately” Jenna answered when no one did. 

You hummed in response, you looked down at her and took in her appearance. She was dressed in Adidas pants and an oversized sweater. She had shades covering her eyes which you found odd since it was nighttime. She kept picking at the sleeves of her shirt and bouncing her leg nervously. 

A clear throat made you look away from Jenna to the unknown boy next to her. He was glaring at you and clenching and unclenching his fist. You raised an eyebrow at him before you snorted. Jenna turned to you at the sound but you didn’t spare her another glance. 

You took out your sandwich and began chowing down on it. It was getting cold and you didn’t know how long this talk was gonna take.

Shortly, you all arrived at a building, it looked like an office building. You finish your meal and throw away your trash before following everyone inside the building. You all walk to the back of a conference room. 

“Okay, so what’s this all about? Cause homeboy over there look like he wanna pop off” You said and pointed to the boy sitting next to Jenna. 

“Jahaziel, I’m Nancy, Jenna’s manager and that gentleman next to her is her friend Hudson Maverick. It’s to our newfound knowledge that, you and Ms. Ortega slept together two months ago right?” Nancy inquired.

“I don’t really put my business out on who I sleep and don’t sleep with, with strangers.” You gave a fake smile to the older woman. 

Nancy sighed and ran her hand through her hair, “Jahaziel I’m -.”

“For godsakes Nancy will you just spit it out already to this girl” Hudson interjected. 

“I don’t know how to come out with something like this Hudson. I told you Jenna should be the one talking” Nancy sighed frustrated. 

You looked back and forth between the two with agitated eyes. They were wasting your time. 

“Listen, if this is about you worrying about running around tell people that we slept together, I’m not that kind of person. I don’t go around telling people who I stick my dick in no matter if they famous or not. So if this is what everything is about, you could have just emailed me” You said and went to leave the room but a soft voice stopped you.

“I’m pregnant”

You stopped in your tracks, Hudson and Nancy quieted down. It was so silent in the conference that you can hear a pin drop in the next room. You turned around to face Jenna who stood up from the table and pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red and puffy like she’s been crying for days and hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. 

“What?” You whispered.

“Can I talk to her alone please?” Jenna asked quietly. 

Nancy and Hudson looked at each other for a second before nodding. The two got up and left the room, leaving only you and Jenna. 

Jenna stepped towards you, "I'm pregnant. I found out a few days ago when my period didn’t come on. It didn’t come on last month either but I thought it was due to the stress I was under cause it’s happened before. I haven't slept or eaten properly. All I've been doing is crying and crying, wondering how I'm going to tell you. Then I got the courage to finally tell you but then Hudson found the pregnancy test and they started bombarding me with questions."

You felt your heart pick up pace and your palms started to get sweaty. You felt like the oxygen in your body was leaving, you couldn’t breathe. You stumbled into a seat and that’s when Jenna noticed your state. 

“Hey Jahaziel, look at me, breathe okay,” Jenna said and kneeled in front of you. She placed her warm hands on your cheeks and forced you to look at her but you were too busy freaking out.

“I’m a fucking dumb ass bitch, I fucking got a big ass actress pregnant. An actress I barely even know. Do you understand how fucking insane this whole thing is? I just started this YouTube shit, I still live in an overpriced shitty-ass rat-infested apartment complex in a neighborhood where I don’t know if once I step outside I’ll get shot or not. How the fuck you not freaked out right now” You ranted.

“You don’t think I’m losing my mind? Ever since I found out, I have a fucking panic attack every time I wake up. I’m twenty years old, I just booked several movies. I don’t have any time to have a child.” Jenna exclaimed.

“Well, it seems like you getting an abortion is the only option then” You argued. 

“Don’t make that decision for me” Jenna boomed. 

“What the fuck! You just fucking said that you won’t have any time to have a child. What the fuck you gonna do Jenna? Are you gonna fucking wish the baby out of you and everything will fall into place in an instant? You fucking Harry Houdini now?” You yelled, your Bronx accent getting heavy as you shouted. 

“Oh you are just fucking hilarious, huh, your a fucking comedian” Jenna growled.

“You not saying what you want to do! You say you don’t have time for a child then when I say abortion is the only option, you fucking lash out at me.” You roared. 

“Because I don’t want to get an abortion, I want to keep the baby!” Jenna belted. You looked at her face properly now and saw tears were now falling freely down her face. You closed your eyes and take a deep breath in, holding it for ten seconds, before releasing it. You repeated this process a couple of times before you felt yourself calm down. It was a technique the Marines taught you while you were in service, it came in handy most times. 

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Being a mom was something I knew I wanted to experience. Having a little mini-me running around with my and my partner’s personality. The experience came a lot earlier than I expected and not the ideal way but I have the chance and I’m not passing it despite what I said because I’ll figure it out. I always figure it out” Jenna confessed. 

She then pulled out a folded Manila envelope and slid it toward you. 

“So if you don’t want anything to do with me and the baby, you can sign your rights away. Nancy’s number is on that business card and she’ll come pick up the papers in the morning” Jenna continued. 

She then got up and walked out of the room.

“Jenna” You called out but she was long gone out of the room with her people following her. 

You sighed and rubbed your hands down your face, extremely stressed out. 

Honestly, you didn’t know what you wanted to do. You never thought about being a parent, especially after the way your father up and left you, your Mom, and your older brother years ago. You never gave parenthood a thought. You needed a second opinion and a blunt.

🤰🏻🩵

It was now 2 in the morning, you sat on your fire escape looking down at the streets with the papers in your hand. You just finished your second blunt of the night to help with the racing thoughts but it only increased it. You kept staring at the signature on the paper, wanting to write your name but not wanting to also. 

“You stress anymore, you gon’ pop a blood vessel” Davis said as he stepped out onto your fire escape. 

Once you found a way back home, you immediately called Davis and told him everything that happened. He told you as soon as he finished with his project, he was rushing over. 

“I feel like I’m about to have an aneurysm,” You said. 

“I would be too if I was in your position. This shit is a mess” Davis stated and took the papers from your clenched hand. He looked over it and exhaled deeply. “So you sign this and all your rights are taken away. No seeing the baby. Nothing?”

“Nothing. I won’t have a say in anything, can’t see them. I’ll literally just be the sperm donor” You said. 

“Is that what you really want? To be known as the sperm donor. You realize that she’s a mega actress and once the news gets out, it ain’t gon’ be long til people figure who the other parent is” Davis stated. 

“I don’t know what I fucking want. A part of me is ecstatic that I have a child on the way.” You exclaimed. 

“What about the other part?” Davis questioned.

You sat in the chair with cloudy eyes. Once Davis got a look at your expression, he immediately realized what this was all about. 

“Your father. You don’t want to end up like him” Davis nodded. 

“It’s been six years and that motherfucker still finds a way to haunt me. It’s pathetic” You scoffed. 

“No, it's human. Jah, he is your father-”

“Was. That bitch ass motherfucker ain’t shit to me now” You seethed. 

Davis sighed, “Either way, who said you was gonna end up like him. You plan on signing those papers and ditching your child? That ain’t you.”

You looked down at your hands, finding them more interesting. 

“Look, all those feelings you feeling right now…is that how you want your child to feel about you when they grow up. That you ain’t nothing but a bitch ass motherfucker?” Davis questioned. 

You took in your best friend’s words. “Look I know this whole situation is unconventional but you have to own up to it. You and I both know for a fact that you don’t want to sign these papers. You want to be in your child’s life. So stop being a fucking idiot, rip up those papers, and apologize to Jenna.”

Suddenly, the alarm on Davis’ phone starts to blare. You checked the time and saw that it was almost 3 o’clock now. 

“I have to get some rest for tomorrow. But on some real shit Jah, really think about what you want” Davis added before disappearing inside your apartment. 

Once again, you were left alone on the fire escape with nothing but your thoughts and the occasional crackhead shouts. You looked down at the papers again before shoving them back into the envelope and heading inside for the night.

🤰🏻🩵

The next morning, you were up and ready. You only got like an hour of sleep but that hour of sleep gave you a mindset. You texted the number on the business card and finesse your way to getting information about where Jenna was going to be today. She had a fitting for her Met Gala dress at the moment at a studio Downtown, so that’s where you were. You parked your car and paid the meter before heading inside the studio where she would be.

(your outfit for today ^ )

You texted the number that you were downstairs with the papers. After waiting for about ten minutes, you expected to see Nancy but Hudson came downstairs. 

“Jahazel or whatever you name is…” Hudson greeted with no emotion. He held his hand out, waiting for the papers but you never put them in his hands.

“Firstly it’s Jahaziel and secondly, I know I’m probably the last person she wants to see right now and I don’t want to mess up anything she’s doing right now. But can I talk to her please?” You pleaded.

“Absolutely not. Not after what you said to her yesterday, I’m not letting a hoodlum like you step near her again. You ruined enough for her already” Hudson hissed. 

“Who you calling a hoodlum skinny Fred Jones” You questioned offended. Hudson attempted to grab the papers from your hand but you moved them away. The move made his whole face start to turn red from anger. 

“Give me the papers before I call the cops on you” Hudson threatened.

“Call the fucking cops pussy” You snapped and stepped towards him. Before either of you can lay a hand on one another, a brolic man stepped in between y’all. You recognized that it was Big L and he was pulling you away from Hudson while another security guard stood next to him.

“I need you to calm down” Big L’s rough voice ordered. 

“Alright, alright I’m calm” You grumbled and pulled your arm from him.

“Listen, meet in the back alley in ten minutes” Big L instructed in a tone that only you and him can hear.

“Big L…my man you attractive and all but I don’t swing that way” You joked.

Big L rolled his eyes, “I’ll take you to see Jenna.”

“Oh, that makes more sense. I thought you were about to suggest something to me” You lightly chuckled. 

Big L just looked at you with a neutral expression before walking away toward Hudson.

“Damn not even a little giggle?” You pouted as you left the building. 

You waited in your car for ten minutes before going into the back alley like Big L said. He was waiting for you at the door and motioned for you to speed up. He then took you through various rooms and floors. By the 10th floor, your legs were jelly.

“Aye yo, Black Panther why didn’t we take the elevators? I’m not that fit like you. I’m skinny fit I was born with abs I didn’t work for these like you did” You complained out of breath.

“Because Hudson told every guard in the building to have you arrested for trespassing if they spot you” Big L answered.

“Is it really that serious though, you would think I be fucking aggressively stalking Jenna” You huffed and walked up another flight of stairs.

“Hudson has always been overprotective of Jenna, ever since he started working for her last year” Big L commented.

“Overprotective? For what reason?” You asked.

“Don’t know. I don’t get paid to ask unnecessary questions” Big L replied. 

You hummed in response and walked up another two flights of stairs before Big L opened the door to the 13th floor. Big L checked to make sure no guard was in the vicinity before he motioned you to follow him. You felt like you were on a James Bond stealth mission, it was exciting. He took you to the last door on the floor before knocking. 

“Ms. Ortega, Nancy will like to come in” Big L said.

“Okay, send her in” Jenna spoke after a moment. 

That was your queue to enter the room. You closed the door behind me and took in that you were in an open floor room with racks of clothes against the windows. It smelt expensive as fuck in the room.

“What are you doing here?” Jenna’s voice brought you back to reality. She was standing in front of you with a familiar flannel on. It was buttoned to cover her chest area but unbuttoned around her stomach area. Through a tiny gap, you can see her belly protruding a little.

“I…uh wanted to talk to you” You spoke. 

Jenna scoffed, “I think you spoke enough last night.” She walked away from you and into a different room.

“Wait, look I apologize for the way I reacted last night. It’s sincere too cause people from New York don’t apologize” You stated. 

“If you came here to be a comedian, you can go Jahaziel” Jenna grumbled. 

You sighed, you have to be serious. You can see that she’s stressed and not in the mood for jokes so you had to be serious. You walked up behind her and grabbed her shoulders. At first, she shrugged you off but you placed your hands there again and more firm. You turned her around to face you.

“Real shit, I’m sorry Jenna. For everything last night, you didn’t deserve me talking to you like that. Truth be told, I was mad scared when you told me that you are pregnant. My father up and left my family when I was 15 and it left some deep wounds in me. When I was younger I aspired to grow up, get married, have a family, and have a love like my Ma and Father did but then he left without saying a word and it tainted that aspiration. I got scared because I didn’t want to be like him” You explained to the shorter girl. 

“You could have told me that. I would've understood completely” Jenna mumbled.

“I know and I should’ve but I’m not really good at explaining my feelings.” You responded. 

Jenna glanced at the envelope in your hand, “I’m guessing you made your decision.”

“Yeah, I did” You replied and ripped the envelope in half. Jenna gave you a surprised look. “Look, me and you made this baby together even though we ain’t in a relationship…yet. I don’t want to be like my father. I also don’t want you to do this by yourself. Our baby, our responsibility. I’m with you to the end Hollywood” You smiled and stuck your hand out.

She looked down and chuckled before shaking your hand. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes and never stopped. The room felt hotter and your hand was still holding hers. Suddenly, Jenna took your hand and placed it on her small belly. 

“Til the end NYC” Jenna smiled.

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Cunnilingus, explicit sex, choking, rough sex, office sex, fingering, Sato/ Sugu hinted at, Satoru is a little shit in this chapter lol, angry sex, dirty talk, fr Satoru never shuts tf up but he fks so good.

♡ ♡ Summary ��� ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here! (Gojo's POV in itallics)

Chapter 8 - Masterlist

Chapter 9

You knock on Gojo’s office door at around noon the next day, smoothing down your black business skirt, and Gojo shouts ‘come on in’. You turn open the brass knob, and his office is bright and airy. Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo have their arms over each other's shoulders and are laughing about something when you walk in. You smile at the two friends, shutting the door behind you.

“Hit those blinds.” Gojo said casually, and you pushed the button then, curiously licking your lower lip. “Come here, pretty.”

You flush as you look at Suguru, who simply is smiling with his eyes lidded, as if he already knew more than he should. “It’s okay, I already knew you all would be dating once I saw you at that charity ball.”

“We… are? Dating?” You walk a little closer, studying Gojo, who has his eyes raking up and down your body, vividly making you recall last night.

“What else could ‘you’re mine’ mean silly girl?” He rolled his eyes behind those shades that hung low over a perfect nose, holding out two fingers and calling you over. “She’s book smart but clueless.”

“Satoru, you’re just a whole idiot though.” Suguru said, and you grinned, making Gojo sigh and swipe a hand through his silky white hair.

“You two like each other an awful lot. Hmm. Maybe I’m getting jealous.” He pulled you against him, then, and you grew nervous.

“Oh god, what’re you up to?” You demanded, trying to pull your arm out of his grip. His grin was wide, and he raised brows at Suguru, who simply sat down in Gojo’s chair, legs wide, smirking at you in a way you had never seen. “Oh shit, and what are you up to?”

“Just going along with his dumb idea really. It gives me a break from work.” Geto took your other hand, and you flushed, as each of them now held you, looking at both of them wildly.

“Have you two lost your minds? Need me to leave so you all can kiss?” You earned a laugh from Geto but Gojo just glared at you like a maniac, pressing forward, stepping closer and closer until you fell back, right on to Suguru’s lap.

“Suguru thinks you’re really pretty, you know.

Do you think he’s hot? I wonder…” Gojo was caressing your jaw, bent low, one hand on the chair above you and Geto. You scowl up at him, and he seems to love it.

“You’re such a dick. What game are you up to?”

“It could be a fun one.” Gojo pulled out your bun, letting your hair fall over your face, and then he was easing off your blazer, leaving you in your blouse and skirt, which he popped a button or two off.

You smack at his hands. “This isn’t a peep show, dickhead.”

“I love when you’re a bitch to me, oof. Suguru, how pretty does she look like this?” He turned your body, to where you now sat on one of his hard thighs, facing him a bit, and Geto gave you a look far too sensual, dark brown eyes glinting with the same deviance Gojo had.

“Very, very pretty.” He said, and you cover your face now, mortified, and Geto and Gojo were snickering as they tortured you.

“Oh God. Satoru, I’m not this freaky, I’m going to have to disappoint you.” Gojo raised a brow as you peered back up at him.

“Oh no?”

“No.” You squirm, and then pause yourself, cursing, because even though you loved Gojo, you did have a vagina, and the thoughts raging in your brain about these two were fucking obscene. You literally wanted to fall in a hole.

You felt the pressure of Suguru’s big hand on your thigh as you sat on his lap, mortified as Gojo teased you, knowing Geto could likely feel your heat as you struggled to stay still made everything a million times more embarrassing. Gojo’s smirk was cruel, leaning forward, tilting up your chin to make you meet his eyes, glittering and wild, full of desire now.

“Oh sweetheart, you want this, don’t you? Such a little slut you’re becoming, and so quickly.” He leaned forward, pressing you further against Suguru, and you trembled, gritting your teeth.

“I do not want two men… at once.” You bit out, and Gojo hummed, running long fingers down your throat.

“No fantasies of this? Of us?” You shook your head quickly. “Hmm, do you believe her, Suguru?”

“Ahem…” He shifted a bit under you with a little grab on the curve of your waist, leaning over to peek at your red face. “Oh, no, she’s thought of it. Or she’s thinking of it now.”

“No! You’re supposed to be my friend.” You scowl down at Suguru, who is enjoying the torture as much as Gojo, abashed grin on handsome features.

“I’ve shared a lot of women with him.” Gojo wrapped his arms around you both, and you felt so overheated you wanted to strip, blood pressure rising. Gojo kissed your cheek gently, then went to kiss Suguru on the cheek with a loud smack sound, and he grimaced, wiping it off, making Gojo throw back his head with a laugh. “Haven’t we, buddy?”

“When we were younger, we did.” He admitted, and you looked at them both with shock then. “Much younger.”

“Yep then you got so boring .” Gojo rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, and Suguru laughed, shaking you slightly, making the situation between your thighs a million times worse.

“No, you just started fucking with a lot of questionable women.”

“True. Hmm, but you’d fuck her, wouldn’t you?”

“Satoru!” You shouted, but he just grinned, sliding down his dark blue shades fully, pressing you against his friend, his hard chest against your breasts as Suguru’s was against your back.

“She is really beautiful.” Suguru said softly, caressing your face, and you squealed then, jumping up.

“Oh my god! What… you… you two should just date, assholes!”

You scowled at their laughter, and Gojo was pushing you back again, but you refused to sit, instead Suguru stood, and you were sandwiched between the two men, well over six foot tall, and you were so short and… your nipples were hard, and your body was on fire. Gojo’s eyes darted to your breasts as if he could see through your bra and blouse.

You needed to get out of there.

“You wouldn’t want us both, hmm?” Gojo whispered, thumbs flicking over the peaks of your breasts, making you want to cry out. You blinked rapidly, mouth sputtering. “Words, baby girl. Use them.”

“Who wouldn’t fantasize about this? Anyone with a vagina would. Shit, even men would, stupid!” You smacked at Gojo’s chest as he and Suguru laughed.

“Mmm, I knew it! I won’t ever share you, though.” He yanked you to him, kissing you boldly in front of Suguru, who seemed rather unfazed.

“Oh no, I’m rather heartbroken by this.” He teased, as you took a breath, shoving Gojo hard then, and pointing a finger at Suguru.

“What games are you two trying? Little shitheads.”

Gojo pulled you back against him, even as you wiggled. “I wanted to know what level of freak you are deep in there. It was curiosity.”

“Well, I wouldn’t do it!”

“Really… your body says something else.” He taunted you, and Suguru laughed at you two, coming to pat your shoulder.

“He really is a fucking idiot.” He kissed your cheek and winked at you then, and you couldn’t hide your embarrassment.

“I’m mad at you!” You declared half heartedly.

“I’m sorry I played along with him, princess. I think he’s just using this as freaky foreplay though.”

“Oh fuck yes I am.” Gojo snatched you by your waist, and you glared. “Lock my office, would you Suguru?”

“No! I’m not playing your games, psycho, I’ll go back to work.” You went to move but Gojo had his fingertips under your skirt so fast your head spun.

“Hmm… this was actually fun, and weird.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as you and Gojo stood there, scowling at each other. “Don’t be too loud, you two crazy kids.”

Suguru left then, laughing as the door shut and locked behind him, and then you smacked Gojo hard in the face, making him laugh like a psycho, gripping your wrist tightly. “You embarrassed the shit out of me, jerk!”

“You obviously liked that idea. A lot.” He teased in his sing-song voice, sliding a finger against your slick folds with his free hand. You shiver at the touch as desire starts pouring out of you at an embarrassing pace, his fingers pulled back, glistening.

“I wouldn’t fuck anyone else, with you or without. Stupid. Ugh.” You felt a couple tears escape, gasping at how bad you ached for him.

“Good, because I won’t ever share you.” He whispered darkly, grip and look possessive, and you cried out when he slid your skirt up then, flipping you around, bending you over the desk and leaning against you.

“You’re so annoying. Why do I fucking put up with you? I-ah!” His fingers shoved inside you, crooking up just so, his other hand yanking you by your hair.

“Because I do this to you.” He whispered, shoving them in deep, spreading them, stretching you out, sending waves of pleasure that drove you fucking crazy, you were so wet now you were slippery. “You’re fucking soaked. You liked that fantasy, didn’t you? I’ll keep it between us, sweetheart, don't worry.”

His whisper was fucking devious, taunting you, and God if it didn’t succeed, his words as dangerous as his fingers. You turned your head, loosening his grip, licking your lips as you struggled to speak. “I only want you, Satoru.” His eyes softened. “But yes, of course that thought is fucking hot, being used by…”

“Oh no, continue, please, little slut.” He yanked harder on your hair, and you arched your ass in pleasure, wanting more of his fingers in you. “It’s all a fantasy, anyway, you’d want us to use you… how…”

“Don’t do this. You know I’m not very… exper-ah fuck!” You were shaking as you started cumming all over his fingers then, and he slid his hand off your hair, cupping your face.

“I could eat this pussy while you’re bent over this desk, you sucking his dick on the other side.”

“Mnh, Satoru… I… don’t…” He laughed, kissing you gently then, pausing. “Just fantasy talk? Promise?”

“Just fantasy talk. You’re mine . I just really like when you open up to these desires deep in there.” He peppered little kisses down your neck, you gasp when he puts two fingers in your mouth now, and leans down, against your ear. “Hmm. Maybe sucking my cock while he licks you here?” Gojo runs his fingers down to your aching bundle of nerves, sliding in a circle and making you moan, legs shaking as you sucked on his fingers. “Oooh, you liked that one.”

He had total control of you, now, his fingers and hand holding your jaw, then he let you go, pushing you forward until your breasts were against the cool wood of his desk, bending down behind you then. All you could do was moan and mumble incoherently.

“Maybe you’d want us both to lick you here.” He slid his tongue up your slit, and you cried out, wet and hot against where you ached, making you shove your hand on your mouth to quiet it. “Take turns?”

“I’m not… not saying it…”

“Who’d fuck you first, little brat?” His words were hot on your clit, making it more sensitive, and your legs shake as you grow wetter, his hands grabbing your ass hard.

“Satoru…” He laughed then when you tensed as he bit your clit, shocking you. “I don’t think... I-”

He was spreading the lips of your cunt wide, sliding a tongue in, fucking you with it. You fall apart, leaning forward on the desk, screaming pleasure into your palm. “I asked who would fuck you first?”

He was standing now, hand sliding up your ass cheek, laughing softly as your knees nearly buckled. He smacked you hard, when you didn’t answer, making your skin sting. “You! You would fuck me first.” Your words were just a whine.

He paused, and then he was thrusting his hardness in your tight cunt, filling you to the hilt, so deep in this position you could hardly stay still, gripping the desk for stability. “Me first, huh? Good choice, my love. So… would you suck his cock while I did this? While I fuck you from behind?”

You are letting out breathy moans, and his fingers are back to your mouth, teasing your lower lip as your mind runs wild with the images Gojo painted. “Yes, yes I’d suck him while you fuck me.”

Gojo groaned loudly then, yanking you against him to fuck harder, deeper, bending your body backwards by taking your two arms and putting them behind you, pulling you harder on him. “Would you now? Is that where your mind went when you were on his fucking lap?”

“Mnh. Unh. No!”

“No? What were you thinking.”

It was hard to speak, and he slowed his thrusts, still hitting so fucking deep they hurt, but shooting pleasure and pain up through your whole body, making you shake as you gasp for breath. “I… was thinking of you both…”

“Both what?”

“Fuck! Each sucking on my breasts…” Your words were a whisper, and Gojo had you turned around, towards him now, yanking you against him on the desk, those blue eyes as wild as they’d been when he pushed cum in you last night.

“Oh yeah? Like this?” He slid open your top, and licked a nipple, coming out above your lacy bra. You cried out, and his cock was back in you, your legs spread wide around his narrow hips, each stroke slow and deliberate, pulling more and more wetness from you. “Then what went through that dirty fucking mind?”

He was standing, pushing you to lay down, spreading your legs even wider and pressing them up, stretching and filling you beyond your means, you were so close to cumming, but he paused, smirking. “Satoru…”

“Tell me what else and I’ll let you cum.”

“Evil!” You exhaled, infuriated, aching everywhere, head back on the desk as he just stayed still. “Then you’d each touch my thighs.” He slid his fingertips up them, as you spoke, fucking into you once more, making you see stars. “And both of you could kiss down either side of my n-neck… then…”

“Keep going.” His white teeth bit his lower lip as he stroked inside you, slowly filling you more with each one, making thoughts fly away.

Fuck, it was hard to think or speak. “Then you'd finger me and he'd kiss me... I… not as w-wild as you. But.”

“No, it’s hot. It’s you. ” He growled, hand on your throat now, squeezing gently. “You’re all mine, but I like this side of you. I’ll let you think about that, princess, about us taking turns in this perfect pussy.”

He choked you harder, and finally started fucking you, each hit making you nearly jump with the force, head fuzzy, mind floating into the unknown abyss. Gojo grinned above you, so handsome, those long lashes lidded over his eyes, easing his big hand off your throat to pull out of you, making you miss his cock, just to twist you back around, shoving in and filling you up from behind. 

“This pretty cunt is mine though. Mine. Say it.” He demanded, and he was fucking you hard, your tits bouncing against the desk, popping out of your bra, a deep ache starting to build in your stomach, and you struggle not to collapse, not to run damn near, from how much you felt, how much he consumed you.

“Only yours. Only you.” You whispered the words like a mantra with each stroke inside you, against your walls, and then he was tensing, strong hands so tight on your hips while that cock wrecked you that delicate skin would be bruised later. “You… and you're … mine. Mine .”

“Yes, I’m yours. Yours . Fuck.” He grunted then, and you could feel his entire body tense, tilting your head then and kissing you. “Want me to paint these insides, pretty little brat?” You nod fervently, and then his brows drew together, pretty lips parted, watching your ass curve from behind as his thrusts slowed.

“Only you, Satoru.” It was barely a murmur, but he heard it.

He started to come, then, hot and thick streams against you so deep, pulsing and making your tight ring of muscles throb in response. You were coming on him, and his lips drank your screams, as he held your face at an angle, kisses all sloppy, a trail of saliva between you. He held you on his length, pressing, and you felt everything come apart.

“Me. Only. Me.” His brow was sweating, his arms trembling, and then he was kissing you as you all came down from your orgasms, holding you, still inside of you, so connected. “Too much play there, baby girl?” He’d switched from devil Gojo to caring Gojo.

You sigh, shaking your head with a blush. “It was hot as fuck, but please, don’t do that in front of Suguru ever again!”

“I promise.” He eases out of you, and you both hiss at the disconnect, his hands turn your body to him, tilting your chin up. “I can be too much huh?”

“Way too fucking much.”

“I love when you fall apart, lose it, more and more. For me.” His eyes studied you, intense, bright, you felt your breasts rise with each breath. “I’m kind of obsessed with you.”

You blinked a bit. “You are?”

He stayed serious. “You’re all I can think of.”

You shivered, sighing, eyes closing, your body and mind reeling from his words, from his being. “Yeah, me too.”

You two stare at each other when your eyes flutter back open, in the quiet little office, your breaths the only sound aside from the ambient noise of workers talking and typing outside. Gojo was cupping your face, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world.

“I’m kind of fucking falling.” His words startle you, making you literally swoon, words you would never expect, thumbs sliding against your cheekbones, where your tears of pleasure and frustration had trickled down. You pull him against you, feeling your body tremble, gripping at his jacket, something desperate and animalistic in both of your eyes, then, your matched his craziness.

“Yeah well… I kind of already did fall.”

You tense, eyes slamming shut, as if waiting for him to laugh at you, to ignore you, to get scared. But he sighed softly, saying your name, asking you to open your eyes. You meet his gaze, and he’s still serious, holding your face between his hands, eyes flickering as they study you.

“We’re in fucking deep then, huh?” He mumbled, and you nodded.

“Deep.”

It was so intense, everything, you were mere words away from saying you loved this dickhead.

Fuck.

“How couldn’t you fall for me though? I’m so charming and perfect after all. And my dick of course.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re so wrong for making him do that, by the way!” You shove at his hard chest, he grinned then at you.

“Oh sweetheart, no, he needed no urging. He really does think you’re beautiful, and who could blame him? Look at you.” He kissed your forehead, and laughed as you overheated again. “You probably would’ve wanted to if it were Nanami.”

“No! Not even. You’ll never let that go.” 

“Probably not. Nor this one. You wanna fuck half the office, dear god! Probably even Shoko. Fucking scandalous!”

You're smirking then. “She is very pretty.”

You two laugh together, kissing, hands tangling in each other's hair, and you kind of hate him, but you kind of love… 

Fuck.

“Kiyotaka even?”

“Oh god.”

“He thinks you’re pretty, too.”

“He’s an angel that you don’t deserve.”

“I don’t deserve you.” There was so much emotion, husky in his voice, and you could have stayed there forever.

“That’s not true.” Long fingers caress your hair, smiling just a little sad, and in those moments you realize there is a lot more to him. More you needed to know about this man.

“Let’s clean you up, pretty, come on.”

He leads you to the little bathroom in his office, all blues and golds too, sitting you up on the sink as he gets a little washcloth. He gently cleans between your thighs, making you hiss a bit at how sore you are, tossing that one and peeking at you with concern, hands gentle on your thighs.

“Too rough earlier?” He frowns as he speaks, and you shake your head. “You sure, I kinda railed the fuck out of you.”

“I can handle it.” You watch him laugh, shaking his head, and then he has a little cotton pad, cleaning under your eyes. You enjoy it so much, his tender side, his care.

“You cried a little, some mascara is smudged here.” He swiped a little more, and you studied his strong jaw and pretty lips, as he concentrated on you.

He then pulled out a brush, and he started combing out your hair, pulling you down and turning you away from him. He had the ponytail he’d taken out of your hair earlier on his wrist still, and then he was putting your hair back in your bun from this morning. He was meticulous as you watched you both in the mirror, his eyes focused as he had two bobby pins in between his teeth.

“I really love this. Too much maybe.” You say, and his eyes catch yours in the mirror as he finishes, hugging you against him, bending low, kissing your cheek, two arms around you snug.

“I also love to take care of you. Especially after I make you into such a mess , you know. The least I could do.” He purred those words, and you watched your rosy cheeks, your glittering eyes in the mirror. You could hardly stand anymore if not for his support. “I don’t want to let you go.” He sighed, snuggling against you, his face so pretty it damn near made you forgive anything.

“I don’t want you to.” You shut your eyes, sighing. “But you do pay me to work you know.”

“Mmm… you put in plenty of work just now.” He teased, and then you two eased apart, and you struggled to get your bearings.

“Please, not again though, seriously. It was mean.” He pouted, hands in his pockets, nodding.

“I promise.”

“Okay, let me go.” You pop a kiss, heading towards the office door, and then he yanks at your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “Hmm?”

“I need a better kiss than that.” His lips descended, sweet, soft, licking and nipping your lower lip, making you moan soft into his mouth, breath intermingling, until he eased off a bit, hands caressing your cheeks.

“Satoru…”

“Now you can go back.” He winked, and you took a breath, shaky, turning. “Try not to walk like a deer though. They’ll know.”

You glare back at his smirking face, and flip him off. “Gonna go flirt with Suguru now.”

A glare. “Better not!”

“Maybe he likes deer!”

Gojo was aghast as you walked out, shutting the door and laughing into your hand, luckily everyone was rather busy. You struggled to walk normally, fearing looking like some deer now,  when you went back to your desk, sitting in your seat on aching thighs. Your phone is blinging. You wiggle a bit, and see Gojo’s text, peeking at you through his open blinds now.

Satoru: You better not. You're mine. My beautiful deer.

Yeah, you did erase dick boss as his name finally. But he kinda still was a dick. You look at him, in his fancy fucking black suit in his office, and feel his desire easing out of you. You bite your lip, texting him back.

You: Bambi isn’t a compliment.

Satoru: Why not? He’s adorable.

You giggle, rolling your eyes, then start to feel bold, eyeing him as he sits back in his chair, focused on the phone now.

You: Your cum is sliding out of me.

He tenses, and you grin at the reaction, and that gaze hits you hard even though it’s so far you couldn’t really see his eyes. You know they’re going wild though, and it thrills you to fuck with him after the wild shit he’d pulled this afternoon.

Satoru: Fuck… should I push it back in?

You feel your aching cunt throb, and you lean back in your chair, tilting your head back for a moment.

You: At my desk?!?

Satoru: I’ll do it, brat.

You: Fuck off.

You catch his grin, and blink a bit, trying to focus on the matter at hand, whatever it was you were even doing.

Oh, spreadsheets!

Satoru: You’re coming home with me for the speech writing yeah?

God you’ll never get work done at this rate.

You: I can but I need to grab some clothes to get comfy.

Satoru: I’ll have Kiyotaka buy some to keep at my place.

You feel your stomach do somersaults, your heart falter, at Gojo so casually suggesting you have clothes at his house now.

You: You don’t have to buy any. I can bring some.

Satoru: I like to buy you clothes.

You feel yourself heating back up.

Satoru: I can see that blush from here.

You: Shut it. I have to work!

Satoru: I’m picking out clothes now

You: Okay. Thank you! Now let me get to work, my boss is kinda a dick if I don’t, you know.

Satoru: Bitch.

You’re smiling at your phone when Suguru comes up to your desk, and your blush is back in full force, when he hands you a cup of coffee with a puppy dog eye look that could rival Gojo’s. You manage a glare, sitting the phone down and picking up the cup of coffee.

“Peace offering?” He held his hands up. You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Better be yummy.” You take a sip, moaning as the french roast hits your tongue, strong how you like it.

“It’s my special stash and everything!”

“Ooh, it is good. Ugh. Forgiven maybe.”

He turned and peered at Gojo, who was grinning, now standing at his doorway, like some sadistic psycho. “Are you sure about this?” Suguru asked, and you giggled, shaking your head.

“I think I had some brain injury when I fell off his boat.” You both laugh, and Gojo starts to pout like a sad little boy, hands in his pockets.

Suguru bends over, and gently fixes your collar, far too close, damn near giving you flashes of the naughty things you and Gojo had said as he’d fucked you on that desk. God you couldn’t bear to look at Suguru now!

“There. It had popped up.” He smoothed it with a wink and a grin, and you felt Gojo’s anger through Geto’s big ass body.

“You two are the worst!” Your words are a hiss.

“Did you enjoy me being the subject?” You got up and shoved him then, and so did Gojo, Shoko and Nanami and the other workers just shaking their heads at you three as if this was normal.

“Fuck off Suguru! Not besties anymore!”

“My heart!” He held his chest as if wounded. “I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, I promise!”

“Better be sushi.” You tease him, and he bows as if he’s some medieval knight, deep at the waist.

“I shall! Let me know if you all require my services again.” He runs off leaving you mortified, and you are turning away as Gojo yanks you against him in front of everyone. Oohs and ahhs are in the office now, and you want to fall into a hole the third time this morning, truly.

“Ahem. We’re dating!” Gojo announces, throwing a peace sign and a grin, and everyone just kind of shrugs, mumbling that they already knew, with only a couple of people surprised by the news.

“Satoru…” You whisper as Gojo and you stand there, and he kisses your cheek, then.

“Mine.” He then runs off to his office, leaving you to deal with this wreck of a day he’d caused.

Shoko comes up with a hug, pulling you against her. “I’m so happy for you, even if he’s an idiot.”

You smile, snuggling against her. “It’s very new. I don’t know how serious he is yet…”

“Oh, he’s very serious. I’ve known him forever.” Her words put you at ease, your shoulders falling just a bit, less tense. “You just come to me if you need me to smack him around okay?”

You grin. “I’ll probably take you up on that.”

“Gojo, really?” Nanami said, and you pulled away from Shoko with a little sigh, nodding. “Well shit.”

“We had an office bet you’d end up with Nanami.” Shoko admitted, and you blinked.

“A bet?”

“We have dating bets in the office all the time. I had you for Nanami even. Shit. I owe Suguru money now.” Shoko rolled her eyes. “I need a smoke break.” She kissed your cheek and darted off.

“Nanami…” You started, and he smirked, all handsome in his suit.

“I like you two together. I think he makes you a little more fun. Loosen up. Maybe you can pull his dumb ass together a bit too. You know two serious people would kinda be shit.”

You touch his shoulder. “You’re not wrong. Would we have been really fucking boring?”

“We would have been the worst. All right, I'm having lunch.” He patted your back playfully, and you were left back mostly alone, sitting on top of your desk, crossing your legs.

Maybe you should rethink being with such a devious little shithead? You had to wonder what you were thinking, but for the first time, you didn’t think at all though, you just lived in the moment, you just did what you wanted, and something in that was freeing, powerful. No... You’re in too deep with him now, and you know you need to really sort your feelings, which were so so many.

You are already anticipating tonight.

Chapter 10

Chap on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141913159