#how hiccups turned smutty

[brainddeadd]

My request is Chan coming home to find his plus size s/o being insecure to wear a dress because it shows everything? I hope this request is okay I've been feeling abit....insecurity

Hi!!

I'm honoured you trust me to do this request for you. You didn't specify if you wanted smut or not, so I made it sugesstive and not smutty - I felt like this was more in tune with the vibes that Chan gives me in terms of the type of partner he'd be.

I am sorry to hear you are feeling insecure. Please know that no matter your size, you are beautiful.

So this is my first request, and I really hope I do it justice.

bang chan x plus sized!reader (requested)

angst, fluff, suggestive

Chan arrived at your apartment and let himself in, expecting to find you doing the finishing touches to your outfit for date night (which he didn't think you needed - you could wear a bin bag and he'd be in awe of you). Instead, he's greeted by the sound of you crying. Not a little whimper or a small noise, no, you were sobbing. He followed the sound, rushing to your room and finding you sitting on the floor, only in your bra and underwear, three dresses discarded on the bed and some more crumpled on the floor.

"Baby, what's happened?" He rushed over to you, dropping everything from his hands and kneeling before you, eyes scanning over your body for signs of physical injury. "Baby, where does it hurt?"

You pushed at his hands, trying to get him away from you, chest heaving, unable to suck in enough air to verbalise what's wrong.

"No no pretty." He gently moved your hands to the side and picked you up from the floor, hands cradling you gently, before depositing you on the bed. "Talk to me."

The words came out in incoherent babbles, hiccups taking over the spaces words were supposed to be, but he managed to get some words.

Insecure. Dress. Ugly. Fat.

And his face fell. He knew instantly what you were referring to. He knew all about your insecurities and you knew his.

"Y/N." His voice was so stern you looked up in shock, face falling and sobbing stopping for a second before your featured crumpled again, this time, because you feared you'd upset him.

"Baby, look at me."

You shake your head and go to stand up, which he helps you do.

"You can walk away, but I'm going with you." He's standing behind you, letting you move as you need, knowing better than to stop you.

You step out of range of his body heat. Take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." He goes to speak but you turn to face him and he shuts up instantly. "I'm sorry I'm crying. I know we’ve spoken about this. I know we have. But, today was a bad day. None of my dresses fit, none of my skirts fit, jeans aren't good enough for our first date in weeks-"

He shuts you up by pulling you into a hug.

"Don’t you ever apologise to me for being insecure again." He's whispering, but you can hear the edge in his voice. "I love you. And I understand."

You step back and force smile at him, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"Let me fix my-"

"No." You look at him in confusion. "If you think we're going out in public while you feel insecure and before I get to tell you how much I love you, you're insane."

"But-"

"No buts." He moves you to the edge of the bed and pushes gently. "Sit."

You don't have much choice but to comply. He kneels in front of you.

"I wrote Youtiful for you." You've never seen this look in Chan's eyes before. "You are perfect in my eyes. You are one of a kind. You are a miracle. My miracle."

You're crying again, but this time it's from the love overwhelming you.

Chan leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

“You’re so pretty,” Chan kisses your cheek and your forehead. "I think you're pretty in your dresses and with your makeup on, and I think you're gorgeous when you're wearing ratty sweats, my hoodie, barefaced and your hair wild."

He moves your hair to the side and kisses your neck.

"I think you're pretty when you cry, although I much prefer it when you cry for.. other reasons." He smirks at the way your breath hitches.

"I think you're gorgeous when you're sitting on top of me," he moves so you're lying flat and he's hovering over you. "But you know when you're most gorgeous to me?"

"When?" You're breathless and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

"When you cum." He moves his hand to your clothed pussy. "Because you give yourself over to me completely. You let yourself go. You look so free, confident, sexy and nothing, nothing, is better than my baby looking and feeling good."

He applies some pressure to your clit through your underwear and you gasp.

"Chan-" He pulls his hand away and you whine.

"Now, baby, listen to me." You look up at him, knowing he's serious. "I'm not going to fuck you."

You're unable to contain the whine the leaves your chest.

"Shh, shh, baby, listen," he's smiling at you softly. "I'm going to get you dressed in something comfy, then I'm going to get us some food delivered, we're going to eat crappy food, watch bad tv and then, after that, if you want to, I'll make love to you."

You're pouting, even if that does sound nice, incredible even.

"I know baby, but you're vulnerable right now, and I'm not going to do anything until you have a clear head, full belly and are feeling better." He leans forward and kisses you again, before pulling you up and moving to the wardrobe to get you a hoodie (your favourite one to steal, that he rarely lets you).

"Get dressed pretty." He passes you on his way to pick up his discarded belongings, fishing out his phone. "Samgyeopsal?"

[romanoffsbish]

You’re so Prettyyyyy…

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Warnings: Angst -> Fluff | Friends to Lovers | Drunk Confessions | Suggestive Content

Smut: Fantasy/Thought (2 blocks of writing). Mentions of strap on (R). Mentions of oral(N) (aka, no major smutty plot. You can blink it away)

Natasha was drunk; borderline blackout.

God, you loved her so much, her voice like an angel's melody, but right now, all you wanted was for the pretty drunkard to shut the fuck up.

Her heart, that she normally kept under lock and key was burning on the tip of her tongue.

——

Drunk words are sober thoughts, right?

Most of you hoped so, yearned for it to be true.

Regardless, she'd be embarrassed. She'd probably take off on a mission, nearly get herself killed, and she'd still avoid you when she returned and was benched. Most of her days likely to be spent in the garden moping over some book about sapphic heartbreak.

Natasha is predictably, an involved reader. She lets her favorite artists tell the story of her life.

Which is why you figured she'd bolt. All you can do is hope she is really blacking out so she won't remember this. So that she won't run.

"You're so prettyyy Y/N," the redhead fawned over you as she leaned her entire body against your side. You chuckled; it wasn't humorous. "The most beautiful girl in the universe."

If she could feel how tense you were she didn't let it be known. Her body simply molded into yours and yours stood as still as a statue. You stood there silently cursing vodka and Thor's mead for leaving Natasha in such delirium.

Natasha hiccuped, "My favorite girl," her hand slid into yours, she giggled, "Your hands are so soft." Her fingers slipped between yours and she sighed dreamily, "I just wanna kiss you."

An even tenser silence fell over you both as you said nothing, the redhead turned and shifted into you. Burrowing her face into your top, she sighed sadly now, "I wish you loved me back."

"I do love you Nat." You couldn't believe she'd question such a thing, like you hadn't made your feelings for her obvious for years now. Never with any pressure though, you were just as content remaining only the best of friends if it meant she was still yours in some fashion.

"Nope," she shook her head defiantly. "Because if you did you would've kissed me by now."

"You're drunk Nat..." She huffed, "Only now."

"Yeah, and when you're sober you don't want me. Not my fault." You were growing impatient with her, but you were also instantly riddled with guilt when you felt her body flinch.

"I always want you detka," she whispered her confession so softly into the fabric of your top that you'd miss it if not for being a spy yourself.

"Not outright." Natasha looked up at your avoidant eyes, lips pouting as you guided her into the elevator that finally arrived. An idea spurred her next movements on, catching you completely off guard as she found confidence.

Natasha shoved you against the elevator wall, or at least she tried to, her gross motor skills aren't the same after ten shots of vodka.

That pure shit Alexei smuggles into America too, from when he comes to see his 'girls', but really he comes to intimidate (fangirl over) Captain Ameeeerica. He only ever leaves in low spirits, without success. Even on his surprise visits is the star-spangled man not there when he arrives, he almost thinks that there is a drone following him around; there is, and Melina and Natasha are always in contact.

"Incoming. Two hours, abort America," her tone always serious, and mistakenly humorous.

If the big oaf was here you'd knock him out, along with Thor for only making it worse with promises of top of the line Asgardian mead.

Natasha had actually tripped, instead of the hot sequence she'd envisioned took place. Your hands quickly caught her by the waist, holding her steady. Her lips crashed into yours, slightly taking you by surprise, you'd expected it as a possibility, but were mortified by the actuality.

"Nat please," you were desperate for space, but her lips pressed to yours without any thought, her tongue sliding over yours hungrily. "This isn't fair," you whimpered into her mouth, hot breaths mixing as the one sided kiss continued.

Tears fell from your eyes, saturating both your cheeks as you settled into the moment. If this would be your only chance to kiss her now that she'd given you no choice, you'd lean into it.

Natasha pulled you from the elevator, shoving you haphazardly through the door of her room. Your body landed on the mattress, hers now on top of yours in a flash, hands roaming beneath your shirt the cause for your abrupt departure.

Natasha whined as you turned your head, forcefully separating her lips from yours as your hands tightly gripped her wrists, shaking your head as you flipped your positions. You hovered over her now instead, looking into her dejected eyes with concern. "You're drunk."

Natasha was drunk, but not as much as before.

Still enough to be out of it, but bold enough to make the moves she never could sober. She wanted you, and knew that even if sober her regretted it, it would only be outwardly. Deep down she'd hold onto the memory with joy.

"I'm fine," she attempted to rebut, "Please."

"We can't," you denied, you loved her too much to take advantage of her like this. But you were also weakened by her pleading gaze, there was no more denying it, she reciprocated your love.

So, in a moment of complete tenderness, you reapplied your lips to hers. Giving her all the love you'd hidden away behind playful flirting, soft embraces and the longing glances you'd send her way from across bustling rooms.

"Please," you whimpered breathlessly, "Forget this happened Natty, I-I can't lose you." You kept up the momentum of the soft kiss, even though you were practically sobbing into it.

"Just forget," you begged more firmly, "It'll be easier that way, we'll be okay, you'll stay..."

You fell asleep clinging to that hope.

But alas it was a fruitless thought.

Natasha remembered. It was an inevitability.

She could never forget her dream coming true.

Plus, she was trained to remember everything.

She flinched away from you, body softly trembling as she remembered the words she bombarded you with, and the accompanied laughter, one's uneasy the other's unaware.

The touches, and their implications. God, had she been in her right mind she would have been begging you to take her. Actually, she'd never have been bold enough, she didn't feel deserving of your tenderness, she knew of your love. She just wished you'd known of hers.

Everything would be easier if you did.

What she remembers most vividly, as in what haunts her most, was your desperate pleading that came with tears, and sniffling to prevent a runny nose; to prevent her from running.

Something you yourself tried to do last night.

She remembers you trying to leave, it's a bit of a blur, but you reluctantly stayed when she begged pitifully in her sleepy, drunken stupor.

Now she's uneasy at the sight of you. You were a beautiful, yet tragic reminder of all that she wanted, but never felt like she had a right to take. But while under the influence she did. And the tricky part is she doesn't regret it.

The longer she stared at you the more inclined she felt to face the mess she made. To stay put. So the redhead inched closer to you, you were magnetizing. She couldn't help but attract.

The fading light of the moon had lit up your face, and her heart ached with a longing for permanence. It also weighed heavily with guilt upon seeing pieces of your hair stuck to the dried tear tracks that stained your cheeks.

Lithe, calloused hands touched you with soft intentions. Rough, but oddly soft fingertips trailed up your cheeks as she moved to cup them. Natasha choked back a sob as to not wake you, her heart just couldn't handle how you melted into her so naturally; perfectly.

Natasha continued to sob semi-openly. The hand that wasn't cradling your face lovingly is covering her mouth, forcing her to minimize output as she must rely on her nose to breathe.

"I'm sorry this is how this went down," she shook her head, but you couldn't see, "I'm so embarrassed baby, I wanted our first kiss to be special. I'd schedule the sprinklers for an odd time under Tony in the system. He's far too easy to hack." —— Natasha set aside a whole afternoon to hack into the geniuses files, after 20 minutes she was in line to get popcorn before going in disguise to see the 'shitty' rom coms she'd always protest watching with you.

She loved them — god did she love you.

More than she'd ever dreamed possible.

Natasha obviously loved your body in a way that transcended lust. The redhead adored your plush thighs. She loved to nap on them, there have been days where she spent the entire day in your room doing just that. However, she never claimed to be a saint, and so, in a devious contradiction she'd always imagined the cellulite divots to be a challenge for her. Meant for her to press her thumb into, just to wind up wrapping her fingers around the malleable area, she'd use her attractive strength to press your thighs up and thrust her strap even deeper into your squelching cunt.

Your walls would quiver around the silicone and you'd cry out for her to stop and keep going all at the same time. Blissfully confused.

God she wanted that, but now she fears she ruined it all by not confessing with her sanity.

"We would've been having a spread of peanut butter sandwiches, grapes and oreos," she paused to catch her breath, she was nervous, your likely hearing this confession on some level. "Then just as I victoriously landed a light green grape into your mouth the sprinklers would shoot out of the grass without even a warning squeak before we'd be jumping up in shock, and quickly deflating as our clothes are officially soaked through. I'd hoped you'd be giggling. Smile as bright as the sun behind you, giving you that perfect angel glow."

You struggled to contain yourself, this crazy idea that Natasha 'the ever so stoic Black Widow' Romanoff had these girlish fantasies of you was amusing, and incredibly endearing.

Your body warmed as she spoke so tenderly.

Natasha sniffled into the sleeve of her hoodie, then a bitter chuckle left her lips. "We would have inched closer as we decided to dance in the metaphorical rain. Then I would have put my hand on your cheek, while my other lands on your waist. Then it would be up to you to ask me to pull you in." Natasha softly sighed.

She went to cradle your face with her free hand, but she lost her balance, shaking the bed and slipping your face from her right hands soft stabilization, right onto her left, your cold, damp lips pursed against the skin of her palm.

Natasha shivered at the delicate touch. Faint memories hitting her, a warmth settling over her pale pink lips, as she choppily remembered bits and pieces of last night in the elevator.

In a shaky whisper, the Russian beauty said: "Then when you sheepishly nodded, or squeaked out an adorable yes I would've pulled you in, and kissed you slow Y/N. Letting you, my precious girl, decide the eventual tempo."

Natasha let her face hover over yours, your breaths softly puffed against her skin as she whispered on about her perfect date. "We'd have probably ran to a dry part of land, likely further in the woods that gave way to shadows. Deep green leaves to gorgeously rival the pear green shaded ones. Then just as you caught your breath I'd rob you of it and push you into an oak tree; where I'd love you if you let me."

Natasha squeaked when you hastily broke the minuscule distance, leaning up to kiss her hard. Confirming her suspicions that you'd been awake the whole time. She was a spy, but so were you, so the usual context clues, like ones breathing patterns, aren't exactly credible.

The kiss was sloppy, full of obvious desperation on both ends. You were so afraid she'd run, but you realize now that you underestimated her.

"You're here," you acknowledged, tears springing to your eyes as you felt overwhelmed by immense happiness. She smiled solemnly. "I'm here to stay moya lyubov'," she promised in a hushed tone, "I won't run, I swear to it."

"You're serious Natty?" Natasha nodded with a grin that was widening at the sight of your face. A stray tear ran down your cheek, but it wasn't sad, it was one of relief, one she understood.

"Yes, I'm not going anywhere, at least not without you by my side." Her entire body warmed as you giggled unabashedly, she'd only booped your nose to emphasize her prior sentiments, in hindsight she saw how it could be deemed childish, but she didn't mind much. Hearing your joy is what manifested her own.

"Soooo," your voice trailed off, anxiety bubbled beneath the surface keeping you choked up.

"Yes," Natasha softly answered your wordless question, her lips pressing to your cheek as she sought to comfort you. "You're mine now." Her lips then pressed to yours. "And I'm yours."

"Please remind me to thank Alexei and Thor."

Natasha laughed, belly aching as her face fell into the crook of your neck. "You ruined it," she groaned against your skin, "the moment was perfect, and you just couldn't let it be."

"I'm known for my anxious responses Nat," you reminded her, "Be sure that's what you.." Natasha shushed you with a finger over your lips, pulling back from your neck she glared down at you without heat. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. I'm locked in baby girl."

Natasha smiled when your body melted into her mattress, it was as if her words unlocked the remainder of the tension in your body.

The moment was once again perfect, she leaned back down to slowly kiss you, her tongue was seconds away from entering your mouth until she was startled. The sounds going off in your stomach were reminiscent of hectic war times, it sent her head flying backwards in shock. "When did you eat last Y/N?"

You sheepishly laughed, "I think lunch."

Natasha gasped before immediately leaving you alone on her bed, she removed her phone from its charging dock then wordlessly slipped into her bathroom. You were confused, sure, but you knew there was likely a reason for her reaction. (She cared about you very much.)

"Okay, so I ordered breakfast from that diner up the street that you love," Natasha began to ramble methodically, "Today is a lazy day, I have deemed it as such so Steve was already told to fuck off, and to stay away from you."

Natasha's next set of words died on her tongue, you'd moved to sit up now, and under the light of the sun she noticed you were in her clothes.

An old, tattered Green Day T-shirt that she stole from Clint, and a pair of panties hidden beneath the length. She wondered what color.

"Natty?" The woman looked to you in a daze, but she quickly shook out of it at the sight of your extended hand. She accepted it with ease and you pulled her into your lap, the cold skin of your thigh pressed into the warmth of her own and she shuddered softly. Her viridescent eyes fluttered open to find your gentle smile waiting, and she could only think about kissing you, she'd pretend it was for the first time.

You sighed heavily, an indication of nerves, and she worried you'd changed your mind. But then you speak and everything settles, "I know it's a bit soon, but I hope you understand that I love you," you smile as you speak, "I've loved you for years, and I want to put it all out there."

"I think that it's actually a bit late," Natasha acknowledges with a teasing smirk, "We've been idiots for long enough Y/N. No more."

You shook your head in emphasis, "No more." Natasha mirrors your goofy smile as you cup her face, thumb stroking over the raised apple of her cheek just before you're pulling her in for a kiss that leaves you both feeling restless.

Natasha had moved to straddle your closed thighs, her arms lazily wrapped around your neck as she let you devour her mouth whole. There was a natural flow established, the redhead ground her hips down into you as burning arousal coursed through her veins. It seemed promiscuously promising even, especially with how she whimpered into your mouth shamelessly. Then the moment was over as Friday boomed through her speakers.

“Attention Agent Romanoff, your breakfast has arrived, and Mr. Stark refuses to send anyone upstairs in fear of a traumatic encounter.”

Natasha growls against your lips, “Pretentious fucking twat is asking for an ass whooping.”

You giggled, “Is he wrong Natty?” Natasha shrugged, her lips were pursed thoughtfully as she silently noted your compromised position.

“I mean,” you paused, pushing her even closer via the hand you had on her back, the one that was barely above her ass. “I wouldn’t exactly mind having you for my breakfast.”

Natasha smirked, her plump lips now ghosting over yours, and only brushing yours lightly. “Nice try detka,” she whispered, her lips found yours again, but in a much softer kiss that she controlled this time. “I don’t want to rush,” she timidly admitted, “We have time, and I want to take you out to dinner before serving dessert.”

The redhead winked as she left the room, you fell back against the mattress with a huff, she always was such a tease. Even in friendship. You loved her in spite of that, and as the lust faded you felt your mind reach the same place.

Meanwhile, in the elevator, Natasha was smiling like an idiot as she leaned her warm body into the cold metal. Her fingers brushed over her lips, they were burning with memory’s of yours and her heart fluttered in her chest.

When she returned to find you snoring softly she couldn’t help but to shake her head in amusement. Warmth overtook her body as she imagined this becoming a more familiar sight.

Natasha vowed to spend the rest of her life chasing down the sweet moments like these with you. Nothing in this world would ever mean as much to the woman as you do.

At least that's what she believed, until the day she first held your son in her arms, she swears she actually felt her heart doubling in size.

Everything made sense to her now, her heart at genuine ease for the first time in her entire life.

————

3,168 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥺

If you’re feeling angsty, here, have a bonus ending: Then it shattered, as yours flatlined...

[nanaminokanojo]

BAD NEWS (part 58)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t have been more dead wrong, except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think, MAYBE you’ll be the exception…maybe not.

CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x you/afab reader | gojo satoru | various jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | band au | college au | stupid pining | aged-up characters | friends to lovers (?) | smut

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol, drugs | mentions of cheating, promiscuity, mild dubcon, etc. | god-awful pet names | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 58 next>>

A/N: Smutty things ahead, be warned. Panels 3 to 10 at the end. 😊

Red-bottoms in hand, you slung one arm over Mai's shoulder, both of you dissolving into giggles when you started dancing barefoot on the stone steps that led to your doorstep while her twin looked on in abject annoyance. It was mostly about Mai who insisted on coming out of the car to walk you to the door and you basically encouraging it. She didn't know what was worse, this or when you guys jumped into a loud discussion about your favorite pro footballers earlier during the ride.

"What's the code to the door, Y/N?" Maki asked you as she hoisted Mai over to her other side to split the two of you up.

"Code? Code..." You swayed dangerously towards the side of the elevated step by the door, and she was only able to pull you in time before you fell on the rose bushes. You laughed at how she rolled her eyes before stumbling towards the door, almost hitting your head against the hard wood. Still, you repeated the same word over and over again, thinking long and hard about what to punch on the glowing blue buttons.

"Well?"

"Ah!" you responded, raising your index finger up. "Toru...it's..." You swallowed hard, the action coming with a little hiccup that sent Mai into another round of giggles, also triggering you.

"His birthday?" Maki supplied for you and you nodded vigorously, about to raise your arms but you hit your shoe against the door, gasping as you checked for scuffs as if you could see straight.

Shaking her head, she punched the numbers into the keypad, successfully opening it. "Get inside. I'll help you to your room."

You waved your hands at her. "No, no...'m fine, Captain." You stepped in rather unsteadily.

"You sure?"

Again, you snickered at the way her brow arched but nodded nonetheless, doing a little dance as you said goodbye to Mai whom Makit dragged away to the car just as you were closing the door.

"Toru?" you called, but got no answer, swaying towards the stairs and haphazardly holding onto the banister whilst you still held onto your heels, careful not to drop them. One wobbly step at a time, you pulled your weight up, snickering when you nearly tripped. You did that halfway up and made it the rest of the way crawling on all fours.

You blindly made your way to the second room from the stairs, slowly and quietly pushing the door, or at least as quietly as you can in your drunken state. It's more like you pushed your way in, hand faltering several times on the knob. When you finally stumbled in, it was dark. You didn’t turn on the lights, you were not confident you can find the switch anyway, so you just started stripping your clothes off until you were just in the tiny, form-fitting dress you wore to the club, your heels dropping with loud thuds on the laminate floors.

You still had the mind to think about washing the makeup off of your face, marching towards the wall you knew your dresser was at, but you didn't see it there.

"Huh," you muttered under your breath, the effort you exerted trying to walk without falling making your head spin even more. There was no way you were making it anywhere else, so you opted for the bed which was closer, and finally fell into it.

You could have sworn you heard someone groan somewhere near you, but you couldn’t care less, giggling when you felt an irregular lump on where you had fallen. You nearly slipped off the bed, but somehow, you didn't, a warm, snug feeling engulfing you as you lay face down, comfortable on the spot you've chosen. You clung to that feeling of sleep starting to devour you, afraid that if you opened your eyes, your world would start spinning again so you screwed your eyes shut, and soon, you were dead to the world with nothing but the feeling of warm hands soothing your back.

Wait...hands?

The idea seemed ridiculous to you. You kept your eyes closed, thinking it was just the alcohol and that you were probably just imagining things. Very specific ones involving a man with beautiful, long, ebony hair and the way he smelled – smoky wind in a pine forest with hints of something akin to limes and sandalwood – along with that familiar warmth that reminded you of home and everything else familiar to you.

You were still too dizzy, but not without any coherent thoughts as you seemed to lack just moments ago. How long you've been trying to get sleep in the suddenly uncomfortable position you were in, you didn't know. But you were slowly realizing that something was amiss, making your heart thud heavily in your chest. You, however, couldn't pinpoint just what it was in your state of inebriation.

Just then, you felt the "bed" you were laying on shift, and you could have sworn you felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around your shoulder and waist, gently easing you to your back.

"Kitten?" came those deep mellow notes you'd know anywhere, and something seemed to click in your brain, the dress you were wearing suddenly feeling too tight as heat flared up all over your body. Ironically, you felt like shivering.

In the seconds that followed, the cogs in your brain moved and you realized you made a bed out of someone, and when you finally came to full awareness and opened your eyes, you were confronted by the face of your older brother's best friend, mere centimeters from yours, slowly breaking into that lopsided smile, faint dimples making themselves known as he looked down at you sleepily. The action enhanced his features even in the semi-darkness, hot-wiring your already addled brain.

You wanted to bolt right out of bed, but his steady amber gaze held you there, not to mention the alcohol in your system. “Su...suguru?” You chuckled, torn between thinking your seeing the real thing or some specter of your fantasies. But at that point, who cares?

You tilted your head to the side, flashing him a sultry smile even as his brows furrowed together. "Whatchu doin' here, sexy?" you slurred.

“I slept over,” he answered, grinning cheekily at you as he got rid of some stray hairs on your cheek, his cold fingers brushing over your skin. You inched towards his touch, humming in satisfaction. “What are you doing here, kitten?”

You did a little scoff or something close to it. “This is my room.”

“No, sweetheart, this is the guest room.” His voice sounded so velvety, making you shiver visibly.

“Well shit…” You chuckled as you closed your eyes, willing the nausea away. “Give me a sec.”

You felt Suguru move closer to you, your foreheads touching as he wrapped his arms tighter around you as he laid back down, guiding you to lie on your side. “I don’t mind.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t either.” You looked at him unsteadily, seemingly unable to focus as you blinked slowly, trying to make sense of what you were currently seeing. Without thinking, you placed a hand on his cheek, running the pad of your thumb over his skin. And then you broke into a smile. "I can never seem to reach you..."

Suguru placed a hand over yours. "What do you mean? I've always been here," he whispered back. "You'll always have me, kitten. You know that."

You shook your head. "No..."

"No?"

"Not..." You breathed in, moving your fingers over the line of his nose, trying to be gentle, afraid that he will disappear. But when he didn't, you dared to touch his cupid's bow, tracing along it as you slowly released your breath a little at a time. "Not like this."

Suguru looked at you in confusion now."Not like what, hm?" At that, he started nuzzling you on the cheek until your lips were mere millimeters away. "Care to explain that?"

"Like this."

"Mhmm?" He brushed his nose against yours.

"This close..."

This can't be real, you thought, your heart sinking in your chest. In the slowness of your mind, you suddenly had so many things making themselves evident. You hated how even in your drunken moments, it was only Geto Suguru that you could think off; how your longing was conjuring images in your head so damn real, it made your yearning even stronger. You've wanted him for so long that your brain is making things up.

You sat up, easing his arms off you gently, but then, the look of disappointment on his face made you stop.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

"This whole thing – this...y-you, here, right now. This isn't right – You're not even real, why am I talking to you?"

He, too, sat up, his face inching closer towards you as if daring you to move farther from him, but you didn’t. "I am real, Y/N. I am in front of you."

You chuckled as you felt your resolve faltering, submitting to your daydreams and imagination, making you lose yourself enough to believe what this version of Suguru was telling you.

“I’m still drunk, right?”

Suguru snickered, nodding. “Pretty much.”

You leaned closer. “Good. At least I have an excuse.”

"Excuse for?"

Instead of an answer, you cupped his face as you rose to your knees, crashing your lips to his slightly parted ones, hoping and praying to every higher power that this was real, and not just happening inside your head.

**

How could you tell him he wasn't real? You weren't real. None of this was.

It's not real that you just strolled into the guest room Suguru happened to be in, drunk to your toes. It's not real that you just decided to make a bed out of him. It's not real, everything that you said to him. It's not –

Oh. But this felt real – the feeling of your skin against his, warm and flushed and so smooth under his calloused palms; your presence as you weighed down on him, hands firm at the sides of his head as you coveted him; the feel and taste of your plush lips, a cocktail of your lip gloss, alcohol and whatever you were made of, pressed against his, the air you were breathing one and the same.

This was real. It's happening. And he wanted it. Oh, how much he had longed for it...waited for it. Before he knew it, he was opening his mouth, fingers delving into your hair to hold you in place, returning every adamant movement of your lips, giving it back with his. It's been over a year since you left him with the taste of you lingering at the back of his mind and the tip of his tongue, thinking he will never have the pleasure of ever knowing it again. And yet there you were again, in his arms, him locked in yours, giving him what he's always wanted and filling that void that he tried so hard to fill when you went away without acknowledging matters between you.

"Suguru," you spoke against his mouth, almost begging, trapping him in a bewitching spell from which he never wanted to snap out of as if you were calling his very soul. He never thought his name ever sounded so good coming out of someone else's mouth, and yet you seemed to be giving it a whole new meaning.

Entranced and enchanted, he unconsciously took the initiative, recapturing your lips as he pulled you even closer to him. A nagging voice at the back of his head told him to stop, but it went unheard when you slid your tongue between his lips, the sound of your moaned out triumph rendering what's left of his capacity to reason useless. You took your fill of him, giggling when you found that piece of silver embedded on his tongue, reaching for it with yours.

With a whine, you anchored yourself on his shoulder, kneeling astride his lap and leveraging the tangle of sheets below you to push him backwards until he was lying against the pillows. You followed after him, in hot pursuit of his lips which momentarily detached from yours, eyes glazed and wild as you laughed quietly, the sound almost sounding like a purr.

Getting a bit of clarity, Suguru pushed himself up, steadying you by the waist to stop you from going even further. "Kitten," he shook his head, "Y/N, you're drunk – mmmff –!"

Huge mistake as you were having none of it, your lips immediately finding his like a homing missile that's got its target locked. And if that didn't make a hot mess out of him, you deliberately ground your hips against his, the fabric of his sweats and your underwear providing much of the friction both of you yearned for yet not enough. You gasped as the apex of your thighs rubbed precisely over his hardening length, but it didn't even take you a second to do it again, unable to get enough.

"Kitten, don't – holy shit, baby..."

"Want you," you mumbled against his lips as you continued to grind against him, your hand reaching underneath you as you grabbed fistfuls of his gray sweats, clawing at the fabric and along the skin of his iliac furrow, making him hiss as you managed to pull it off of him. He held onto your wrist in an attempt to stop you again, but to no avail.

Suguru knew you had a one-track mind, and like Satoru, if you wanted something, come hell or high water, you will get it. The means didn't matter. You were both such brats growing up that he knew as much. And it seems it didn't matter what state of mind you were in either. You sought and you took without thinking twice, the same way you saw your goals on the field and executed them. This time he was the field, and you were going to conquer him regardless.

You bent down, kissing him senseless again, your hand firm on his nape while the other one guided his hand under your dress. You smirked into the kiss, nipping at his lower lip before letting go and saying, "Take it off."

"A-are you –"

"Yes."

You didn't have to tell him twice. In the next second, your pesky underwear was out of the way and your bare, wetness was pressed down midway his cock, pinning it flat against his stomach. Your grip on his shirt was tight as you started to rock back and forth over his length, setting your rhythm.

Again, as much as he thought it wasn't really happening, that his mind was probably trapped in a perpetual oasis of dreams that were solely made of you, Suguru was much too awake to deny it, all his nerves firing within him as the realization dawned that you were there. Crazy drunk. On top of him. Chasing your pleasure and taking you with him.

His hands were all over you, not knowing where to touch until he finally found purchase on your ass, kneading your flesh as he directed your movements closer to his tip until it was repeatedly catching into your slick folds while also simultaneously stimulating your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your snagged breaths and airy moans made him want to just topple you into the bed and take over you, but Suguru kept his restraint, merely satisfying himself with the view of you dominating him, your lips parted as you threw your head back in pleasure.

This was about you, and he wouldn't have it any other way. If you wanted him, you can have him, use him to your heart's content even if it meant you will forget when you wake up.

Do you even realize what you were doing? He wondered at that, feeling a twinge on his chest at the thought that you'll slip from his grasp again when daylight comes.

No, he thought. Not this time.

He felt your movements grow erratic, your nails scratching at the skin of his chiseled abdomen.

"Fuck, baby, right there," he encouraged you, helping your movements as you evidently grew tired chasing your high. His fingers will bruise your hips with how tight he was gripping you, intensifying the heat between where you were touching until you were spasming and letting out high-pitched moans, your release fueling your movements as it dripped onto him.

"Sugu...ru..." you called his name, mostly broken parts of it as he let you ride your high, eventually leading to his own undoing.

"K-kitten – fuck!" he let out along with his stuttering breaths when he, too, came hard, staining his stomach and the inner side of your thighs.

He breathed deeply, sweat matting his skin. He let out a quiet chuckle as he watched you listing towards the side, all spent and succumbing to the exhaustion, coupled with the alcohol still in your system.

Before you could fall, Suguru got up, gently laying you down on the bed before removing his shirt and silently making his way to the bathroom, suddenly reminded that Satoru was just at the end of the hallway.

He's fucked, he knew that, but he couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched you squirm and groan in your sleep while he cleaned you up and changed your clothes, patiently removing your makeup even when you swatted at his hands irritably.

After all that, he carried you back to your room, making sure you were comfortable, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead, the act seemingly chaste and out of place after all that you two have done.

He sighed, much too awake to get back to sleep, his mind on the consequences of the night's events, but he couldn't care less, not even at the thought that Satoru might hate him.

Because Geto Suguru may be damned to the deepest pits of hell, but as long as he has you, he'll gladly suffer in the flames for it.

TAG LIST: @lilc77 @strxkbylightning @lavender-hvze @maya-maya-56 @kibananya @nerdisthenewcool @darkstarlight82 @lysaray @ti-mame @ri-sa20 @diogodxlot @starlightanyaaa @sugurubabe @guacam011y @yeehawslap @luvvmae @s-j320 @ichorstainedskin @iaminyourfloors @tanchosanke @hellyyy06 @tacobellfreshavocado @mrs-monkey-d-luffy

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240605]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[twola]

you mentioned wanting some smutty prompts; how about the opposite of Seven Deadly Sins?

what about Seven Heavenly Virtues with a high honor!Arthur and an F!reader getting into all kinds of NSFW shenanigans, except filled with turmoil and drama as i imagine a high honor Arthur wouldn't want to impose at first... 👀

Oh! I have thought about this in the past - this isn’t going to be anywhere near as ambitious as that, but here is a drabble post with the seven capital virtues.

Virtuous

High-honor Arthur Morgan x Younger F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

At least with you, he will try to be a good man. It doesn't come naturally, of course.

Chastity: the state or practice of refraining from extramarital, or especially from all, sexual intercourse.

You’re drunk. Rip-roaring drunk. Stumbling drunk. But on a night like tonight, you blend in. Tonight liquor is flowing and the mood is jovial: little Jack is back in his mother’s arms and for once in the past several months, everything seems like it’s going to be okay.

You aren’t as drunk as Karen, god, that’s a good thing, her drinking is getting a bit out of control.  But you’re drunk enough to be troublesome.

You’re drunk enough to sneak away and climb into Arthur Morgan’s bed. He’s important enough that he’s gotten his own room, and as Javier belts out another refrain in Spanish, you sneak away and creep upstairs in the old plantation house, into Arthur’s room. The oil lantern casts shadows in the room, over shelves of ammunition, knives, and a map stretched out on a table. 

You sway slightly, moving toward the bed. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this drunk before. 

What you do know is how you’ve been watching him for months, probably since you joined this gang, nursing an infatuation for Dutch’s top gun. You know he’s older - you’re not much past twenty yourself, but it is him you see when you shut your eyes and touch yourself on lonely nights.

Kicking off your shoes, you crawl into his bed, pulling the sheet over yourself. Somehow, the whiskey in your belly burns in a smoldering frustration - you want him, you want him, and damnit, you’re going to do something about it.

Arthur returns to his room much later in the night, smelling like cigars and whiskey.  He pauses, for a moment, seeing a huddled form in his bed, but quickly relaxes, taking his hat from his head and placing it on the shelf atop a box of rifle cartridges.

“What are you doin’ up here, little lady?” He asks in a patient tone, unwinding his gunbelt from his hips, spreading it over the map on the table.

“Waitin’ fer you, Mister Morgan.”

Arthur sits on the edge of the bed, “What could you possibly be waitin’ for me for?”

You push yourself to sit up on your elbows. “How come you don’t have a lady, Arthur?”

He snorts, smirking slightly and shaking his head while pulling one of his boots off, “None would have me, Miss.”

“I would.”

Arthur stops, turning around and looking at you.

“Little lady, you’ve had quite a bit to drink tonight. Talkin’ all sorts of silliness.” 

You shake your head, your hair falling out of its messy braid, you reach over toward his arm, placing your small hand upon it, “I- I know I’m young, Arthur, but I could make y’so happy- ‘nd -”

A hiccup interrupts your confession. Arthur’s confidence is not inspired, as he turns back toward his other boot, sliding it off as it tumbles to the floor.

“ -’ nd, - and I know I could keep y’satisfied.” You punctuate the last word by running your hand from his forearm up his bicep to his shoulder, gently rubbing at it.

The liquor in your system has removed any sense of propriety from your mind. Every tawdry fantasy of Arthur Morgan you’ve had in the past months runs through your head, and now here you are, in his bed, practically propositioning him.

“Darlin’, this ain’t a good idea.”

You pull your hand back like you’ve touched a hot stove. “D’ya… d’ya not want me?”

He turns again, moving one of his legs onto the bed, and faces you fully as he takes a deep breath. “Sweetheart - I…that’s not…”

“I can go, I’m sorry, I’ll not bother-” You stumble over your words, trying to crawl out of bed.

His large hand on your thigh stops your forward motion. It also stops all coherent thought in your head.

“I ain’t gonna take advantage of you with you near fallin’ over drunk, little lady. But ‘course, course I want you - I don’t know why a pretty young thing like you would want an old man like me for.”

“Arthur-” You whine, and he blinks as seemingly all of his blood rushes to his groin at the needy sound of your voice.

“Y’need to get some sleep, then we can talk about this.”

“In the morning?” You ask, and he gently takes both of your shoulders and guides you down to lie in his bed.

“We can talk about it in the mornin’. After you’ve slept this off, alrigh’?” 

“Promise?”

“Yes, darlin’. I promise.”

You take that to be enough and settle down in his bed to sleep. Arthur sighs, watching as you quickly drift off, and stands up, pulling an old chair next to the bed and sitting down in it. He runs his hand down his beard and stares at the cracked and stained ceiling of the room.

Christ, the girl in his bed was close to fifteen years younger than him. He shouldn’t be entertaining this at all, for her sake. Dirty old man…

But still, he did have a soft spot for the smiles you give him. The sway of your narrow hips as you walk in camp, the shine of your long hair, the freckles that have developed on your face, and decolletage under the Lemoyne sun…

And here you were, in his bed, pleading with him to sleep together.

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair, knowing that for your sake, he had to be a better man.

Temperance: the quality of moderation or self-restraint.

The sunlight on your eyelids makes you scrounge your nose, and your eyes slowly flutter open. Your head pounds, but you blink yourself into self-awareness, realizing everything you said and did last night was not, indeed, a dream.

Arthur is sleeping in the chair next to the bed and nods awake when he hears you moving.

“How’re you feeling, little lady? Seems like you had quite a bit to drink last night.”

You rub your forehead, avoiding eye contact with him, a vibrant blush settling on your cheeks as you sit up. 

“I c’n go get you some coffee.” Arthur stands up, moving toward the bed to put his boots on. At that moment, you decide to go for broke, reaching out to grab his arm.

“Mm?” Arthur hums, turning toward you. Your eyes flit from his, down to his lips, and you unconsciously lick your own. With the newfound courage of a woman with nothing to lose, you surge forward and press your lips against his. He is surprised and doesn’t respond for a moment, but after recollecting his wits, he turns fully toward you and wraps one of his arms around you.

You pull back, your eyes still looking downward. “I think we agreed that we was gonna talk.”

“We did,” Arthur says, but he leans in to press his lips against yours, his tongue brushing along the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You sigh, leaning into him and allowing him so. His lips are chapped, but still soft, as his large arm winds around you.

It’s several moments like this, mouths moving against each other, until you maneuver yourself nearly into his lap, clutching at him desperately.

You pant into his mouth, reaching toward the button on his trousers. His hand catches yours, however, and a groan rumbles from deep in his chest.

“Arthur -” You whine, you feel your bloomers wet against your skin, and you’re sure that he’s hard in his trousers. 

“C’mon now, sweetheart.” He grits out, pressing you away from him in the bed.

You pout, “You said we would talk about this in the morning.”

“I reckon we better start talkin’ then. Don’t think we were doin’ much talkin’ there.” 

Patience: the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.

Arthur was a busy man. As the lead enforcer of the gang, he was one of the men who brought in the most money - he could be very convincing at the end of a shotgun.

You knew Arthur did what he had to do: it kept you fed, clothed, cared for. 

You were also annoyed that you’d barely seen him for a week: frankly, since that morning after Jack’s return, he’s been in and out of camp at Dutch’s beck and call. Only around to give you sweet kisses behind crumbling columns or trees draped with Spanish moss. 

When you do get the chance, you clutch at him as if you could make him stay, pressing your tongue into his mouth, trying to pull him downward. It is really somewhat laughable, as he could toss you over his shoulder one-handed should he choose.

But he doesn’t choose.

He does pull you away after several moments, usually after the soft moan has escaped your mouth and you’ve pressed yourself against him.

“Patience, little lady. Ain’t no one ever tell you the best things come to those who wait?”

You pout back at him, deciding not to tell him how you’ve snuck into his room and touched yourself in his bed at night.

Diligence: having or showing care and conscientiousness in one's work or duties.

The afternoon heat hung low, sweat breaking out on the back of your neck as you rushed toward the back of the old plantation house, hiking up your skirts as you bound down the stairs of the back porch while no one is around. Bolting toward the old dockhouse, you grin as you see Arthur’s horse grazing in the fields at the back of the property.

He’s standing there, whisps of smoke drifting upward from the cigarette hanging from his lips. Leaning against a cypress tree eyes out on the horizon over the waters of the Lanaheechee.

He hears you coming, why wouldn’t he, you’re bowling through like a bull in a china shop. Arthur turns right as you come up to him, nearly launching yourself at him in delight.

“Whoa there, gonna run straight into the water now.” Arthur smiles, his hands on your shoulders.

You press forward into his embrace. “I knew you’d catch me.”

He snorts lightly, his arms moving to wrap around your small waist.

“Y’ready to get away for a bit?”

You look up at him, a head and a half taller than you, beaming, “Really?”

“Reckon I’ve done enough jobs to earn an afternoon off. C’mon, let's get out of here.”

He winds his arm around your shoulder and starts walking the two of you toward his horse. 

“Where we goin’?” You ask as you reach the mare, and Arthur swings you up to sit on the horse’s rump. He taps your leg lightly.

“You’ll see, little lady.”

Charity: aid given to those in need

The picnic in the meadow outside Bolger Glade did not last long. A few canned peaches were consumed before you crawled into Arthur’s lap and drew him into a kiss.

This time, finally, he does not push you away as you press against him. Indeed, he does the exact opposite. He rolls you beneath him, flat out on the blanket, and moves his lips from yours down your neck, suckling gently at the skin there, before his hand ducks downward to gather your skirts up, fingers trailing up your legs underneath the cotton.

“Y’want this?” He pants in your ear as his rough fingers press against your bloomers, and all you can do is whine needily in acquiescence. 

He pulls your bloomers down, down your thighs, down past your knees, and tosses them to the side before sliding his hand up your skirts again. You cling to his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as a high moan as he touches your skin. 

Arthur rubs in gentle circles against your folds, and your breath loudly hitches as one of his fingers pauses near your opening for but a moment before sliding inside. 

Hopefully, you’re far enough from the road not to bring attention to the two of you, because you’re having an increasingly hard time keeping quiet, thrusting your face against his shoulder to muffle your sounds, especially when he slides another finger into your wet warmth.

It's only a few moments more before you keen, mewling into the linen of his shirt as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear: good girl, that’s it.

“Let me… let me make you feel good,” You pant, reaching for the buckle of his pants as you regain some of your wherewithal.

He gently swats your hand away.

“Hush, I ain’t done with you yet.”

You want to scream aloud when his head disappears under your skirts and you feel his tongue press against your cunt.

Humility:  a modest or low view of one's own importance; humbleness.

You moan into his neck as you roll your hips in his lap, his hands spread wide over the globes of your rear and he pants in return, grinding you against the hardness in his pants.

“Fuck,”  he swears, and lays you down on the blanket, looming over you, hands reaching to undo the buttons of his trousers. “Y’ready?”

“Y-yes.” You shiver, opening your legs for him and starting to pull your skirts up, uncovering inch by inch of your inner thighs up to the thatch of dark hair shrouding your cunt.

Your breath hitches as he fully opens his pants, about to pull his length from them.

Arthur stops, looking at you, studying your eyes, your face, before frowning. “You’ve never done this before.”

He leans back up onto his knees, shaking his head. You rocket up in concern, afraid he’s going to leave, god, that would break your damn heart.

“Tell me the truth.” He asks, his tone firm.

You shake your head and Arthur sighs, staring down at his hands in his lap, the swollen tenting of his half-opened trousers, his cock still steel hard.

“I - I ain’t worthy of this honor, darlin’. Y- you should have a far better person than me bein’ your first.” Arthur says, one hand moving to redo the buttons of his pants.

“No,” You cry out forcefully, grabbing his hand, “I want it to be you, Arthur.”

“Little lady-”

You interrupt, grasping his hand in your own and interlacing your fingers. “You’re kind, and you’re wonderful, and I know you ain’t gonna hurt me.”

You lay back on the blanket, your hair fanning out, and still holding his hand, you pull him toward you. Arthur closes his eyes, visibly struggling with himself.

“I-”

He trails off, and after several moments, his eyes flutter open again. You’re spread out beneath him, his knees framed by your open legs, your face flushed, your cunt wet and needy and ready for him.

“Arthur. I want it to be you.” You say, with more force behind your voice.

He breaks.

“Alright, sweetheart… Alright.”

Kindness: the quality of being friendly, generous, and considerate.

Arthur pulls his cock from his pants, stroking himself several times, and as you watch him, your hand moves down between your legs, touching your glistening folds as he grunts in approval. After several moments, he looks back at you, a serious heaviness in his eyes.

“You tell me if it hurts - you hear that?” “Yes,” you whine, gasping as he moves over you, placing his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips as he presses his length against your core, parting your folds, gently jutting his hips back and forth, covering himself with your slick. 

The head of his cock hits that bundle of nerves and you moan loudly into his mouth, and he jolts against you, pressing his length even harder against the seam of your body.

He curses against your lips, pressing himself up with one arm, balancing on his other forearm, as he reaches down between you to grasp the base of his cock. He slowly pulls it down, down the seam of you until the head catches at your weeping opening. He presses in slightly, enough so that he can move his hand, and immediately moves up to cradle your cheek. His thumb traces your jawline for a moment, his blue eyes flutter as he begins to press forward.

Your breath escapes you as you throw your arms around his neck, his flesh splitting you open - it does hurt, but god, if he were to stop, your heart might hurt even more. He’s about halfway in when he starts peppering kisses over your brow, his thumb drawing gentle circles over your cheek.

“Y’okay?” He asks, his voice not more than a whisper.

“Yes, please… please.” You plead, unable to articulate any further.

Arthur groans, pressing completely inside you, his girthy cock fully seated, and he remains still as your fingers dig into his shoulders, his work shirt saving his skin from your nails.

After a few moments, you unclench your hands, one moving up his neck to grasp the ends of his short hair. “Arthur,” you moan, in a high, flighty voice that gives him permission to move.

He slowly, gently, retracts his hips from yours, and then presses back forward, intently watching your face for any twinge of pain. When he sees none, he repeats the process a little faster. And again, a little faster.

You gasp and whine in tune with his thrusts, and finally, he lets out a groaning whimper after he’s sure you’re enjoying it. “God, you’re so tight, squeezin’ me like this-”

You mewl as he lowers himself completely over you, your ankles crossing over his lower back. The sounds coming from your mouth edge on obscene, as Arthur thrusts into your accepting body over and over again.

“That’s it, that’s it, c’mon, darlin’, let go.” He grunts into your ear, nuzzling against the side of your head.

You cry out, your back arching up as you convulse around him, crying his name in absolute adoration.

Arthur presses his forehead against yours, gritting his teeth and screwing his eyes shut as he thrusts a handful of more times before pulling himself from you, reaching down and stroking his cock as he finishes, his spend coating his fingers and dripping to the blanket beneath you.

He pants, leaning on his side as he lowers his hip to lay beside you, your legs falling open. He kisses your forehead, one of his large hands pulling your skirts down over your knees and thighs as you catch your own breath.

“Good for ya?” He rumbles, his hand finding purchase on your soft belly.

You open your eyes, smiling up at him. The sunlight pours through the tree you rest under on the warm afternoon.

“You’re so good for me, Arthur.”

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Stars Align: Part 9 - Final

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Violence, Mentions of Abuse, Stalking, Sexual Themes, Trauma, Alcohol, Swearing, Home Intrusions, Attacks.

-- Part 8 Here --

________________________

18+ Only - Smutty Chapter + Possible Triggers

________________________

Present:

You walked into the bungalow, sufficiently shaken, and Bradley instructed you to sit down while he drew you a bath.

By the time he got back from the bathroom, he found you fast asleep, curled up on the sofa.

He smiled down at you as he gently stroked your hair from your face, you stirred and hummed, a sound that reached right inside Bradley and tugged at his heart strings.

“I love you, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispered, and then scooped you up in his arms and carried you carefully to bed.

Once he’d removed your dress and tucked you in, ensuring you were asleep again, he left the room and checked the door and windows.

He thought Jacob's threat was just that, an empty threat, but he had to be sure you were safe.

Once he was truly satisfied everything was locked and there was no one lurking in the bushes outside, he finally allowed himself to reel in the whole night. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, sitting at the kitchen island while he drank it and his heart rate began to calm, the pain in his knuckles slowly subsiding.

In the bedroom, you stirred and felt around for Bradley. When you realised he wasn’t there, you got out of bed and walked out into the living room, the cool air on your almost bare skin making you shiver.

You suddenly heard a sniffling noise coming from the kitchen.

You stopped in the doorway as you found Bradley wiping his eyes as he sat, a half finished beer on the island in front of him.

“Bradley?”

He spun around, surprised to find you there, and quickly hid his face as he wiped the tears that slid down his cheeks.

You quickly crossed over to him, forcing him to turn around in his stool.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” You cooed, cupping his face in your hands. His hands fell naturally on your hips, rubbing the bare skin not covered by your underwear with his thumbs.

“Nothing, I’m fine. I didn’t see you there.” He hiccuped.

“Please talk to me, there’s obviously something wrong.” You pleaded.

Bradley lowered his head to rest on your chest and he sighed, “I’ve… I’ve never ever felt rage like that before. I’ve been in so many shitty situations before but nothing has ever made me see red like that. I thought I was going to kill him, Birdy.” He looked up at you and his eyes were filled with pain.

“I’m so sorry Roo, I never meant to put you in a situation like that.” You whispered.

His hands tightened on your hips as he shook his head, “No you don’t understand, I’m emotional because no one’s ever meant this much to me, to make me lose it like that. I know I’ve told you I love you already, but I think it’s finally hit me just how much. I don’t think there’s a word for it Birdy.”

“You don’t need to find a word for it, I know, Brad, I know. I can feel it. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” You slotted yourself in between his legs, threading your fingers through his golden curls. He moaned softly at your touch and his eyes closed.

“I’m scared to lose you.” He breathed.

“You’re not gonna lose me.” You kissed him softly, and Bradley’s arms circled around your waist. One more tear rolled down his cheek as he deepened the kiss, standing slowly from his seat.

He pressed you up against the kitchen island, as his kisses grew passionate and hungry. He bent down and picked you up by the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the island.

He slotted in between your legs and cupped your jaw, soft moans escaping both of you as you began to grow hot and desperate for one another.

“I want you.” Bradley growled against your lips, and you smirked as you reached back and unclasped your bra. He leaned back as he watched it fall and his hands briefly moved to caress your breasts.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, and then he was pulling his vest over his head.

You loved his bare skin, he was golden and toned and his huge muscles made you feel so small and fragile.

Your hands trailed down his chest to his v-line, and Bradley shivered as you unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down. Bradley was rock hard underneath his underwear, and you ran your hand over him. Bradley twitched and bit his lip as he watched your small hand run delicately along his length, but he had something entirely different in mind.

Pushing you gently back against the island, Bradley hooked his fingers into your underwear and slowly slid them down your thighs and discarded them to the floor.

He lifted one of your feet and began to kiss up from your ankle to your inner thigh, where he stopped teasingly.

His beautiful brown eyes, now black with lust, flitted up to look into yours as he slid two fingers into his mouth and then through your folds.

You gasped as you lay against the cold counter and threw your head back. Bradley growled as your back arched, and he slid a finger inside you, pumping twice before the second finger joined in your warmth. You whimpered as he pumped slowly, curling inside you, but when you felt his lips gently press against your clit, you bucked into him.

You felt him grin against you and then his tongue darted out and swiped through your folds. He continued to pump and curl his fingers slowly as his lips sucked around your bundle of nerves, his tongue taking turns circling and flattening against you, a pattern that quickly had you panting.

“That’s my good girl, cum for me.” He hummed against you, speeding up his movements, his nose teasingly bumping your clit and his moustache prickling your sensitive skin. Wet sounds spurred you on as your legs began to shake and tighten around Bradley’s head, and you felt yourself coming undone, clenching around Bradley’s fingers with a loud, shaky moan.

Bradley felt himself throbbing painfully as he enjoyed the show from his front row seat, but neither of you were aware of the third pair of eyes that also watched from just outside the kitchen window.

————————————

Past:

The months passed and you and Bradley maintained contact, calling one another regularly, which turned gradually to text.

When Bradley went off to college, the texting and calls grew less and less, with the time difference and classes getting in the way. Truth be told Bradley had begun enjoying partying, and that took up a lot of his spare time.

You went off to college not long after and it was then that your schedules really clashed, and your almost hourly texting became weekly, if that, and calls came to a halt.

It’s not that you didn’t think about Bradley, in fact he plagued your thoughts and clouded your mind almost constantly, at first. But then when you’d started your new job, and met Jacob, you finally had something more tangible to focus your energy on, and you didn’t have the time to think about your feelings for Bradley as much.

Bradley also dove into partying and meaningless relationships to drown out his desperate need for you, and the intense feeling of missing you at every moment of the day. But as you began to text less, his pride stopped him from following up with you, and then the texting stopped altogether.

When Carole passed away, Bradley only wanted you there to comfort him, but he was too grief stricken to even pick up the phone. He knew he should tell you, but he couldn’t face breaking your heart the way his had been.

When Bradley found out he’d finally been accepted into the Naval Academy, the first person he thought about was you. He decided that enough time had passed, and he should break the bad and good news to you. He picked up the phone and dialled your number, but the line just beeped and the call ended. He tried to text you but the messages didn’t go through, and his heart shattered. Had you changed your number and forgotten to tell him?

A few months later, Bradley was in the process of moving, packing up his and his mothers things when he came across the forgotten love letter under the chest of drawers, dusty and lonely on the floor.

Bradley suddenly realised what he needed to do, as he dusted off the letter and his heart began to thud.

The plane journey was agonisingly long because he was so desperate to just see you, hold you and finally tell you how he felt. He’d left it far too long, and he knew it was finally time.

The rental car seemingly wouldn’t drive fast enough, and Bradley cursed loudly as the heavy traffic slowed him even more, as if the universe was trying to stop him for some reason.

Finally he pulled up outside your apartment, his heart ready to explode out of his chest, a beaming smile taking over his handsome face, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the love letter in the other. It was time, finally.

He crossed over the small lawn and looked up at the big bay windows of the apartment block, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

There in one of the windows, totally unaware of his presence, stood the love of his life in the arms of another man.

You giggled as the man kissed your neck, and then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you off somewhere deep inside the apartment.

Bradley’s heart shattered into a million pieces, as he dropped the bouquet onto the ground. He’d waited too long, and now it was too late. A thick lump formed in Bradleys throat as he nodded to himself. He scrunched up the love letter in his clenched fist and skulked back to the car.

That was the last time Bradley would see you, until that night in a New York bar, when stars finally aligned.

———————————————

Present:

A few weeks later, you started to feel tired all the time, more emotional, sensitive and nauseas.

You knew you and Bradley had been less than careful, so you told him you were just popping out for a few things and would be back soon.

Bradley kissed you goodbye and you walked the short distance to the local store.

You felt sheepish and awkward as you paid for the pregnancy test and slid the box in your handbag. As you walked back to the bungalow you considered what a baby could do to your relationship. You hadn’t discussed it so you had no idea if Bradley even wanted children.

You were suddenly overcome with nerves, and very very nauseas.

When you walked through the door, Bradley asked you if you wanted a glass of wine out in the garden while he fired up the grill, you refused and said you were going to take a shower.

Bradley thought it was very unlike you, but he knew you were feeling under the weather, so told you to call him if you needed anything.

You disappeared into the bathroom, breathing a shaky breath as you pulled out the box.

You took the test and you waited, waited with bated breaths. After a few minutes you gained the courage to pick up the stick, and you let out a sob.

Bradley whistled as he started the grill, the sun baking against his broad back. He had never been happier in life and things were perfect.

He had a deployment coming up but that was still a few weeks away, so he wouldn’t worry about that until it was closer to the time, for now he just wanted to enjoy the perfect life he had somehow fallen into.

“Bradley.” You said in a small voice behind him. Bradley spun around and smiled at you.

“Hey beautiful.” He smiled, “Are you okay?” He chuckled.

You were smiling at him but you looked like you were about to burst into tears.

“Yeah, I’m more than okay. But…” and then it started, the waterworks, you couldn’t turn them off and you sobbed.

Bradley quickly crossed over to you and pulled you into him. “Woah woah, what’s wrong? I thought you said you were okay?” He chuckled sympathetically.

“I am.” You sobbed into his bare chest. Bradley pulled back so he could look at your face, worry etched on his now.

“Then why are you crying, sweetheart?”

You sniffled up at him and let out a wet laugh. You reached into your back pocket and handed the stick to Bradley.

He pulled in a sharp breath as he realised what he was holding, and slowly flipped it over.

He let out a short chuckle, a hand moving to his head as he stared at the stick.

His eyes grew watery as he looked at you in awe.

“You’re...?”

You nodded, shaking with adrenaline.

“Oh my god, that means I’m…” his voice was shaky.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a dad.” You said in a small voice.

A smile took over Bradley’s face as he scooped you up and spun you around until you stopped him for fear of throwing up. He put you down as you both chuckled through the tears, he cupped your face and kissed you for a long time.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” he mumbled, “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“Are you happy?”

“Are you kidding? I thought life was perfect a minute ago, I was wrong, it’s perfect now. It can’t believe this.” He looked at you seriously, nodding. “Wait, are you happy?”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Happiest I’ve ever been, Roo.”

Bradley kissed you deeply, and when he pulled away his grin grew even bigger.

“I want to celebrate, tonight. If you’re not up for going out for dinner, how about I make us something nice, get some non alcoholic champagne, run a bubble bath, give you a massage, what do you think?” He purred.

“Mmmm, that sounds nice.” You grinned up at him.

Bradley went inside and drew you a bubble bath, little candles scattered all around the bathroom to help you relax.

You made a mental note to call Gabby afterwards to break the news to her too, and then you climbed into the bath and sighed as you relaxed in the hot water.

Bradley promised to be right back, he was just going shopping to grab the drinks and something for dinner, while you soaked.

You heard the front door close and sighed as you felt the lingering nausea begin to pass. You rested your hand on your stomach and breathed out a soft laugh, you still couldn’t believe it, but in all honesty you really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Bradley would be the best dad, you could just feel it.

You heard the front door open and close, and you grinned. “You forget your wallet again?” You called out.

You heard no response, so you sank under the bubbles and floated for a while, enjoying the silent echoes that being under water provided. It reminded you of all the times you’d gone swimming in the sea, a sense of peace and tranquillity that relaxed your muscles.

You didn’t hear when the bathroom door opened, or the dull thud of heavy shoes crossing slowly over to the tub.

The only thing you noticed, was a shadow passing across the candle light behind your eyelids, and your eyes flew open as a pair of hands closed around your neck.

———————————

Still Present:

Bradley whistled as he parked his bronco, hopping out and crossing the parking lot to the supermarket. He had a spring in his step as he picked out two bottles of non alcohol champagne, then scanning the isles for dinner inspiration.

He had steak in mind, but wasn’t sure if that would be too heavy for you while you weren’t feeling 100%, so opted for Fettuccine Alfredo instead with a light side salad. As he browsed for ingredients, he felt a shiver creep up his spine, and his heart began to thud. He took a deep breath and pushed the feeling to the back of his mind as he shopped.

He walked past the baby isle, and had to stop himself from letting out a whoop. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick little browse while we was here, he knew it was still very early, but he wanted to buy something that he could use to break the news to his squad with before he left for his deployment.

The thought of leaving you now was almost unbearable, so he distracted himself as he walked past onesies, baby booties and toys of all shapes and sizes.

He chuckled as he came across a teddy bear with Aviators, and knew he had to have it.

________________________

Still Present:

You struggled under the water as the strong hands tightened around your neck. Your nails dug into your attackers arms as you tried with all your might to pry their hands off of you, quickly running out of air the longer you were held under.

Suddenly you were pulled out of the tub and dropped on the cold tile floor with a heavy, wet thud, and you gasped for the air you so desperately needed.

Your eyes were blurry from tears and soapy bath water, and you blinked rapidly trying to clear them, although you already knew who was in the room with you. You could smell him, his musky cologne one that was etched into the very fibre of every nightmare you'd had in the last few years.

''Jake-'' you spluttered, coughing as the words burned your throat, ''Jacob, what are you doing?''

Before you could even sit up, or try to cover your naked body, his hands were around your throat again and he dragged you across the floor towards the bedroom.

You tried to scream, you tried so hard, but it was proving impossible.

With one hand around your neck, his other grabbed your hair and you were suddenly being hoisted onto the bed and thrown into the headboard.

You began to sob as you quickly covered yourself with the duvet, cowering as far away from him as you could possibly get.

''I heard the good news. Congrats.'' he spat, walking around the bed towards you.

''Why are you doing this? Bradley will be home any minute.'' you sobbed.

''Not likely, plus I may have put the chain lock on the door.'' he grinned, kneeling on the bed in front of you. You couldn't move, your body was frozen, plus you knew if you did, he was too fast and too strong and it would likely make things worse for you.

''Don't cry sweetheart, you know I hate it when you cry.'' He swiped your cheek and you flinched away from him. Big mistake.

His grin turned into a scowl within a split second, and suddenly your head was hitting the headboard with a loud crack. You cried out and again your head hit the headboard.

You felt dizzy and Jacob turned blurry again as you touched your head, warmth covering your fingertips.

He let go of you and crossed to the foot of the bed, bending over and grabbing your ankles roughly, dragging you down the bed. You didn't fight it, you couldn't, your body felt limp.

''Anyway, like I was saying at the bar before we were so rudely interrupted... When you left it really hurt me, it was a stab in the back I really didn't expect, you know?'' he chuckled psychotically. ''You could have at least given me the courtesy to say goodbye, or something.''

You groaned, trying to force yourself up and out of his vice grip.

He pulled your legs again, harder this time and you fell back down.

''We were so good together, Y/N. We could have gotten married, had kids by now, if you'd just fucking behaved yourself.''

You whimpered, ''Help! Please, somebody!''

You felt a sharp slap across your upper thigh.

''Bad girl, I'm still talking.'' he tutted, hardly worried about your cries for help, they were so week and quiet, he was sure no one would hear.

You sobbed, your head was throbbing. ''Why are you here? What do you want?''

''Well, that should be my baby. You should be my wife. This should be my life. He stole you from me, so now I'm going to ruin you for him.''

''Fuck you.'' you ground out as you kicked with all of your force at his face.

Most of it missed, but your heel did catch his jaw and he stumbled back in surprise. You crawled to the end of the bed as he lunged for you.

His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked again with your free foot, managing to just slip out of his grip.

You fell to the floor with a thump and forced yourself to your feet. You could hear him climbing off of the bed and walking around to you, but you didn't dare look back.

Running as fast as you could to the bedroom door, you actually thought you were going to make it, but suddenly a hand was in your hair and a strong arm was wrapping around your waist, tugging you back into the room.

_____________________________

Still Present:

Bradley pulled up the drive, parked the bronco and fished the bag of groceries from the back seat.

He whistled as he walked up to the front door and turned the handle. The door didn't budge, so he figured he must have locked it on his way out after all. He dug in his pockets for his house keys and tried again to open the door. The door opened a few inches and stopped.

Bradley cocked an eyebrow in confusion and put the shopping bag down on the ground. He slid his hand up the crack in the door, and his heart stopped as he felt the cold metal of the chain lock in place.

''Birdy? Did you lock the door baby girl?'' he called.

The house was silent, so he tried again. ''Babe? Can you unlock the door, please?''

Nothing. Bradley began to panic. You had never locked the door with the chain lock before, and even if you had, why weren't you responding.

Without further hesitation, Bradley took a step back and launched himself at the door.

It didn't give way, so he walked further back and ran at the door, throwing his entire weight against it. With a loud crack the chain snapped and the door flew open, hitting the bungalow wall with a deafening bang.

And then he heard your muffled scream, desperate and hoarse.

Bradley ran for the bathroom, but found nothing but a pool of water on the floor and candle wax strewn across the tiles.

''Birdy?!'' he called, and a softer, muffled cry slipped through the bedroom door.

Bradley was on auto pilot as he burst through the bedroom door to find Jacob straddling your naked body on the bed, he was still fully clothed, but he had you pinned to the bed, both of your hands in one of his above your head and his other hand covering your mouth.

There was blood on the white sheets and Bradley couldn't see where it was coming from. His body went numb as he surged towards the bed and tackled Jacob off of you and to the ground.

The two men landed with a heavy thump and immediately Bradleys fist lifted in the air and then swung down, connecting with Jacobs jaw. Again the fist rose in the air and went hurtling down onto your attackers face, and you forced yourself off of the bed, grabbing your robe and quickly covering yourself.

You felt sullied, dirty even, having had Jacob see you in your most vulnerable form, even if he had already done so in the past, you were no longer his to see like that.

You forced yourself onto wobbly legs and stumbled dizzily over to where Bradley continued to beat Jacob.

As you rounded the bed, a glint of something shiny caught your eye, but it was too late, the knife was already in the air and plunging into Bradleys torso before you could even utter a warning.

You screamed as Bradley stopped, a shaky hand moving to touch the knife wedged between his ribs. He pulled the knife out and threw it to the floor, gasping. With one last furious glance at the bloodied Jacob, Bradley's fist connected once more with his face, and Jacob was knocked out.

Bradley collapsed onto his side, gasping for air. You fell down next to him to assess his wound, yours suddenly seeming so trivial, and you wanted to scream as the blood pulsed out of him.

''I- I'm going to call an ambulance, keep your hand there.'' you wept, and ran to the livingroom.

The phone rang for what felt like forever, but finally connected, and then everything went black.

__________________________

Bradley woke up in the hospital bed a week later. The doctors said he'd lost a lot of blood and punctured a lung, he was very lucky to be alive. The first thing he asked for was you, but the nurse said you'd been called down to the police station for another statement, and you'd be back soon.

When you did get back, you cried and held Bradley for what felt like forever. You didn't remember much, but apparently you'd just managed to mutter the address to the 911 operator before you passed out, and by the time they'd arrived, Jacob was coming to.

The scene was a complete mess, with two unconscious and one just barely able to speak or move.

They'd called your emergency contact, who just so happened to be Gabby, and explained the situation. They described the two men you were with, and as soon as they did, she went numb. She told them about Jacob and to not let him out of their sight, and that you'd confirm everything when you woke up.

Gabby got on the next flight to California, and was by your bedside when you woke up.

You told the police what happened and when you were ready they started questioning.

Jacob was now safely behind bars, for the time being at least.

Bradley was terrified to ask, but even more terrified not knowing.

''Is...is the baby okay?''

You stroked his face and kissed his forehead. ''Yeah, they're fine.''

''They?'' Bradley wasn't sure he heard you correctly, and he must still be woozy.

''Yeah, they. There's sort of... two of them.''

Bradley chuckled in happy disbelief, and looked at you like he had never seen anything more beautiful, anything more amazing than you in that moment.

He cupped your face and his eyes locked on yours, ''I love you, Birdy...'' Bradley breathed. ''I've loved you since what feels like the beginning of time, and I'll love you until the end of it. I would have really liked to have done this somewhere less... sterile, and without a hole in my lung-'' he tried to chuckle but winced in pain, ''but I don't think any other moment would be better than this...''

He took a deep breath and grinned, ''Marry me?''

___________________________

The End.

Hope you enjoyed this series and this part wasn't too heavy!

Taglist:

@dizzybee03

@lucyjenniferx

@xoxabs88xox

@pinkpantheris

@italk2god

@shanimallina87

@knight-of-the-doctor

@legolastheleafyelf

@m1llydins

@harrysgothicbitch

@littlezee80

@midnightmagpiemama

[wardenparker]

Win a Date with Javi G, part 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader x Jack Daniels Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.9k   Warnings: Cursing. Food/alcohol. Pure fluff and flirting. A little dirty talk/dirty flirting toward the end. Summary: You and your best friend are huge fans of Spanish pop star Javi G, and she managed to convince you to enter a contest to win a date with the singer himself. No one is more surprised than you when you actually win. ✨🎶🥰 Notes: Hey Guys! It's my birthday! To celebrate, Keri and I conceived of this little one shot that turned into a smutty, kinky, fluffy two-parter and I hope you love it as much as we do. For all the folx out there who remember the movie "Win a Date with Tad Hamilton", you'll recognize the inspiration right away -- and reader's hometown is inspired by the waterfront town from "Bob's Burgers". We're all over the map here! Special shouts also to my darling @julesonrecord for imaging how much glitter Eurovision Pop Star Javi G would actually be covered in at every show.

Your eyes are on the verge of crossing when the phone rings, books spread out on your desk in your home office and countless tabs open on your laptop as you try to piece together this bit of research to send off to your bosses on deadline. You almost let the call go to voicemail, too absorbed in this odd passage from an even odder book, but something inexplicable tells you to answer it. The call is Private, the word splashed across your screen as it continues to ring, and your cat meows curiously when she jumps up into your lap as you hit the green button to accept. “Hello?”

Jack tilts the handset for his desk phone against his shoulder and enjoys the sound of the voice on the other end. It sounds attractive, being in the business long enough, you can tell by a voice if the person is gonna be a looker. “Howdy ma’am.” He greets you and then says your name. “Is it a convenient time for a talk?”

Howdy? You make a face instinctively, wondering why you've got a cowboy calling you in the middle of the day. Probably a telemarketer, but what the hell. You've got time. Your cat meows again and you sit back in your chair to let her settle into your lap to be pet while you're on the phone. "Sure," you say after a moment. "What can I do for you?"

“Jack Daniels ma’am.” He introduces himself with a grin as he twists in his ergonomic chair and looks at the poster that is plastered up on his wall for the upcoming world tour. “I’m the CEO of Statesman Talent Agency.” He hums. “And I’m callin’ concerning a little contest that you entered. ‘Win a Date with Javi G’? Does that ring a bell?”

"Oh!" Shooting up straight in your chair almost tips your sweet cat onto the floor but you manage to recover and hold onto her. "Uh–yeah, yes. Of course." Entering the contest had been a whim. A decision made after too much wine and giggling with your best friend. Spain's Eurovision winner Javi G was trying to break out in America and you had loved the album he released - as well as everything he had put out in Spain that you had hunted down on the internet. Your best friend had been able to talk you into entering after about the millionth watching of his winning Eurovision performance. You definitely didn't think you would actually get a call about it though.

“Good, good,” Jack chuckles as he takes his boots off his desk and leans forwards. “I’m tickled pink to inform you that you have won our little contest.” He tells you. “You will be flown out to L.A. to accompany Javi to the Grammys as well as the Universal Music Group after party.” He rambles. “Hotel and your dress will be provided of course.”

"I—"You almost hiccup, the disbelieving laughter coming out of you right away. "Seriously?"

“Now ma’am, my momma would whoop me if I was leadin’ a young lady on.” Jack grins at your reaction, imagining you are about to start dancing. “We do need to be discussin’ some of the particulars. The NDA and the legal-ese stuff the blaster lawyers like to prattle on about.” He hums. “Plus we need to film your ‘official’ win for the announcement. Are you gonna be free next week?”

"I–um–yes, sir, I am." There's no fucking reason in the world to have called him sir, but the cowboy thing just sinks into your brain and the manners pop out by accident. "I work from home and my availability can be made flexible." Having a conventional job for unconventional employers has its benefits.

“Good, that’s good, darlin’.” Jack might get shit for his sometimes seemingly sexist way of speaking, but it’s not often. “I’ve got your information right here in front of me and will be sendin’ you an email.” He promises. “Congratulations.”

"Thank you very much, Mr. Daniels." There, that's more appropriate. It doesn't help that you're nearly vibrating in your chair and about three seconds away from laughing so hard you scream. "I look forward to hearing from you."

“Real soon, darlin’” Jack hangs up the phone and hums, your social media account pulled up and he’s looking at a picture of you. “She’s gonna be perfect.” He predicts with a grin.

As soon as you hang up the phone you're a giggling mess, hugging your cat and giving her all the scratches in the world as she looks at you with distinct concern. Immediately pulling up your best friend’s contact info to call her, you're not taking no for an answer – tonight is going to be takeout and a bottle of wine and celebrating. For a girl who has never won anything before, this is a very big first.

******

Four days later, Jack sighs as he walks down the stairs of the G5 he had flown to your closest airport. Squinting at the light, he’s delighted to find the car waiting for him. The little perks of having an international talent agency often outweighed the long hours and constant ass kissing.

“Thirty minute drive, Mr. Daniels.” The driver tells him when he opens the rear door to let the man climb into the nondescript black SUV. “Not much traffic this time of day.”

“Is there a lot a traffic…ever?” Jack asks, far too used to L.A.’s horrendous traffic in the years he has spent living there. It makes a normal town seem positively quaint.

“People still have to get to and from work.” The driver shrugs and closes the door, only opening his mouth again when he climbs behind the wheel. “Town’s Art Crawl is this weekend, so it’ll get busy fast.”

“Art Crawl?” Jack would normally be on his phone, answering emails but the driver has piqued his curiosity. “What is that?”

“The restaurants and businesses down on the wharf by the theme park all display art by local artists,” the man explains as he heads for the highway. The address he was given is an apartment on Ocean Avenue, so he isn’t worried about finding it. That’s just downtown. “It’s a fundraiser for I-dunno-what. People buy the art and can donate to whatever the cause is at raffles and things. Always brings in the crowds, though.”

Jack hums. “Interesting.”

“Town’s got a lot of good stuff goin’ on.” The driver continues. Having a captive audience suits him. “Just had a big party at town hall for New Years. Community theater is opening a show this weekend. More Art Crawl stuff.”

“Hmmmm.” Jack reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone. Maybe Seymour’s Bay isn’t quite as small town U.S.A as he had imagined it to be. “Sounds like this place has some culture.” He says, opening his mail. “You like Javi G?”

The driver glances in his rear view mirror. He was given a name, a time, and an address and nothing else. Now this guy in a Stetson is asking him about some pretty boy pop singer? “Can’t say I’ve heard much,” he says with a shrug. “That’s the kind of stuff my fifteen-year-old daughter listens to.” 

“He is going to be touring in the U.S. in the next three months.” Jack tells him, glancing up from his email for a moment. “Tickets go on sale next Monday.” If there’s anything that Jack Daniel’s excels at, it’s promoting his clients. Even if it’s to his driver for the day.

“Yeah?” The man makes a huffing sound, like the wheels in his head needed some extra oomph to get moving. “It’s her birthday soon…”

“Nothing better than tickets for her and her two closest friends to see the concert of the year.” He reaches into his pocket and and pulls out a card. “If you want to really impress her, call that number and my secretary can set you up with VIP passes for a fair price. Meet and greets.”

The rest of the car ride passes with some grateful squawking from the driver and the usual questions about what it’s like to work for celebrities, and by the time the man pulls the car up in front of the big brick building on Ocean Avenue that houses a florist shop on street level and an apartment up above, he probably should have talked himself silly. Instead he pulls the back door open with a beaming smile and waits for this client to exit. “This is it,” he says, excited for whatever is happening that he doesn’t know about. But excited nonetheless.

“Thank you.” Jack nods as he looks at the neat, well kept building. He steps out of the back of the vehicle and reaches for his briefcase, filled with the paperwork that would serve as the agreement for the contest.

The agent’s arrival time was listed in the email you got last night, and you have been hustling all week long to make sure that your apartment is spotless for his arrival. Putting way too much thought into everything as usual, there are tons of drink choices in the fridge, an entire painstakingly assembled charcuterie platter to offer, and a box of macarons from the bakery down the street that makes the best sweets in the entire world. Even Pyewacket is behaving, just lazing happily in a patch of sun on the arm of your leather sofa. You’re dressed decently, styled like an actual adult, everything is perfect. So when the buzzer for your door sounds, you take a deep breath before you answer without panicking. “Coming!” You chirp through the speaker and head straight downstairs.

He waits, looking around the street and peers into the shop to see the bouquets that are on display. They are beautiful, someone with a skilled hand put them together. It’s ideal honestly and he can already see how the promo’s for the advertisement for Javi’s tour will go.

When the back door to the building opens and you step out, you have to hold back a small giggle at first. There’s a man in a Stetson with a Burt Reynolds mustache peering in the shop window right beside your beaten up little car and you clear your throat politely. “Mr. Daniels?”

Seeing you in person, it's even better than your social media page. Your smile is bright, almost irresistible. He reaches up and sweeps his hat off his head and smiles his most charming smile while he says your name. "It is surely a pleasure to meet you."

The features that you noticed from a distance are the least consequential as the man turns to greet you and aims a smile at you that’s brighter than the sun. Oh god, he’s handsome… “It’s really nice to meet you, too.” You put your hand out automatically, meaning to be polite, and motion to the shop beside you. “Beautiful, right? My sister does great work.”

"It’s your sister's shop?" He asks, glancing back over to the window and then back to you. When you nod, Jack grins and straightens up. "Fine work," he praises. "Probably better that most shops that I've seen charge a thousand dollars a setting."

“She ships long distance and does all kinds of special arrangements.” You tell him, puffed up with pride for your hardworking big sister. “I have her card upstairs, and you should pop in before you leave town. Bring something back to your wife or whoever’s at home.”

"No wife." He shakes his head and winks at you. "Yet." He doubts he would ever marry, his life not exactly conducive to having a little lady putter around the house. "But I know that I send flowers all the time to clients and associates."

“I’ll make sure you leave with Kate’s card, then.” Nodding toward the building, you can’t avoid the little shiver that wink gave you, as silly as it is. “Would you like to come up?”

"I never turn down a pretty lady inviting me upstairs." Jack hums, enjoying the way you seem to fluster. You will look amazing on Javi's arm at the Grammys but that doesn't mean that he couldn't flirt with you and pay you a compliment or ten.

It’s just one flight of stairs that opens into your little place, but the meowing is immediate when your black cat pops out of nowhere and starts inspecting the new arrival. “Pyewacket, be nice to Mr. Daniels,” you instruct, giving her fur a ruffle on your way through the living room. “Can I offer you a drink? Something to eat?”

Jack eyes the fluffy black cat as if he might get attacked and edges past it. Never been a cat man, although it seems to be staring at him judgmentally. "I'm good with a drink." He accepts with a nod and looks at the small dining room table. "Perhaps we can go over the contracts and disclosures here?" He asks.

“Of course.” After going through the drink options you end up pouring two glasses of iced tea and setting them down on the clean table. “I understand the basics. Don’t talk about private things that I might see or hear, and to make sure I actually show up at the appointed time and place or legal action can be taken against me.”

"Right." Jack grins, reaching into his briefcase to pull out the paperwork. "There's also a little disclaimer that any and all sexual activity happens with consent of both parties." He winks at you again and shrugs. "Just in case."

“I—um—okay, that’s…” You look at him curiously. “Is that…something that happens? With these things?” It would be the first you’ve ever heard of anything like it — but then again there is also an NDA on your table right now. 

"If you and Javi wanted it to." He admits with a small grin. "Animal attraction and all. This just states that neither you nor Javi are required to provide intimate acts and if any transpire that it is of your own free will."

“It seems way more likely that I’ll overhear something, but I get it. You have to protect your client.” And since absolutely fucking nothing is happening without your consent - thank you self defense classes - you nod and pick up a pen. “So what happens? I arrive at some decent but inexpensive hotel, stylist dresses me so I look halfway decent, and I walk down the red carpet with him then get sent back to the hotel? Quick and dirty, as they say?”

Jack snorts and shakes his head. "Oh no." He hums, sending you a cocky smirk. "You will have a suite at the Biltmore Los Angeles and the stylists will be measuring you the day you arrive to make sure the gowns they pull for you to choose from are your size. We have artists come in to do your hair and makeup following a full spa day." 

“Oh.” That’s a hell of a lot more than you expected, and you can’t help but feel a little special and a lot flustered. “That’s a hell of a way to make a girl feel special, Mr. Daniels.”

"This is a once in a lifetime event, darlin'." Jack admits with a charming grin. "Javi's startin' off his U.S. tour with a bang."

“Yeah, I—um…my best friend and I actually pre-ordered our tickets the day the email went out.” You look down into your iced tea sheepishly, but you entered a damn contest for a date. They already know you’re a fan. “Fan Club early access tickets…”

"Fan club, huh?" Jack chuckles and he bites his lip. "Well, we'll just have to upgrade our contest winner to VIP tickets." He decides. "Can't have the woman who goes to the Grammys with Javi G watching his concert from anywhere but front row."

Sure you could demure and say it isn’t necessary, but you’re not at all going to turn down that kind of offer. The nearest big concert venue to you is a decent drive away and you and your best friend had already planned on having to get a hotel room for the night on top of everything else. It is going to be an extra big deal now. “I’m very happy to be extra positive publicity for you,” you tell him instead, knowing that that is probably his biggest and main concern. It doesn’t bother you one bit. 

"Good." He smiles and nods. "Not necessary but we will take all the social media coverage we can get." He does level you a serious look. "Before the winner is announced...you should probably make security changes to your accounts." He warns. "Just in case."

“What do you mean?” The ink is on the page now, your signature on the dotted line of the contract appointing you the winner of the contest, so you sit up to pay attention.

"Sometimes fans can be...invasive." He's sure he doesn't have to tell you about it if you are part of the fan club but he does want to warn you. "Make sure that you aren't getting random DMs and that you accept friends. I'm sure that as soon as it is announced, you will find you have thousands of new followers overnight."

“It will be a very busy weekend, then, I guess.” The email that had been sent to you said the announcement was coming within days of your contract being signed, so that can only be soon. After all, the Grammys are in three weeks. “I’ll change my passwords and privacy settings and all of that. Lock it down. Thanks for the tip.”

"Don't want this experience to be anything but magical." Jack winks again and snaps his fingers. "Oh! Damn near forgot, Javi recorded you a message."

“Oh, that’s—that’s so sweet.” So what if it was in his contract? Or if it was just a thing he would have done for any person who won the contest? It’s still nice.

Nodding, he pulls out his phone and opens up the video. "I'll send it to you, it's going to be posted on the official Javi G tour site after the announcement of your win as well."

The message pops up on your phone right away while you begin to read the NDA, glad to have just a tiny bit of legal knowledge from this and that over time. This one looks nearly identical to one that you signed for a work event some time ago so you sign it without fear. The last piece is the paper listing sexual activity as unattached to the contest and of the own free will of its participants and you shake your head all over again. How many people really just fall into bed with celebrities just because they’re famous? It seems so silly.

Javier Gutierrez, known as Javi G to his fans, pops up on the screen and he flashes the sweet smile that has melted men and women's hearts across Spain and Europe. Now destined to become a major success in the United States. "Buenos dias!" He waves and says your name. "I cannot tell you how I am looking forward to our date." He seemingly speaks to you, making eye contact with the camera. "Perhaps you will make me not so nervous." He chuckles nervously as he says that and continues on. "We will have a wonderful time at the Grammys and who knows?" He shrugs. "You might inspire a new song, cariño." He blows a kiss to the camera. "See you soon."

“He always seems so sweet.” Who knows if it’s a character or not, but even in his little Instagram posts or things like that, he always seems completely earnest and giddy. Like he can’t believe his good luck or something. “Is there anything else I should know? Before the day, I mean?”

"Javi has requested a brunch, or lunch, depending on how hungover the two of you might be." Jack smirks because he knows that is very likely. "Something simple, low key with no social media. His way of thanking you." 

“No dressers for that, I’m assuming?” You tease because it’s in your nature, but you make a mental note to pack your favourite dress to have brunch in. “I can definitely do brunch. Best meal ever invented.”

“L.A. is the city to have it in then.” Jack sweeps up all the signed paperwork and nods. “You will be sent an electronic version of these papers as well. We just like having physical copies.”

“Sure. Makes sense.” Another nod, as you wonder why this agent came all the way out here himself. “Do you…need anything else from me? Clothing sizes, probably?” There had been no request for physical indicators of any kind in the contest entry, so it’s not like he has them on file unless he’s a creeper.

Jack shakes his head. “The stylist will measure you when you land in L.A.” He explains. “Women’s sizes are so varied from brand to brand.”

“Okay.” Nervous again, you shrug your shoulders and take the last sip of your iced tea. “So is that it? I really have no idea how this works. Obviously.”

“Well…yeah.” Jack frowns slightly and picks up his tea again. “The ticket will be sent to you, we are flying you out two days before the Grammys, then back home two days after.” He shrugs slightly. “What questions do ya got for me?”

“Wait, it’s four days?” You almost startle at that news, but manage to shut your mouth after a few seconds. “Okay, uh…what arrangements do I have to make for myself? Hotel for the other nights? Flight home? Obviously you guys aren’t buying my meals or anything.”

Jack frowns. “Darlin’, I’m sorry, I guess you didn’t read the fine print.” He tuts, shaking his head. “Everything is included. There and back. You are not going to pay for a thing. At least I hope the $300 a day spending money for meals is enough.” They had wanted to make this contest as popular as possible, garnering attention and excitement for Javi G’s tour and it seems as though you didn’t even know what you were getting. 

The disbelieving laugh that that news earns him bursts out of you like an explosion and you end up giggling nervously. “I…had had a lot of wine that night,” you admit. “And I never went back to reread the contest information because I didn’t figure there was any chance I would win.”

“Surprise.” He chuckles and tilts his head. “The prize includes first class flights to L.A. and back, the entire stay at the Biltmore and twelve hundred dollars to be spent at your discretion for food. For four days. And the room service in the hotel is included with the room.”

“I’ll grab a city map and a rental car when I land and I’ll be good to go.” Sitting back in your chair, you blow out a breath and laugh again. “This is a hell of a contest, Mr. Daniels. It’s really a very impressive prize.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “I knew there was something they forgot.” He hisses, shaking his head. “We will make sure there’s a car at the hotel.”

“Oh no, that’s not—!” You bite your lip and hope you haven’t gotten some poor office lackey in trouble. “It’s very generous of you.”

“Convertible okay?” He wants to make sure he smooths over this oversight so you are happy as a pig in the mud when you post your stories online. “Drive down Hollywood Boulevard Marilyn style?”

Nearly choking on the first sip of a new glass of tea, your eyes go wide when you look up at him again. “I—that car? The broken down piece of crap you were standing next to downstairs? That’s been my car for seven years and she has been that bad the whole time I’ve had her. A convertible is insane.”

“Then the videos you post – safely – of you driving it with the wind blowing through your hair will be spectacular.” Jack winks.

“Very safely.” You can promise him that with your hand on your heart.

“It’s gonna be a great trip, darlin’.” Jack predicts. “Javi’s gonna love you and you’re gonna feel like a star.”

“I’m very excited.” It felt like a dream to begin with, but now all this? It’s incredible. It’s a fairy tale.

“Perfect.” Jack thinks you’re beautiful and if he didn’t have this contest that needed to be fulfilled, he would be hitting on you. “Only three weeks until you will be in L.A. and posing with Javi on the red carpet.”

******

The first two days in LA are like a whirlwind, posting things to your social media in between sending texts back to your best friend and your sister, doing as many touristy things as you can manage and eating some of the best food you've ever had in your life. This city is like nothing you've ever experienced before and you're enjoying every second of it. The day of the Grammys is an all-day spa treatment for you until you head back to your hotel room. Room service is waiting for you there, and the team of stylists arrive very soon after. The army of dresses that they have with them are all so stunning that you can barely get a good look at one before you're sighing over the next, and they are ready and excited to get to work.

“Knock knock.” Javi can hear the chattering and laughter inside as he stands outside the hotel room with his suit. His hair is already carefully styled and the stylist that is working with you right now is going to finish his look here in your room. Jack had wanted candid photos of you and him getting ready together.

"Oh my god." Sitting at the vanity in the hotel room in your robe and slippers, you swear you nearly fall over right in your chair. "It's you!"

“It’s me.” The door had been left open, due to the people coming in and out of your suite, so he pushes the door open and pops his head inside. “Can I come in?”

"O–of course!" Making sure you're covered by your robe, you get up to offer him your hand and find the smile on your face is even broader than you thought it would be. He's even more handsome in person...how is that possible?

The stylist quickly takes the suit from Javi, leaving him free to take your hand and pull you in for a hug. “Are you excited? I am excited. What a thrilling night!” He rambles, squeezing you tight and pulling back to beam at you, “Jack was right, but he always is.” 

"Jack was right you'd be excited?" He smells amazing despite it probably just being soap, and he's so warm that it radiates through you like you're hugging a ball of pure energy in the form of a man. Or maybe the form of a Golden Retriever Man.

“Jack was right that you are even more beautiful than your picture.” Javi corrects with a shy smile.

"I..." What the hell do you even say to that, when it's being said by the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life? "Thank you." Lame. "You're–I mean–you're incredibly sweet." Thank god you stopped yourself before you told him that he is beautiful, too. That would have been a hell of a way to start the night.

Javi frowns slightly as he panics slightly. “I did not mean to offend.” He hastily corrects, biting his lip. “I– I messed it up, didn’t I? Now you are uncomfortable and will not want to attend the Grammys with me.”

"Javi..." Surprising both of you, you reach out and put your hand on his arm. "I got tongue tied. I was about to tell you that you look beautiful instead of saying handsome. It's...you did nothing wrong. I'm just excited and very nervous."

He swallows, taking a deep breath and sighing out softly. “I–I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “Normally I can pretend to be more collected but I am nervous.” He admits.

"It's okay." Both of you end up laughing a little, and you step back to let him further into the room. "We were about to have a great debate over which gown to put me in. Do you want to weigh in?"

“You have not chosen yet?” He is surprised but delighted. “Have you tried any on yet?”

"They took my measurements when I got into the city two days ago and now I get to try stuff on and pretend to be a model." It's completely surreal and you're enjoying every second of it, if you're honest with yourself. The fact that people have whole lives like this is insane.

“You will look incredible.” Javi has no problem slipping into the chair that you had just vacated and he taps his chin as he thinks. “Is there a dress that matches my suit?” He asks the stylist. “Or should we not coordinate?”

The woman tips her head at Javi for a moment before nodding slightly and pulling away to sift through the garment bags that she brought. "We can make your accessories match," she tells him confidently. "You have pearl and gold cufflinks and gold horsebit on velvet loafers. For her," she nods to you while she talks. "I have two velvet gowns. Both will work with gold and pearl accessories." One gown is lush black velvet and the other is seductive red, both in vintage cuts. "How about one of these?"

Javi looks to you for your opinion. You will be wearing the dress after all. “What do you think?” He asks, genuinely wanting your input. “If you would rather something else, that is perfectly fine too.”

"Velvet is great. I'm not upset about that option." You're not upset about any of this, and you step toward the stylist with the dorkiest thumbs up known to man. "Let's try both on and see which one looks better."

Javi chuckles and nods. “That sounds like a perfect plan. Shall we have some champagne?”

Champagne. On Grammy night. With your favourite singer of all time. While you try on designer gowns. If you could go back in time and tell Little You about all this you'd never believe yourself. "Absolutely. Let's do it. You pour and I'll be right back."

Javi knows that the bucket of champagne is going to arrive soon. Jack had assured him that he was ordering one for when you were meeting him. Knowing that some champagne would calm him down.

Disappearing for the time it takes to wiggle into the red dress, you glimpse yourself in the mirror long enough that you almost sigh. It's stunning. Reminiscent of old Hollywood, it fits and flares in all the right places and the back hangs low enough to show off a whole lot of skin. Unfortunately, you note as you step out for Javi to see the dress on you, it's a little hard to walk in because it is so form fitting.

Immediately, Javi frowns when he sees your lips pinched together in concentration. “What is wrong with it?” He asks, leaning forward. It’s stunning, to be sure, but he will not have you uncomfortable for the entire night.

Biting your lip just gives you away even further, and you shrug a little helplessly. "I'm not very good at being elegant, I guess," you have to laugh to not be embarrassed. "It's a little hard to walk in."

Javi nods seriously, his brows pinching together. You look sexy in the dress and he knows it is flattering, but if you aren’t comfortable, it’s not the dress for you. “No.” He decides, shaking his head. “I wish for you to be comfortable.” He flashes a grin with a roll of his eyes. “As comfortable as you can get in a formal dress.”

The horror stories of being sewn into red carpet gowns, not being able to breathe, or walking in one specific way all night are thankfully not in your future, and you smile gratefully. “Okay. I’ll put on the other one. Be right back.”

“It is beautiful though!” Javi calls after you, watching you toddle out of the room into the bedroom of your suite.

He’s right, obviously. It’s a stunning gown and gorgeously made, but the one and only time you ever walk a red carpet is not going to be a night you have to hold your breath and tiptoe in order to exist. The black velvet dress is slightly shorter, the silhouette is much more comfortable, and the intricate pattern in the material is accented by an off-the -shoulder neckline that makes you feel elegant without being too exposed. It’s perfect, and you know the second you walk out that the difference is immediate.

Javi sits up straight in his chair, captivated by both the dress on your body and the shy smile that lights up your face. You feel good in this dress and that makes you even more stunning. “Estás preciosa. Impresionante.” He murmurs as he stands. “Yes, this is – it is beautiful.”

“It’s so comfortable,” you barely stifle a giggle, gleeful and unable to really wrap your head around your own good luck. “You, um…you like it?” As surreal as it is to have this monumentally talented international star sitting there gauging your appearance in red carpet fashion, you don’t feel as nervous as you thought you would. As you did right when he came in. He just had such a positive energy about him that it puts you right at ease.

“It’s is perfect, no?” Javi bobbles his head enthusiastically as he looks at the stylist for some back up. “She looks like she is a celebrity herself.”

“She will be after tonight.” The stylist hums her approval. “Sit down, honey. Have a drink, chat, whatever you like. Just don’t move your head a lot while we’re putting your look together, okay?” 

“Drink. Chat. Don’t move,” you laugh lightly at the directions and sit back down again, delighting when Javi himself hands you a glass of champagne. The last two days have been surreal, and this has just leveled up to crazy.

“It is easy to do once you remember not to look at everyone.” Javi assures you, sitting down in the chair that has been set up next to yours for last minute touch ups. It will allow him to chat with you and get to know you before the red carpet. “Are you looking forward to the awards?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” It’s such a once in a lifetime chance for you, what’s not to love? “I have no idea what to really expect, though.” A laugh comes easily but you have to remind yourself not to shrug. “I watch it on TV like most other people, but I have a feeling that a lot of stuff happens that isn’t shown on the broadcast.”

“We will find out together.” Javi admits with a giddy grin. It will be his first American Grammy Awards show and he is looking forward to it. “But we will have fun. I am sure of it.”

“We absolutely will.” Looking at him in the mirror as the stylists go to work on both of you, the whole thing is just…it’s perfect. It’s the story you’ll tell for the rest of your life. That time you reached Peak Awesome by winning a contest.

“And then we have the after parties.” He chuckles with an excited grin. “Sharing a drink with all my favorite artists.”

“Are we supposed to go to certain ones?” You had re-read the contract and contest rules over the last few weeks and there was a lot you had missed in your wine haze when you had entered.

“We will make an appearance for Jack. The main party….” He snaps his fingers, unable to think of the name. “Then we can choose where we would go.”

“Universal Music Group.” You remember that one, considering it’s such a big deal. “Jack did a really amazing job setting all of this up.”

“Jack is wonderful at everything he does.” Javi assures you with a small smile. “He has guaranteed my success in the States.”

“Well,” the smile you aim at him in the mirror is shy. “I already have my ticket for the tour. Jack, um…upgraded it. To VIP. So tonight won’t be the only time you see me, it seems.”

“Wonderful!” Javi lights up happily. “I might have to pull you up on stage with me.” He teases with a small wink. “Croon a few songs while you are there and make everyone in the stadium jealous.”

This man just does not do things by half, does he? It makes you wish you had about three more glasses of champagne to justify this bubbly feeling. “Well…he also put me and my best friend in the front row…so if you wanted to, we’ll be right there.”

“Your best friend? Is she a fan as well?” He asks, his eyes wide and sincere. “Or are you dragging her along for someone to attend with you?”

“She’s a fan, too.” You assure him, watching in the mirror as the stylist carefully sets the curls in his hair. “We watch Eurovision together every year, and the first time you performed for Spain…three years ago? You absolutely should have won, by the way, but we’ve both been fans ever since.”

“Thank you.” Javi still has a hard time accepting compliments, even as long as he has been performing, so a blush darkens his tanned features. “I am grateful that you think so. That is what matters to me, people enjoy my music.”

"There are a lot of us out there." If you thought he was sweet before, now you just want to wrap him up in cuddles and protect him with everything you've got. He's just a nice man who wants people to connect to him, and he's so endearing that it makes you ache. "You have a huge community of fans out there. All over the world."

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ducks his head, causing his stylist to huff and remind him about staying still. “Oh! Sorry.” He catches your eyes in the mirror and winces, although he is grinning slightly.

"I promise, you do." Considering you're a member of that community, you would know. But either way, you beam his smile back at him in the mirror. "There are a lot of people in the States who are very excited to see you come over here. It's going to be great."

“I hope so.” He gushes. “I have always dreamed of coming over to American music billboards. ‘Crossing over’.”

His excitement is so sweet and pure, and you can't help the way your smile spreads and spreads the more you talk to him. "I don't know anything about distribution or profits or tours or any of that. But as a fan? There are so many of us who are so excited about this. I think it's going to go really well for you."

“Fingers crossed as the saying goes.” Javi is grateful that you seem to be such an encouraging person and his eyes light up. “We should call your friend!”

"Would you mind it?" Your phone is out on the vanity in front of you and you had thirty seconds worth of forethought this morning to change your lockscreen from a picture of Javi to one of you and your friend and your sister in her florist shop so that when he nods and you pick up your phone it isn't a cringeworthy moment.

“Not at all. You should FaceTime her!” He insists, eyes sparkling with the excitement of surprising your friend.

"Her name is Esme." You're practically giggling as you tap your phone screen, and grateful when the stylists move him slightly closer to you while they work so that you can both be seen in the small screen. "She's going to absolutely lose her mind. So...just be warned."

“That is okay.” He grins as he leans over a bit more to smoosh his face next to yours in the screen as you try to connect to your friend.

The phone rings twice before she picks up, but Esme is currently cat sitting for you and it's Pyewacket's face that greets you instead of your best friend's. "Hey Pye!" You coo at your cat, who looks confused as hell to see you in a little window instead of all in front of her. "Es...put the cat down and say hello," you giggle, still making faces at your cat.

“Aren’t you calling for a Pye check in?” Esme laughs as the feline jumps down and she turns the camera towards her face. “So how is it–” Her eyes widen and she starts to squeal. “OH MY GOD, Oh my god! Javi G!”

"I'm calling to say hi," you cackle, nearly keeling over in your chair to the dismay of your stylist. "Javi thought we should give you a call."

“Oh my god, oh my god, hiiiiiiiiiii.” She gasps out, nearly about to pass out from not taking a breath yet. “I can’t believe that I’m talking to you!”

"I told you," you smirk to the man beside you, but it's all good natured. Everyone deserves a little love and encouragement, right? His just comes from fans. "Es, you have to breathe, babe," you remind her over the camera.

“I’m so sorry.” She looks stricken for a moment. Embarrassed that she might be embarrassing Javi G. 

“Hello.” Javi finally has a moment to speak and he smiles indulgently into the camera. “Do not be sorry. I am happy to meet you Esme. You have a beautiful name.”

“Y-you’re beautiful,” she giggles, like she isn’t a grown ass woman of thirty. “I mean— ah, my friend is the smart one. I’m okay with that. You’re meeting her, she’s the smart one.” 

“Oh, you’re going to lose it even harder at the concert in a couple of months,” you can’t help but laugh, really. Esme wears her heart on her sleeve and doesn’t apologize for it.

“I will send your friend home with an autograph for you. Is that okay?” Javi asks, raising his brows in question.

“That would be amazing!” Esme squeaks. She would be clapping her hands with glee if she didn’t also have to be holding up her phone. “I’m gonna record the whole thing on your DVR tonight, babe,” she promises you eagerly. “You’ll have it to watch over and over.”

“I will talk to you again before she leaves.” Javi promises before kissing his hand. “Ciao Esme!” He knows they can’t keep talking, needing to finish getting ready and there needs to be behind the scenes photos taken. 

“I love you, honey, I’ll call you later!” You promise her before having to end the call. The clock is ticking and it’s almost time to go. “That was incredibly sweet of you. I know she’ll never forget that in a million years.”

“It was a small thing.” He shrugs one shoulder and gives you an embarrassed grin. “We will have to call during brunch so you can talk longer.”

“Jack said the brunch was your idea?” You ask, setting your phone back on the vanity. “I think it’s absolutely perfect. Brunch is absolutely my favorite meal.”

“I figured that even though the Grammys are exciting, we won’t get a lot of time to talk.” Javi reasons. “But brunch? Brunch is perfect for talking.”

As if to prove his point, the stylists move over to do a full face of makeup on you and just a few small touches on him - bits of eyeliner and glitter that the naked eye would hardly perceive but that enhances his look so much.

Javi grins in the mirror as you open your mouth so the lipstick can be painted on the interior of them far beyond what women normally do. “It should withstand any eating or drinking,” the stylist tells you when she is done, and she puts the tube down next to your phone. “But keep it with you for touch ups just in case.”

“I am glad I do not have to wear that.” Javi hums.

“It’s not so bad.” Lipstick always feels glamorous to you, adding to that elegant celebrity vibe that tonight is giving you, especially after spending all day at the spa. “Besides,” you grin and it wrinkles your nose. “You have more glitter on than I do.”

“To make me sparkle on camera.” He rolls his eyes but he knows the effect will look good on film.

“It’s cute,” you promise him easily. The jewelry and accessories have come out now – the very last thing before you are ready to get into the car to head to the red carpet.

Javi stands and smiles at you. "Now I must put on my own suit to match your beauty."

The whole thing takes less time than you would think, but by the time you’re ready to take pre-show pictures the stylist who is snapping them for you is making silly jokes about adult prom while he does his tie and you check your purse one last time to make sure you have everything. The night is going to be absolutely incredible and you’re starting to vibrate with excitement.

"I must confess." He takes your hand and leans close. "I have been so nervous for tonight that I have not eaten anything." He whispers. "Have you?"

“I’m the opposite.” His hands seem almost twice the size of yours, enveloping yours and keeping you close. “I’ve been nibbling all day to try to take my mind off being nervous.”

"So you would not want a pit stop by In & Out?" He asks, almost pouting at the idea. "I have a wish for their fries and American Coke."

“Well, I think we have to.” You’ve been nibbling today, picking at fruit and cheese, charcuterie and spiced nuts at the spa. As much tea as you could drink. The room service tray was delicious but definitely picked over. But fast food with a pop star is way better than some of the things you had on your proverbial Bingo card for tonight. “I’ve never had In & Out. We don’t have them where I’m from.”

"We can have the driver swing through the drive through on the way." He grins mischievously and nods. "We can experience it together."

“It will make a very silly story in an interview one day. I think it’s an excellent idea.” His phone goes off on the table again, flashing as it sits beside yours, and you see Jack’s name pop up on the screen. “I think you might have some instructions, or hopefully some encouragements, incoming.”

Javi picks up his phone, his face lighting up when he hears his agent's voice. “Rey,” he hums, grinning at you as he speaks. “We are just about to leave.”

“Está bien, zorro.” Jack’s voice on the other end is pleased and honeyed. “Y’all got everythin’ you need? Clothes fit, stylists done their duty? Car should be downstairs waiting for you.”

“Sí.” Javi bobble his head even if Jack cannot see him. His hand reaches up for the necklace around his neck. “We have already taken some pictures, rey. They are fantastico. She is more beautiful that I imagined.”

“I knew you’d like her.” Jack seems satisfied at the choice, and his voice pitches low for a moment. “Now you two behave and I’ll see you at the party. Buena suerte esta noche.” Good luck tonight.

“Sí.” He hums warmly, smiling as he pulls the phone away to look back at you. “Jack will be joining us at the party.”

“Then we better make sure we have fun before that.” Boldly putting out your hand to him, you nod to the door of the suite. “So we can have plenty to tell him.”

He takes your hand and grins. “Are you enjoying your prize so far?”

“It’s absolutely amazing.” And why does holding his hand feel like the sweetest, giddiest thing in the world? Esme’s going to be hearing about this forever, she really is. You could just melt over it. “I still have two more days here after tonight and I just…it’s more than I ever thought it could be. Going home is going to be such a bummer.”

"Where are you from?" Jack had told him the town, but he couldn't remember off the top of his head. You both are out the door and striding down the hallway with the stylists snapping photos of you. Jack probably told them to do that.

“Seymour’s Bay, New Jersey.” It’s a small town that almost no one has ever heard of, and you shrug a little. “We’re a ninety minute drive from New York City, and we have an old style amusement park. Those are about the only notable things from my town.”

"I see." He nods and once you are on the elevator, he squeezes your hand. "So what do you do, Belleza?"

“It’s…kind of weird.” You admit, feeling very schoolgirl in your beautiful dress while the man of your dreams holds your hands on the way to a very fancy party. “I’m a researcher for a podcast. True crime, a lot of history, some supernatural stuff. Sometimes we talk about movies made about true events and what they got right or wrong. It’s basically me and my cat and a whole lot of books.” 

"Interesting." Javi doesn't think it's weird, but he frowns slightly. "Do you do the podcast? Or do you just research for it?"

"I research for it." The frown makes you certain that you've completely weirded him out or made him uncomfortable, and you shrug again. "I studied to be a librarian, but through a series of random events, I ended up becoming a researcher instead. My bosses are great, though, and I can work from home. So it's way better than a lot of other jobs based on just that."

"That is unfortunate." Javi shakes his head. "I think you would be good at the podcast." He smiles. "You have a beautiful voice and I was hoping I could listen to you sometime."

"Anytime you want to hear it, you just give me a call," you joke, never thinking for a million years that he would actually do such a thing.

Javi nods seriously, making a note to himself that he needs to have Jack give him your number. The elevator starts to slow down and he sighs, squeezing your still joined hands. "The car should already be waiting for us."

It is, just as Jack had promised, and the crowd of fans and paparazzi outside that had gotten wind of where he would be are held at bay as you and Javi are ushered quickly into the backseat. More luxurious than any sedan but not quite a limousine, you're glad all over again to be wearing the less cumbersome dress of what you tried on. There is plenty of room to stretch out and be comfortable as the driver pulls quickly away from the hotel entrance.

"I didn't think that there would be so many outside." His eyes widen and he looks back at the crowd that gathered and was still snapping pics as you drive away. "That's crazy."

"Some members of your fandom are...a little more zealous than others." No one was overtly rude or acted out or anything like that, which was fortunate, but it's a very good thing that the car's windows are tinted. The further you get from the group, the harder it will be to pick out your nondescript car from all the other black cars with tinted windows in LA.

Javi scoots forward so he can tap on the the divider between the driver and the you. When the window rolls down, he shoots the driver a grin. "Can we stop by In & Out?" He asks. "We want to grab some food and drinks before the red carpet."

The driver chuckles, obviously having heard this request before, and he nods. "Sure thing, Mr. Gutierrez. There's also some drinks in the cooler built into the seat between you, if you want them. Not sure what Mr. Daniels put in."

"I'm sure Jack put in all my favorites." He grins and nods before he sits back. "Jack stocked the drink cooler in here." He tells you before he reaches for the pull down for the seat.

"He seems to think of everything." When Javi pulls the cooler open there are half bottles of Spanish cava from a vineyard on his home island along with a plethora of canned cocktails in every flavour imaginable and, of course, water bottles. You have to admit to being impressed. Jack seems to be an incredibly thorough man. And that thought turns dirty very quickly.

"He does." Javi nods as he pulls out a bottle of the cava and starts to twist to the wire off the cork to open it. "Shall we share a drink before our fries?" He offers.

"Wine and French fries is actually a combination I've done before," you roll your eyes at yourself. "Because I'm clearly the classiest person you know. But yes, absolutely let's celebrate."

"Cava and papas fritas are a match made in Heaven." Javi insists, popping open the bottle and taking a swig directly from it before offering it to you. "I can open your own if you do not wish to share."

"I'm not fussy." He's charmingly normal, and yet also you don't think you've ever met anyone like him before in your life. He is simultaneously vibrating like an overexcited chihuahua and as laid back as any housecat. When he offers you the bottle you take it, enjoying the heady buzz of more bubbly in your system. Nowhere near even tipsy, you're simply relaxed.

"I must confess." He turns towards you with an earnest expression and leans in close. "I am surprised by how normal you are." His eyes widen, realizing how horrible that sounds. "I mean, how normal you are taking all of this" He rushes out, cursing himself for insulting you. "I would be about to jump out of my skin and you are so cool and composed."

"It's partly the bubbly," you admit with a guilty grin. "But..." Pressing your lips together when you move the bottle away from them makes you look even guiltier, but you can't help it. "I'm just trying really really hard not to weird you out. Like Esme's reaction when we called? I've been doing that on the inside for the entire time."

"Do you want to know a secret?" Javi asks, his eyes widening and he leans in closer to you.

"Very much." And you will keep it secret and safe for as long as you live, just glad to have these memories to hold on to.

"I feel like that all the time." His eyes widen in seriousness and he bites his lip. "I am always anxiously bouncing off the walls and wondering if everyone around me thinks I am crazy."

"How many people have ever referred to you as a puppy to your face?" You ask with a grin, knowing that the majority of the American fandom refers to him as a 'golden retriever boyfriend' with maximum affection. His brow furrows in confusion and he tilts his head to the side as he looks at you. Trying to figure out what you mean by that. "It means you're excitable and sweet and you have really positive energy." The last thing you want is for him to think that you're covertly taking a dig at him or something, because it's completely the opposite. "Your happiness is infectious."

"Oh." Javi nods as he smiles at you, understanding what you are saying now. "Then it is a good thing."

"It absolutely is." You would never have said it otherwise, but you feel a little hazy from how close he is. His presence really is intoxicating.

"I look like a puppy, hm?" He asks, leaning in a little more. "A cute puppy?"

It's criminal the way your heart leaps in your chest, but you're flustering before you can even blink. "I think the agreed upon term is...'Golden Retriever Boyfriend'," you admit sheepishly.

"Golden...Retriever...boyfriend..." He says it slowly, letting the words roll on his tongue. Biting his lip again as he thinks about the nickname that he is apparently known by. "Do a lot of people call me that?"

"I–" You could lie. You could. Or play it off. But you just sort of giggle as he passes the bottle back to you to sip from again. "...yeah. At least, in America they do."

"Maybe I should get a dog." He thinks with a grin. "They have such loving little faces and always love you."

"You should do what makes you happy." It's good advice that you can never seem to follow for yourself, but he absolutely deserves all the good things in the world.

"Do you have any pets?" He asks, feeling the car slow down and turn. He looks out the window and grins when he sees the iconic sign for the west coast fast food joint. 

"The cat in the phone call?" You grin at the excited look on his face. "She's mine. Pyewacket...like the cat from Bell, Book, and Candle."

"Ohhhh, she was pretty." He nods, grinning. "Sleek looking, have you had her long?"

"She's two now and I've had her since she was twelve weeks old." That beautiful black cat is your favourite roommate and only child, and you love having her. "Someday maybe I'll get her a puppy sibling. But the apartment I live in is a little too small for that right now."

"Mr. G." The driver clears his throat. "We are nearing the window. "What would you and your guest like to eat?" He asks politely.

The two of you collaborate on an order in the backseat just in time for the driver to order at the speaker, and only a few minutes later you have a bag between you and Javi's craving for American Coke is being fulfilled. "Should have enough of a drive to enjoy your snack before we get there," the driver tells you, fully amused before he puts up the separator again.

"I'm so excited." Javi confesses, even as he starts opening napkins to start draping over your lap to protect your dress. "I have heard so many good things about this and have not had time to try it before now."

"Are you that busy getting ready for your tour?" It must be an immense amount of work, but you don't really have any bearing on what goes into it. Not really.

"Rehearsals are normally fifteen hour days." He admits with a rueful grin. "Another reason I have been looking forward to the Grammys. It's a break."

"Fifteen?" That sounds like torture, and you immediately offer him some French fries like an apology. "Please tell me you have all kinds of people whose literal job it is to take care of you, because that's insane."

"Jack makes sure that I am well rested." He assures you, smiling at how thoughtful you are to worry about him. "It will get better. Hard work now to insure that the tour is perfect."

"It will be perfect." Of that you have no doubt. He's an amazing performer with incredible talent and dedication. "And I'm glad you have someone to look out for you. I know...people always say that being famous is lonely, and you're too sweet for that."

"It– it can be lonely." He admits, frowning slightly and reaching for his Coke to take a sip of it. "I do not have many friends." He shouldn't admit this to you. Opening up too much, you could tell people even though there is a NDA that protects him.

"Well that's shitty." Turning to face him completely in the back of the car, you decide that the frown on his face is completely unacceptable and you shake your head. "You have one more. If you want to, I mean. You want to talk to somebody, or vent about your day, or whatever, you just drop me a line, okay? And if you ever want to see the lamest town in New Jersey sometime, I'll take you to the broken-down amusement park for the probably-unsafe rides and rigged carnival games."

"Really?" He asks, surprised by the offer. People often want to be close to him, to get things from him, but it's never an offer to just listen. "That is– that is very nice of you." He chokes out, emotional from the gesture.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." In a moment that might qualify as juvenile if it didn't feel so honest and pure, you stick out your pinky finger to him and grin. "Pinky promise. Jack has my number and my email, but I'll give it all to you at brunch tomorrow if you really want it. Friends shouldn't be hard to come by for somebody as nice as you are."

His grin lights up his face and he eagerly hooks his finger around yours. "I know it seems silly to not have friends." He admits. "My family kept me isolated. Practicing to become famous was more important than friends."

"My family put pressure on me in other ways. And I know I don't have any kind of demanding career like you do, but I get it. When they decide they know what's best for you they never let go." Squeezing his finger gently in yours, the two of you are back to your snack in no time. "I do shifts in my sister's flower shop to keep them quiet. The whole family are all florists except me."

"Florists?" His brows shoot up and he hums. "They create beauty and they can't understand why it doesn't fulfill you."

"I am...not very artistic," you admit, picking up another French fry. It's official. In & Out is amazing. "I can appreciate beauty, and music, and art, and theater, and all of it. But I'm not good at making it myself. So sometimes I run the cash register for my sister on busy days or help with shipments. But arrangements? Esme and Kate do all that."

"There is nothing wrong with that." He shoves some fries into his mouth and follows it up immediately with a sip of Coke, moaning at the taste of it combined. "You have to have a sip of Coke with your fries."

It's not exotic for you at all, but he is so excited that you lean over and accept a sip of Coke without a second thought. There really is something so fantastically satisfying about simple, greasy fast food while you're all dressed up that is so much fun. "So are you right back to rehearsals tomorrow after brunch, or do you still have time to relax?"

"I will start back rehearsals next week." He tells you with a grin. "The last week before the tour starts. They don't want me to be too tired at the start of the tour." One more week of practice and then the last week before the kickoff will be spent relaxing. 

"So you have time to relax and enjoy yourself." That makes you nod with authority you definitely don't have. "Good. You should do things with your time that make you happy. Collect lots of memories. You never know where inspiration can strike, right?"

"I am hoping to." He smiles although there is a hint of secrecy in the curve of his lips as he says it. "There are a lot of things that I wish to experience. Especially if I am going to make the move to America permanent."

"Are you?" That rumor hasn't even hit the most in the know members of the fandom as far as you can tell, and you make the motion of an ‘x’ over your chest. "I signed the NDA, Javi. I won't say a word, I swear. But that's so exciting!"

He flushes again, realizing he has misspoken and yet with your hand reaching out to take his, he relaxes slightly. "I shouldn't have said that, but I'm glad someone knows." He admits, knowing that only his people, Jack, know of his plans.

“And hey.” You squeeze his hand gently, a moron he seems to find reassuring. “Even if I hadn’t signed it? We’re friends now. Friends get excited and keep secrets for each other. It’s part of the deal.”

"Thank you." The last few fries are gone quickly and he carefully starts to wipe his fingers free of salt and grease before he checks his suit for any dropped grains.

“Here.” There’s just a few specks of salt on his lapel but you lift them off in the curve of one of the fake nails that the manicurist at the salon gave you earlier today. “There.” There is no stain or mark left behind. No one would ever know you’ve been naughty. “Perfect.”

“Thank you.” He smiles, reaching up to brush a fry crumb from the corner of your lip. “You still look beautiful. And that was delicious.”

“I should check my lipstick, since it’s the one thing the stylists sent with me.” Having him call you beautiful makes you shy. You’re just a normal girl from a normal little town. Not someone Javi G should be calling beautiful.

“Yes.” Javi nods seriously and picks up your purse to hand you, “I will hold anything you need.”

The ride took less time than you thought, and you’re putting away your lipstick and mirror as the car enters the line to deposit you and Javi on the red carpet. “Don’t be nervous,” you encourage, taking his hand briefly. “You’re going to be amazing. I know it.”

"It is show time." He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. Clinging to your hand when you try to pull it away and flashes you an apologetic grin when the moment passes. "Sorry." He hums.

“Sorry.” You instinctively apologize at the same time, and the two of you end up feeling silly but thankfully not too awkward. “If you need to grab my hand on the carpet, go for it,” you tell him, right before the car door opens. You’re not going to be mad if there is a picture out there in the world of him sweetly holding onto you for support. Just a nice man being nice to his fan.

Javi slides out of the SUV, adopting a charming smile and lifting an arm and waving to the first wave of fans and photographers, buttoning his jacket and turning to help you out of the car. While there are porters to help guests out of the cars but he wants to do it himself. Flashing you a smile as he reaches for your hand.

What you see on tv is so different from what is happening the second that Javi helps you out of the car. It’s so much louder than you expected and with so many more people everywhere. Red carpet interviews and photos give you the impression that things are all very organized and to some degree they are, but there are far more people milling about than you ever would have guessed. The two of you are ferried into a sort of arrivals line - as you make it down the carpet there will be certain places to stop for photo ops and for interviews, and there are handlers to make sure that you go where you need to. But the sheer scale of the event is so much greater than you had ever thought watching it from home.

"Here we go." Javi murmurs under his breath as he smiles and starts to wave again. It's big and loud and reminds him of stadium tours while he was in Europe. You are new to this and he keeps your hand curled around his and when he drops his hand down, he pats your hand and looks at you. "Are you okay?"

“I’m great,” you admit, thoroughly surprising both of you. The whole thing is massively exciting and you’re just soaking it up. “How are you doing? Nerves okay?”

Surprisingly good. He is normally way more nervous about things like this but you are calming him down with your down to earth friendliness and happiness. "I'm good." He insists with a smile, leaning in and kissing your cheek before his hand drifts up to touch his necklace again.

The crowd apparently loves this moment, fans nearby cheering loudly to see something so sweet in front of them. “They’re loving every second of you,” you promise him, grinning from ear to ear.

He smiles shyly, biting his lip as he looks at you soulfully. "I should have asked if that was okay." He murmurs, hoping you didn't mind it too bad.

“More than okay.” Hell, for all you care the guy can stick his tongue down your throat in the middle of the red carpet. Fuck…that’s a thought that is going to fester…

He smiles and nods, kissing your cheek again and this time he doesn't flush when he pulls back. The permission gives him confidence and he sends you a small wink before an event coordinator comes over to guide you down the carpet.

For the first real time tonight, that sheet of paper you signed concerning the possibility of sex pops back into your mind. Not because a kiss on the cheek is inherently sexual but because the nearness of him is so intoxicating.

The first few stops fly by. Charming and vivacious, Javi manages to win them over with a smile and his enthusiastic love of everything American and the joy of being here. He displays you just as much as he can, gushing over how he is enjoying being here with you and pushing you to talk as well.

The first reporter to not know anything about the contest is the first one to ask him to introduce his girlfriend to the world. He looks eager to hear all about it, thinking he might be getting a scoop, but despite the hand holding you both shake your head politely.

"She is my date." Javi clarifies, leaning in. "But she is beautiful, no?" He asks, looking back at you. "Won a contest and inspired the next song. I swear."

“I’ll be very excited to hear that song when it comes out.” He surely doesn’t mean it, but it’s still a nice thought to have. “I’m honestly just having the best time in the world.”

"We are planning to make sure we enjoy everything." Javi beams, happy you are enjoying yourself and he hopes that you mean that. You are inspiring his next song. He's already come up with the hook in his head and actually cannot wait to jot it down.

“What kind of everything are you enjoying?” Disappointed to not have unearthed gossip, the reporter digs for more. You’re clearly smitten, even if you are just a fan.

“The show, the parties after.” Javi flashes you a grin. “Tomorrow, we will nurse our hangovers with a delicious west coast brunch.”

“You’ll never want to leave LA after this.” The man chuckles to you, and you can’t shrug or risk looking weird. 

“I already don’t want to leave,” you admit with a blinding smile. This moment is supposed to be for you and yet all you want to do is make it good for Javi. He chuckles and the two of you move down to the next reporter. Smiling as he grips your hand tightly. “He wanted us to give something away so badly,” you grin guiltily.

“He did. Secret relationships are always titillating.” Javi hums, reaching up and touching his necklace again to calm himself.

“Too bad for them.” Still holding his hand, You flash him the same smile that you had the reporter to hopefully reassure him. “Everything’s going great.”

“Let me know if that changes.” He asks softly, wanting you to enjoy this entire experience. “Although they are going to be jealous of me standing beside someone as beautiful as you are.”

"When you write your song, put that in the lyrics," you tease affectionately. "It will be my favorite forever."

“I will.” Javi nods seriously. “The hook is already written. ‘No star shines as bright as your smile’” He sings softly.

"I—I thought you were just...saying that." The flash of a camera isn't as dramatic as a wasted bulb anymore, but there is now one photographer in the world with an picture of you looking at Javi with soft astonishment written all over your expressive face. "It's...it's beautiful," you murmur back, feeling your cheeks heat up so much you might become your own sun.

“You are beautiful.” Javi counters, unraveling your hand from his arm to kiss the back of it. “Inspiration struck, thanks to you.”

******

If he was enjoying himself before the awards, Javi is ecstatic afterward and you are powerless but to roll along with his excitement at the afterparty. His award for Best Global Performance will be delivered to his LA residence and the adrenaline from his win might never wear off. Happiness looks so well on him, though, and he's all but glowing when you walk into the party together.

"I can't believe I won!" He gushes for about the five thousandth time. It's incredible and he's nearly overwhelmed with how many people, famous artists, came up to congratulate him. "Can you believe that I won?"

"I absolutely can," you assure him just like every time before. He's a brilliant entertainer and it isn't the first award he's ever won, but his desire to break America means that winning a Grammy holds enormous importance for him. "You more than deserve it."

"Is that..." His eyes widen and he cranes his neck over the crowd and then ducks down and around The Weeknd to see better. "Is that Gloria Estefan?" He asks in a near reverent whisper. "Oh my god, it is." He hisses, looking back at you almost panicked. "It's Gloria Estefan!"

"You should say hello." He is very near to a kid in a candy store at this party, and while you are just sort of absorbing the glitz, glimmering chaos around the top of you, he has transformed into a fanboy. It's actually reassuring to see – the way he is acting on the outside is very much how you felt on the inside when he walked into your suite tonight.

"No!" He shakes his head and straightens up, looking back at you like you had suggested he spit in her drink. "I could not possibly. She is...she is iconic. I cannot bother her."

"Did it bother you to meet me?" The question is posed as entirely theoretical, and the hint of a smile on your lips tells him you aren't judging him in the least. "Having someone who admires you tell you that you mean something to them is wonderful, Javi. Don't be afraid."

Javi shakes his head, still too starstruck and he looks back at you, “Maybe after a drink, sí?” He asks, raising his brows at you.

"Well, let's get you a drink, then." There are waiters passing by with trays in every direction and a full bar against the far wall, so getting him whatever drink he wants will not be a problem whatsoever.

“How do you feel? Are you still having fun?” He asks, wanting to make sure that he’s not boring you or you wish you were back in your suite.

"The answer to that will always be yes," you promise him. The two of you have gotten used to walking hand in hand tonight, and now it is natural to put your hand in his as you walk to the bar. "What are we drinking to celebrate your victory?"

“Tell me your favorite drink.” He begs, turning those puppy dog eyes as you call them on you and smiles.

"Usually just wine," you admit, albeit a little sheepishly. "Sparkling or even sangria if there's a party. "But I am absolutely open to trying anything." A rule which goes for more than just cocktails, but he doesn't really need to know that.

“Should we try some of the signature cocktails?” He asks, pointing to the placard with a list of yummy sounding drinks. “Jack should be here soon.”

“Absolutely.” The only way to survive winning this contest has been to go with the flow, so you’re just going to roll with that a while longer. People are already starting to drink and dance, catching snacks from passing trays of hors d’oeuvres or from the long buffet of sumptuous offerings along the wall adjacent to the bar. Tables for chatting and resting sit ready but most people seem ready to party. At the bar, a half dozen specialty cocktails are listed with cheeky names and full descriptions. Some are fruity, some are smokey, some sound downright dangerous. It’s all a matter of taste.

"Award Winning Whiskey Sour." Javi decides, looking at the menu. "I think I will start with that." He looks over at you and waits for your decision.

“The Sweet Victory Raspberry Limoncello Cooler sounds like my speed,” you decide with a grin. An open bar with a reason to celebrate always means trying something wonderful.

"Then that's what you will have." He winks at you and darts off to grab the drinks. It doesn't matter that he is the award winner, he is going to treat you like the star since you are with him.

“Javi!” There is a crowd forming and you end up losing the fast-moving Spaniard in the thick of it, but you just laugh and hang back. You’ll stay where you are and he will find you again. In the meantime, this party is incredible and a few covert pictures won’t hurt anything.

At the bar, Javi orders the drinks, smiling at the bartender and he reaches up to touch his necklace as he looks around the crowd, searching for a Stetson.

“Lookin’ for somebody?” Jack’s voice comes from behind his left shoulder, the warm smirk of amusement evident in his honeyed tone.

"Jack!" Javi lights up again, delighted to see him and he lunges forward to hug his agent. "Can you believe I won?" He knows that Jack had kept tabs on the awards ceremony, even if he had been working while he was watching so he could attend the party.

"Of course I can believe it." He had no doubts about it, but he's glad to see Javi happy. Jack pats his star on the back and looks around before raising an eyebrow at Javi. "Where'd our girl get off to? Run away to powder her nose?"

"I left her..." Javi bites his lip and looks around the crowd before he spots you. "Just there." The bartender brings over the drinks and Javi shoves a generous bill into the man's hands. "Can we also get a glass of whiskey?" He asks, nodding towards Jack. "For my friend."

"Enjoying your night?" Jack asks him, honestly wondering if the sweet shows of companionship he saw during the broadcast were real or if Javi was learning how to charm Americans along with everyone else in the world.

"She is wonderful." Javi confides with a small grin, leaning in closely. "Just like you said she would be. I like her, rey. I really like her."

"I thought you would." That news pleases Jack, who presses a bill into the bartender's hand when he comes back with his whiskey. "She signed on the dotted line, ya know," he reminds Javi under his breath. "Could be a well-deserved way to celebrate."

"Does she know?" Javi asks under his breath, reaching up and touching his necklace again. "What that entails?"

"Not yet." Jack shakes his head and picks up his drink, holding it to his lips a moment and considering the next course of action before he drinks. "If you'd like to tell her, we can. But I'd say let's see how she dances before we go invitin' her to the rodeo."

"No." Jack's idea makes sense and Javi nods. "I want to see her dance. Plus I need to deliver her drink."

"Then lead the way, zorro," Jack murmurs quietly, a smirk gracing his lips.

Javi smiles as he moves through the crowd of people, nodding and slightly awestruck by some of the people who greet him by name. He doesn't stop, eager to get back to you with the drinks and with Jack.

You get one more discreet picture in on your phone before you see Javi reappear with a distinct Stetson-wearing mustachioed cowboy behind him, and you quickly pull up your text messages to fire one off to Esme to cover up the fact that you were being an absolute fangirl for the five minutes he was gone.

"Jack is here." Javi rushes out with a happy smile on his face as if the man's presence behind him isn't announcement enough.

Murmured thanks to Javi for delivering your drink come with a broad smile, and you are right back to beaming when you turn to Jack. "You must be very proud tonight."

"Pleased as punch, darlin'." Jack hums, sending you a small wink. "Only a few things that I can think of that would make me happier and it wouldn't be polite to speak about that in public." He winks again and takes a sip of his whiskey.

When your smile turns shy it seems to please the cowboy even further, and you take a sip of your drink with a happy hum before looking back to Javi. Not that Jack isn't damn fun to look at, but it's Javi's night. "What are you thinking, Javi? Grab something to eat? Get on the dance floor?"

"Dancing." Javi sneaks a look over at Jack before back to you. "I wish to see how you move." He smirks, taking a sip of his whiskey sour and biting his lip.

Well damn. Get a couple of drinks and an award win into Javi Gutierrez and suddenly he's all but purring at you in front of his agent. While a prouder woman might have played it off or demurred, you have reached a point in the night where not caring anymore is a virtue. There are no paparazzi inside this party. No fans to speak of other than you or a few other lucky guests. So Jack is here? Fuck it. Jack's a flirt, too. "Well, come on, then," you toss him a grin after taking a long drink of your cocktail. "I'm sure Jack won't mind guarding our drinks for a few minutes."

Jack chuckles and takes your drink from you, making sure that his fingers linger over yours and he practically coos at you. "Enjoy yourself now, darlin'." He encourages, grinning at you like he's the cat that is edging closer to the canary.

"I'll try to keep up," you tease Javi as he leads you out onto the dance floor. Considering how many of his performances you've seen on television, you know how well he can move. It really will be trying to keep up with a pro tonight.

Jack watches with interest as Javi pulls you into his arms and starts to move. It's obvious that you are infatuated with Javi and he doesn't blame you. It's a part of his charm, his ability to draw people in.

The song has a beat to move to, thank god – something hip hop and Latinx that makes for fantastic party music at the beginning of a night. There are no speeches here, no cameras to pose for, only people enjoying themselves, so that is exactly what you decide to do when you put both arms around Javi's neck. When are you ever going to get a chance like this again in your life? Never is when, so you're damn well going to enjoy every second of it for everything it's worth.

Javi laughs breathlessly as he twirls you around and dips you. Happy that your dress allows for you to move so easily. He wouldn't have been able to dance with you like this if you had worn the red dress. And it would be a shame to not get to press his body to yours like this.

"I think we picked the right dress," you laugh breathlessly, obviously having the same thought as him at this moment. This fairy tale - your fairy tale - keeps getting better and better at every turn.

"Depends on how it looks on the floor." Javi teases, pulling you closer and flashing you a grin.

"I–" The shock on your face is abundantly evident. For all the teasing, or flirtatiousness, or even the fleeting sweet moments you've shared tonight? Neither of you has been as bold as to make that kind of comment or make any intentions known. On your end it seemed utterly ridiculous to even think he would be interested, assuming his gestures to simply be those of a sweet man with good manners. But maybe it is actually more than that? "Now that is a very interesting question," you admit, lips curling up into a grin.

"Sí?" He asks, eyes widening slightly in shock as if he is surprised that the line actually worked. Jack's presence has given him confidence that he normally does not possess or represses because of his poor self esteem, but the grin on your face captivates him. "You would like to find out? With me?"

Thinking about it for a second, you end up surprising yourself and laugh a little right out loud. "You know..." you shake your head in amusement. "I was really about to say that I was only serious if you were actually interested in me for me and not in some wish fulfillment thing about fucking a fan. But honestly? I don't really care what the motivation is. I'm one hundred percent on board. We'll dance, we'll drink, we'll go back to the hotel and have a night. Why the hell not?"

If you had told him that he was the world wide star, top of the charts for all the countries, he couldn't have looked any happier about your agreement. "Yes!" He crows happily and pulls you even closer to kiss your cheek. Since you are in public, he would not cause a scene.

He is nearly crushing you to him as he revels in your agreement, and you have to admit - this whole contest, this trip, this night, all of it - it's so surreal that why shouldn't it include sleeping with an internationally known musician that you've had a crush on for literal years? That's completely tracks with the tone of the whole thing. Esme and Kate are never going to believe half of what actually happened even before this.

When the song ends, Javi pulls away and he searches your eyes. "Do you want to stay?" He asks. "Or do you want to go?"

"Jack won't be upset if we don't stay longer?" After all, you had really only been here for what feels like a few minutes. Perhaps it was as long as a whole half hour, who knows. And Jack seems like a man who prefers to do things 'right'.

"Why don't we see what he wants to do?" Javi asks, taking your hand and leading you off the dance floor. "I need my drink anyway!"

There is definitely something you're missing here, unless Javi is about to ask his agent's permission to take you back to the hotel, but since you're already decided to just roll with it you let him drag you back to the table where Jack is waiting and gratefully accept your drink from the tall, dark, and handsome Southerner when he offers it back to you.

Javi is nearly bouncing on his toes with anticipation, grinning as he takes his drink from Jack and tosses it back quickly. “I would like to go back to the house, rey.” He tells Jack before he turns to you. “Unless you would be more comfortable in your hotel room, of course.”

"It's where my stuff is," you point out needlessly. "But nobody ever died because they were embarrassed about a walk of shame."

“There’s no shame in that walk, darlin’.” Jack smirks, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Maybe a little hitch in your step dependin’ on how hard you’ve been ridden is all.”

"Traditionally is it not the lady who does the riding?" Throwing caution to the wind, you have another sip of your drink and tilt your head at Jack. "What's the song? Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy?"

“Oh you are perfect, darlin’.” He chuckles, leaning in and chucking your chin with his fingers. “How’d you like to find out?”

For a second you freeze, not sure that you've understood him correctly, and you look between the two men to find Javi looking just on the edge of nervousness and Jack smirking confidently. Well that's a surprise... But really, is it a bad one? Hell no. Cowboy Burt Reynolds is a look you didn't know you were into until a month ago when Jack Daniel's showed up at your apartment, and you're just going to throw up your hands and go with the flow. "Ya know what?" You toss back the end of your drink, enjoying the way the bubbles go straight to your head - you're making the decision with a clear head but you might be a little floaty by the time you get back to wherever you're going if you have another. "Sure. Let's go find out."

“Really?” Javi’s eyes widen happily and he reaches for your hand, “You know he is talking about…” He looks around and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Both of us, sí?”

"I understood that part," you promise him, squeezing his hand just as you have every other time that he has been nervous tonight. "And I've got no clue why you're asking, or why you're asking me, but since I'm never going to get an offer like this again?" You shrug again and end up laughing a little. "Let's go."

“You will not regret it.” He promises you, turning and beaming at Jack. “I want you to know that you have the most exquisite taste, rey.” He hums. “I feel relaxed already.”

"Okay." Setting your glass down on the table beside you and picking up your evening bag instead, you look between them curiously. "I thought your name was Jack?" You ask quietly. "Not Ray?"

Javi flushes and he ducks his head in embarrassment, reaching up and touching his necklace. Jack chuckles and decides to answer for him. He sets down his whiskey after he drains it. “Not ‘Ray’ like ‘Howdy my name’s Ray’.” He explains. “‘Rey’.” He exaggerates the punctuations slightly. “My little zorro named me his king the first night he skipped a step or ten on his own walk of shame.” 

"Zorro?" As far as you know, that's just a guy in a mask with a sword running around Mexico in the movies, but clearly it means something different. Whatever it means, though, one thing seems to be growing clearer: Jack is much more than just Javi's agent.

“Fox.” Jack smirks, reaching out to run his finger down Javi’s smooth jaw with tender affection. “He’s my sexy fox, isn’t he?” He asks, looking up at you. “Or foxy?”

The absolute hard right into unbelievable that an already crazy night has taken makes your whole body feel like it's been instantly set on fire and like your system has been flooded with instant arousal all at once. Jack is his dom...that makes so much sense... "He's been very good tonight," you tell Jack, humming a little to see how Javi lights up at the praise. "He should definitely be rewarded for it."

“That’s good.” Jack coos, smirk growing wider when he sees that you understand the dynamic and are either intrigued or approving. “I bet his cock is aching for some attention, isn’t it, zorro?”

"Por favor, mi rey," Javi turns his wide eyes on Jack, the very same ones he has used on you multiple times tonight. The party is so raucous all around you that barely anyone has even noticed you, and the three of you seem to have entered your own little world anyway.

“Now that you know this…” Jack turns his dark gaze on you. “Are you still willing to go home with us? The agreement doesn’t cover me. But a good old fashioned verbal consent will do.”

"I thought it was a little weird when that page was in with the others, but...anything can happen in the world, right?" You smirk at Jack, feeling far bolder than you ever thought you could. "Now I see you were just being thorough for your man. That's very considerate, Jack. And...I think that deserves a reward, too."

Jack arches a brow and a slow smirk rides across his face. “What kind of reward are we talkin’ about, darlin’?” He asks, interested in see what you think is a reward.

Cheeks on fire, your eyes slide away for a second to compose yourself so you can look back at him. "I was really hoping you'd just be impressed that I was being cheeky and I'd have the car ride to think up something creative," you admit sheepishly. "Called my bluff."

He tosses his head back and laughs. A deep, belly laugh that rolls through his body. Javi squirms slightly, his own grin on his face and Jack finally looks back at you with pure admiration in his expression. “Good for you, darlin’.” He chortles, reaching out and pulling you close so he can whisper in your ear. “Might have to spank you for that, but only if you want me to.”

There’s no way he can know that he’s offering you something that you very much enjoy, but he’ll most likely be able to figure it out by the way you reflexively shiver a little at the suggestion. “We should get going,” you tell them most, nodding with as much authority as you can. “Sounds like our own party is going to be far more fun.”

“Oh it will be, darlin’.” Javi whimpers in agreement with Jack and he takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “You don't seem surprised.” He murmurs as Jack guides you both towards the exit.

"I decided about ten minutes ago to just throw up my hands tonight and go with the flow, so I'm just leaving all of my confusion and surprise for tomorrow when I think about what happened." You lace your fingers through Javi's and offer him a smile. "I basically have decided that all of this is just an amazing dream and so anything can happen."

"That is a good way to look at things." Jack hums, his hand sliding to your back as he leans close. "I thought I was dreaming the first time Javi begged to suck my cock, now I hope to never wake up." He teases. "Why don't we go see what kind of fevered dream we can cook up for you?"

______

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[violetbranwen]

Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 23 - Drunk Sex Vampire!Frankie x Reader

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog that writes porn with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: Drunk Reader (dubcon but established relationship), Twilight references (to piss off Frankie) Vampire sex, Vampire bites, Unprotected PiV (sort of), vampire vibes, oral F receiving, biting, vampire bites. Let me kow if I missed anything!

Part 1 here: [Can be read as a standalone but there is some context you might miss if you don't read part 1] Read on Ao3 Support me on Ko-fi or Patreon! Thank you @pastelnap for being my ride or die <3

You stumble through the door to Frankie’s apartment, shushing yourself in the way drunk people do, making decidedly more noise than if you’d just kept your mouth shut.

“Mi sol?” Frankie’s voice startles you and you yelp, falling over yourself as you try and get your shoes off. You’re hunched over, determined to stay on your feet, for some inexplicable reason.

“Go back to sleep!”

You hiss into the dark apartment, giggling to yourself as you finally get your left shoe off, before starting on the right. Frankie turns on the living room lamp and you groan in protest at the sudden burst of light.

“You know I don’t sleep, hermosa, do you need help?”

You hesitate before looking up to see Frankie smirking down at you, dressed only in olive-green sweatpants and – of course – his Standard Oil baseball cap. You roll your eyes at the ensemble, but you can’t deny, no matter what Frankie wears, he’s gorgeous.

“Please.” You whine as you give up, plopping down on the floor unceremoniously as you watch your boyfriend saunter over to you with an amused grin on his face.

“You look like you had a good time.”

Frankie’s thick fingers ghost against your skin as he undoes the tiny little buckle on your strappy heels that bested you in your inebriated state. You hum as the mere brush of his calloused palm on your ankle sends heat driving to your core.

“The best, Damien scored, and Lisa and I caught up, her baby’s almost a year old, can you believe that?”

“That so?” Frankie encourages you softly as he pulls you up to your feet, steering you to the other side of the studio apartment, settling you on the kitchen counter as he gets you a glass of water, some juice, and a snack.

“Yup, still looks like a potato though,” You hiccup, and Frankie lets out a soft snort at you, “Not sure why people think babies look cute, they’re all…” You make a wiggling gesture with your fingertips and scrunch your nose at him as he brings over the snacks and drinks, “Wrinkly.”

“Dios mío,” Frankie chuckles as he pops open the Ziplock back of high protein snacks and pops something salty into your mouth, “Children are a blessing mi sol.”

Something in your drunken brain takes the statement too much to heart. You feel tears welling in your eyes as your heart clenches painfully at the thought of not wanting kids.

“I’m sorry Frankie.” You sob as you swallow painfully around the lump in your throat as you wash the bitterness down with a swig of water. Frankie is between your legs in a flash, you’re still not used to how fast he can move, and you wince slightly. His hands rub gently over your bare arms, coarse skin catching delightfully against your own softness.

“What are you sorry for mi sol? For being drunk? That’s not something to apologise for, you were having fun-,”

“For not wanting your babies.”

Frankie’s hands still on your biceps and you look up to see sadness pulling at his brow, his eyes glistening with shame as his lips part gently. It’s funny when Frankie does something so ingrained in muscle memory like sigh because very little actual air comes out, yet the hard-wired expression of exasperation remains.

“We’ve talked about this, even if I- if we, wanted children it’s not possible. I don’t have the tools for the job, haven’t had them for over a century. I have made my peace with that, and I am glad you don’t want them, it makes it easier for me to reconcile it.”

“You sure?” You sob, well aware that snot is dribbling over your lip.

“I am very sure, I was simply trying to say, maybe, just maybe, don’t call your best friend’s baby a wrinkly potato.”

“I would never to her face!” You gasp dramatically at the notion, and you smile as you see Frankie’s eyes sparkle with amusement. You narrow your eyes at him as you wipe the tears and mucus from your lip.

“There we are, I much prefer when you glare at me like that, rather than crying over something as silly as thinking you would lose me over something neither of us can control.”

“When you put it that way I feel like an ass.”

You pout and cross your arms over your chest, immediately feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment wash over you.

“But you are my ass.” He grumbles into your hair as he wraps his arms around you, pressing you against his chest and you inhale his floral body wash as you press soft kisses to his bare skin.

“About three things I am absolutely positive,” You start, a shit-eating grin forming on your lips, “First, Francisco is a vampire.”

“Mi sol, what are you doing?” Frankie grumbles as you snicker against his chest, mouthing lightly at his left nipple.

“Second, there is a part of me – and I don’t know how potent-,”

“Mi amor please, stop. Not the twilight quoting again.”

“That part might be – that thirsts for my blood.”

“Seriously, you’re being so lame right now.”

 “And third, I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.”

There’s silence as you wait for him to scold you, to threaten to make you shut up with some lewd act involving his dick or his mouth. But it doesn’t come. You lean back and look up to see shock on Frankie’s face.

“You love me?”

The realisation hits you and you feel the colour drain from your cheeks.

“Uh, well, it was the quote and, well, yes I guess- I guess I do.” You fumble as you give him an awkward grin, teeth bared as you wince a little at your drunken admission.

“I love you too, so much.”

“I love you too.” You breathe as you lean up to press your lips against his, it’s a gentle, tender brush of lips as you snake your hands around his neck. You twist your fingers into the soft curls that brush his skin there.

“I know. You just told me so, by way of a twilight quote.” Frankie chuckles softly as you part, looking down at you with hungry, but kind, eyes.

“Asshole.” You grumble but you’ve already noticed the hard press of his cock against your thigh, you smirk and tug on his hair a little firmer than you would normally. He groans and crashes his lips into yours.

His fangs slide out and he makes sure to nick your bottom lip before gliding his tongue over the shallow cuts.

“You sure you’re sober enough for this hermosa?”

“I am, I promise,” And it’s true, you want this, bad, “Plus, I’m sure you can siphon off a little of the alcohol in my system to help a girl out.”

You roll your head to the side, exposing your neck where Frankie can just about see the evidence of his bite from last week. The marks too acute for the human eye to see, but he sees them like shining stars on a cloudless night.

“Fuck you’re a bad girl.” He groans as he drops his head to your shoulder mouthing gently at your pulse point as he glides the blunt curves of his fangs over your skin. You whine at the way he licks a long, slow stripe up to the shell of your ear, his strong nose buried into your hair as he takes a deep breath in.

“I’m your bad girl.”

“I’m not fucking you on the counter after confessing my love to you, come on.”

Frankie hoists you up, wrapping your ankles around his waist as he strides towards your bedroom. The same bedroom that he fucked you – and fed from you – in six months ago.

Frankie crawls into the middle of the bed, somehow managing to manoeuvre your combined bodies so that you’re straddling him. The sound of fabric tearing has you pulling back from Frankie’s lips. You furrow your brow as you look down at your ruined dress. He’s torn it completely from your body, leaving you in just your lacy panties and bra.

“Oops.” He chuckles before reaching for your panties. You catch his wrists just as he starts to tug at the lace.

“Francisco no! I love this set.”

“Fine.” He draws out the word in mock exasperation as he tips you backwards, your head resting just short of the end of the bed. You giggle as he brushes his lips up each thigh, starting at the inside of your knees. His facial hair scrapes blissfully against your tender skin as he makes his way up to your clothed cunt.

He takes his time, lingering here and there, laving his tongue over the trail of previously marked skin; some as large as freckles, others pinpricks. Evidence of the thousands of times you have let him feed on you, most of the time when he had you spread out for him like this.

But sometimes, when he’d had a bad day, or you were feeling extra generous, you’d let him feed. Drink from you for something deeper than sex. It was an act of service on your part, and you know you’ll never grow tired of having Frankie drink from you.

“Always so good to me, mi amor, look at the constellations adorning your skin. Star maps of our devotion.” Frankie murmurs against your skin

“Christ, Lord Byron, I told you I loved you, not that I pine for the fjords on a winters day waiting for your love.” You tease as you secretly enjoy it when Francisco waxes lyrical with you, you know it comes from a long dead, former version of himself that breaks through when most incensed.

“Points for trying, but I know part of that is a Monty Python bit.”

You feel the harsh scratch and burn of Frankies fangs on your inner thigh as he scolds you. The rush of warmth and arousal is instantaneous as his saliva soothes and warms your very veins. Frankie taps your left ass cheek softly to indicate you to lift your hips so he can remove your panties. You do as you’re commanded and take the chance to unclasp your bra and fling it across the room.

“Checking one last time, mi amor, you sure you want this?” Frankie hovers over your exposed core as he waits for you to answer you look down to see the picture of demonic divinity.

Frankie’s hair curls in perfect waves around his face. His eyes are tinged with crimson flecks which scatter through those dark brown depths. His mouth is smeared with your blood, fangs jutting out, tipped with smudges of red. You reach down with one hand, cupping his jaw, scratching your nails through his patchy facial hair.

“I’m sure, I love you Frankie, please, take what’s yours.”

Frankie hums contentedly as he licks a thick, broad stripe through your slick folds. He latches his lips on your clit as he sucks gently, two fingers already prodding at your entrance as your back arches up. You pant and whimper as his fangs catch on your delicate skin as he gets sloppy, devouring you like a man possessed as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you, alternating between scissoring and curling up into your g-spot.

“Come for me.”

Frankie’s voice is low as he uses the tip of his tongue to trace erratic circles over your clit. You come blindingly hard around his fingers, walls clamping down as you cry out in a broken snarl. Your vision blurs and you clamp your eyes shut, pleasure erupts from your core, bleeding through your body like a spill of hot wax, cloying, lingering, lasting.

“Good girl, so good to me.”

“Please Francisco, make love to me, bite me.” Your voice is a pathetic whimper, but you like how you sound, wrecked for him already, but of so eager for more.

“As you wish mi sol.”

Frankie lifts you back up into a kneeling position as he pulls you onto his lap, lining you up over him as he slowly pushes you down onto his cock. You gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as his girth stretches you out. You writhe and moan as Frankie takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Want to go nice and slow, want you to really feel me.”

“Fuck,” You grunt as he seats himself deep inside you, filling you up as you wrap your legs around his waist loosely, “Love this position Frankie.”

“Same, so deep, so intimate.”

His lips leave your nipple, and he pulls your head down, crashing his lips into yours as he picks up the pace a little beneath you. His hips roll up into you as his free hand drops to your clit, his broad thumb pressing hard, slow circles against your swollen bundle of nerves.

“May I bite you?”

“Yes, always yes, but thank you for asking.”

You let your head loll forward onto Frankie’s shoulder as you pepper soft kisses to his skin, sucking and nipping at his flesh when thrusts hit particularly deep, or he pressures your clit just right.

Frankie mouths your skin gently, licking hot stripes over your skin as he savours you before he seemingly finds the sweet spot. Pleasure rich pain bursts in your neck, flooding your system with euphoria.

“Oh fuck yes, Frankie fuck me harder please.”

Your nails dig into the tan expanse of his back as you cling to him, his thick length fucks into you deeper, faster. You feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein as your pussy clamps down on him tightly. His mouth leaves your neck, and you pull back enough to capture his bloody lips in your own. His saliva and your blood transfusing into a sickly cocktail of iron and sweetness as your body fully succumbs to the aphrodisiac singing through your system.

“I love you, so much, be mine, forever?” Frankie pants as he picks up the pace on your clit, his hands on your hips, slamming you down to meet his frantic thrusts as he feels you tighten around him. The room is full of your breathy moans, and you nod in earnest.

“Yes, you have me Frankie, forever.”

He grunts low as he fucks up into you a few more times. The sound, the pressure on your clit, and the way Frankie’s cock simply wrecks you has you coming hard around him. He whines softly as you push yourself down on him, not letting your bodies part for even a second as he spills inside you, thick ropes of come filling you to the brim as you press your forehead against his. Cool – but not cold – skin meets your clammy forehead, and you smile absently at the juxtaposition.

You kneel there in silence for some time, hands roaming over well-worn tracks that you could trace in the dark. Frankie’s hands mirror your own, mapping you out as if for the first time, but you know it’s habit by now.

“Come on, you need something more to eat,” Frankie gently eases you off him, pushing you onto your back against the pillows, “Don’t move.” He orders as he lifts your hips up, sliding a thick pillow under your ass so that none of his spend leaks out.

“God that’s so fucking hot.” You grumble to yourself and yelp when Frankie calls from across the apartment in response.

“For someone that doesn’t want kids you sure sound like you have a breeding kink.”

“Fuck you, Francisco!”

You yell out into the studio, but your lips are spread in a broad smile as you know he’s right.

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[stephsbridgerton]

Confessions

My take on how the Lady Whistledown reveal between Pen and Colin could go in s3p2!

TW: Angst

Let me know if you want a second (smutty) chapter in the comments!

Thanks to @barbiewritesstuff for betaing!

Check this story out on Ao3!

Pen was breathless by the time they made it to what she assumed was Colin’s room. Her panic did not allow for her to take much of it in as she turned to face him in the soft light of the moon.

“Colin,” she said, her voice breaking on a sob,”I-”

His eyes were icy and his voice hard, as he cut her off,  “How could you? How could you expose Eloise? Marina?” 

Penelope closed her eyes, taking a breath, her answer surprised even herself, “Because I love you, I’ve loved you from the first day we met. You fell off your horse and even though you were covered in mud, you laughed. You showed me kindness when others would have been cruel.” 

“Pen-” he started, confusion and shock painted his features. 

“Please,” she replied, her voice rough and broken, her eyes pleading with him to let her explain. 

At his silence she continued speaking, “Marina was using you, when my mother found out she was pregnant they decided to trick a young man into marriage and hoped that he wouldn’t notice when the baby came early. I tried - I did everything I could think of. I - I couldn’t let them use you Colin…” she trailed off as she broke down in sobs, hugging her arms to her chest. 

Warm arms enveloped her in a tight hug, “Shhhh,” he breathed into the top of her head, “It’s okay Pen, I-” Colin let out a shuddering breath, “I didn’t realize how far her scheming went.” 

Taking a deep, gasping breath, Pen nodded, trying to calm herself enough to continue, once she had quieted her crying, Colin prompted her again, “What about Eloise? Does this have to do with your apparent falling out?”

A lone tear fell on to her reddened cheek, her heart breaking as she continued to lay her sins bare to him, “She had drawn the attention of the Queen. She thought El was Whistledown, she threatened to ruin your family. I knew that if what El was doing was printed, the Queen would leave your family alone. I didn’t want to publish it, and I published a tame version of the events at that, but I did it to protect your family.”

With that she stayed silent, the occasional hiccuping breath escaping the confines of her lips as a steady stream of tears flowed down her face. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, especially with the next statement that left her lips, her voice nothing but a pained whisper, “I would understand if you felt differently now. If you travel for a year I’m sure the scandal would die off, I won’t pose a threat to your future.”

She felt his grip loosen as he pulled away from her slightly, “Pen,” he whispered, as he lifted her chin with a finger, their gaze connecting as he made a confession of his own, “I love you, I’m sorry it took me so long to see it, to see you. I would be a fool to let you go. Let me protect you, as you have protected my family and I.”

The shock of his confession found Penelope on the verge of sobbing again, but the quivering of her lip was put to a stop as Colin crashed his mouth down on to hers, their kiss all consuming, sealing their fate together. 

Colin broke away first, “Pen if I had known, I -” 

“Shhh,” she said, placing her finger on his lips to silence him, “It is alright,” she said with a sad smile.

He brought a hand up to pull hers from his mouth, “No, it is the farthest from alright,” he said, his hold on her getting just a bit tighter than before, “God, you were protecting me, and Eloise, and look how we have treated you. Hell, up until ten minutes ago I was ready to dance on Lady Whistledown’s grave.” 

“You didn’t know,” she said, “I couldn’t tell you, I had to protect you, and El, if the Queen finds out who I am, everyone we know will be threatened. Colin, are you certain you still want to marry me?”

Pen’s heart stopped as his look turned almost dark before she felt his hands shift lower, from her waist to her bum, and she let out a surprised squeal as Colin picked her up with ease, her legs wrapping around his trim waist on instinct and her hands clutching at the back of his neck. 

“You are my dearest friend, and fierce protector, there is nothing that will keep me from marrying you now,” he said, his voice deep and heady, “I only wish I had plucked up the courage to tell you I was interested in you as more than just a friend sooner, much sooner” he ended in a whisper, his lips seeking hers out passionately.  

Footsteps in the hallway brought their embrace to a stand still, Colin’s grip on her vice-like as they both held their breath, the footsteps fading down the hall until they were left in silence once again. 

Colin quickly put her down on her own feet once more, “Forgive me Pen, I should not have- You are too precious to me for me to treat you this way, now and in the carriage, I am a gentleman, I should-” 

Pen gripped his collar with her fingers and pulled him down into a softer, slower kiss, “I find I am not sorry in the least,” she said, a smirk finding its way onto her face. 

Puffing out a laugh, Colin’s gaze fell from her lips to her breasts, and on down. She felt his hands shift on her waist, turning her until her back was tucked tightly against his front and she could feel the hard planes of his body against her feminine softness. Penelope’s breath caught in her throat as she saw them standing in the mirror. 

Colin’s hands framing her hips, his lips pink and slightly swollen from their passionate kissing, how tall his frame was in comparison to her own. While Pen wasn’t one to be caught admiring herself in the mirror, she couldn’t keep her eyes from taking in her own flushed cheeks and chest, how her lips looked slightly puffy and darker than usual, and how dark her irises had become in the face of their passion. 

She continued to watch as Colin traced a finger from her ear, down her neck and across her shoulder, to the strap of her dress, the roughness of his voice surprising her, “I do believe we have some unfinished business, Pen.”

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | November 20th-26th 2023

107 DAYS UNTIL SEASON 7 PREMIERE!!! I'm so excited!!! 😃

Also! I just hit 100 followers! Thank you guys! I hope you enjoy my recs :)

Complete

Ruin Me Like Castle Walls and Burn Me Like a Village by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Dragon Eddie | 6K | Explicit): When a call goes wrong, Buck sees a new side to Eddie, and starts to realize a lot of things about his best friend. And himself.

🔥 The Monsterfucker's Symphony by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, Mermaids... and more | 57K | Explicit): A collection of smutty oneshots featuring Buck or Eddie (or both) as a non-human creature.

🔥 and here, too, am i by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Future fic, Married Buddie | 41K | Teen): Six months into their marriage, Eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows Buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks.

you’re everything that I want, but I didn’t think I’d find by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Post-S6, Proposal | 2K | Not Rated): Eddie is so in love and proposes to Buck on Christmas Eve. (sequel to come close, let me be home)

all i ever wanted comes right down to you by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)/ @lover-of-mine (Getting Together | 3K | General): Eddie is very dramatic in his pining and Buck overhears something that changes everything.

🔥 stranger sunlight, still by mmtion/ @mmtions (Catfishing/Secret Identity | 64K | Explicit): When the 118 find out about Buck’s secret thirst account on Instagram – to raise fire safety awareness, obviously – they make fun of him the appropriate amount and move on. Eddie finds it a little harder to do the same. Of course, Eddie would never invade Buck’s privacy by searching for and finding the anonymous account. Or looking at all the uploaded photos late at night. Or even directly messaging Buck’s secret account. That would be weird, because he’s certainly not planning on doing anything about his newfound attraction. However, anonymous account @elbombero118 has no such limitations.

🔥the evan buckley matchmaking agency by mmtion/ @mmtions (Season 5, Feelings Realization | 28K | Mature): Buck tries to set up Eddie. It goes well for absolutely no-one involved. 

wanna lose my mind in a hotel room with you by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 4K | Explicit): "Think you’ll ever have that kind of love?” Eddie asks as he leans against the wall with a beer in his hand at Maddie and Chimney’s engagement party. He’s got a fond look on his face, if not a little wistful as he turns to face Buck. “I hope so,” Buck says with a small smile on his face. He’s pretty sure he’s already got half of a love like that standing next to him, he just isn’t sure if it’s reciprocated. “I-I really hope so.”

hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (PWP | 2K | Explicit): Eddie hiccups. “Just tell me,” he groans. “Come on, how bad could it be? Hic!” “Rectal massage,” Buck says, the words tripping over each other like he just wants to get them out as fast as possible. “Apparently, there was a guy who stopped hiccuping after rectal massage. And this is in, like, Healthline, so it’s probably legit—”

impossible to know (if after this we can still be friends) by lecornergirl / @clusterbuck (Getting Together | 1,7K | General): Hen sighs. “This better be an emergency.” “Does Buck turning up on my doorstep and saying he’s in love with me count as an emergency?”

this is gonna be one of those things by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): It turns out he only has about three seconds of proper bull-riding in him before he’s tumbling to the floor. Hen and Chimney are bent double with laughter, but Eddie only looks at him, smirks, and says, “You’re doing it wrong.” “Like you’d do any better,” Buck shoots back, and Eddie gives him the most unimpressed look.  “You’re forgetting something,” he tells Buck as he mounts it. “I grew up in Texas.” 

my hands are shaking from holding back from you by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (S5E18, HenRen Wedding, Getting Together | 2,5K | Teen): So now Hen and Karen are renewing their wedding vows, and Buck is—Buck is a lot of things, but he’s mostly worried about the concept of Eddie in a suit. Buck is, after all, only one man. He’s a little worried it might be too much for him to handle.

Podfic

🔥 [Podfic] dream of some epiphany by MistMarauder/ @mistmarauder from a fic by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Canon Divergent, Pre-Canon, Pen Pals | 45-60 mins | Mature): Evan Buckley is lost. It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center. Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name. Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

WIP

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 9/13 | 43K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

in my head by yourcatfishfriend/ @your-catfish-friend (Friends With Benefits | 6/8 | 23K | Explicit): Buck is confidently bisexual. Eddie isn't sure. Buck helps him figure it out.

[britany1997]

Hello, may I ask for a scenario where David is very angry and SO brings Dwayne to calm him down? Maybe a smut?

Thank you ♡

Creature Comfort

Hi! Of course you can! I didn’t do smut for this because I really wanted to focus on the angst-> fluff of the story, but I’m happy to do a smutty part 2 if you request it! (Update! Read part 2 here)

Poly Lost Boys x GN reader, David x Dwayne centric

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of blood, physical violence, lots of derogatory language

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you,” David spit at Paul as he slammed him roughly against the wall of the cave. Tears streamed down your face as you looked on in horror.

Paul had taken you out on his motorcycle earlier that night. He had been trying to get David to let you go with him all week. Usually you were confined to his or Dwayne’s bike and after months of being shut down, Paul was sick of David “hogging the babe.”

Desperate to show off, Paul had sped around Santa Carla, taking daring jumps and performing dangerous tricks. It would have been fine but as the night worn on and you’re energy was drained, Paul popped a wheelie and you fell right off the back of his bike, scraping your arms and legs.

Paul had got off his bike immediately and rushed over to make sure you were ok. Impressively, his eyes had stay trained on your face and not your cuts as you bled onto the pavement. He apologized profusely telling you again and again how stupid he had been, and promising he would never risk your safety like that again.

Once he finally did look you over to see the damage his face had paled. The blood, that ordinarily would have been so appetizing to him, seemed to disgust and horrifying him. You found yourself reaching out to comfort HIM even though you were the one hurt. The cuts weren’t too deep, and while they had hurt, you knew they’d heal quickly. But you knew that regardless of how little you were actually hurt, David would be livid.

You were right. As much as you had tried to clean yourself up before you and Paul arrived back at the cave, David could smell the smallest drop of blood from a paper cut. You knew if he smelled the blood he would gaze into your mind immediately and see what had happened. There was no hiding what happened from him. As soon as you had set foot in the cave, David had paul up against the wall.

“You Idiot!” David yelled his eyes flashing yellow and his fangs poking out of his mouth, “do you even realize how bad it could have been? You could have killed them!”

“David stop, please!” You begged as you looked on in horror, “it wasn’t his fault.”

“Stop defending him!” David turned to you and yelled, still holding Paul up against the wall, “did you forget I can read your mind? I know it was his fault.”

“You’re a worthless excuse for a mate Paul,” David said sternly, “you don’t deserve them. Mates aren’t like a joint you can just toss away. You were supposed to protect them and you were careless.”

Tears rolled down Paul’s cheeks, “I know,” he said, “I was supposed to protect them and I failed, I’m so, so, sorry.” He apologized while looking pitifully at you.

You clamped a hand over your mouth as you could still feel tears rolling down your own cheeks. Paul had been showing off, but he didn’t deserve this.

Probably roused by all the noise, Dwayne walked into the main hall of the cave from his alcove.

“Hey, hey, hey baby,” Dwayne said to you soothingly, “what’s going on, how can I make it better?”

You hiccuped as you looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. You pointed at David and Paul, “talk to him please,” you begged Dwayne.

Dwayne watched as David continued to berate Paul and Paul withered in on himself, lost in his own guilt.

Dwayne sighed and kissed your forehead, “I’m sorry baby,” he said, “I’ll take care of it.”

Dwayne walked up to Paul and David and ripped them apart.

“What the fuck?” David asked Dwayne pointedly.

Dwayne ignored David’s attitude, “go take care of them,” he said while gesturing at you, “they’re not mad at you. Go hold them, they need it.” Paul wiped his eyes and nodded before gently carrying you away to his alcove in the cave. Before you left, Dwayne mouthed ‘I’ll handle it’ at you. You relaxed into Paul’s arms, Dwayne’s promise letting you rest easy.

“You’re undermining my leadership,” David spoke at Dwayne through gritted teeth. “We can’t just let that go. He’s careless and he takes stupid risks. He’s going to get them killed.”

Dwayne sighed, “do you really think he’ll ever pull something like that again?” Dwayne asked. “He may be a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but Paul loves them just as much as I do, just as much as YOU do. We can trust him with them.”

“But that’s not why you’re really upset,” Dwayne stated, “tell me what’s wrong baby, I wanna help you.” He said while sliding an arm down David’s shoulder until he was holding his hand.

David stared at Dwayne and sighed, his brows furrowing. “They’re just- humans are…” he sighed, “they’re so fragile.”

Dwayne exhaled sharply.

“I mean we haven’t had to worry about the implications of mortality in years,” David chuckled without humor. “And now what? Some psycho comes up and shoot them? A car crashes into them? They fall off of fucking Paul’s motorbike???” David felt tears prick at his eyes but he quickly wiped them away before they could fall. “And then nothing. No coming back, no eternal life with us, just nothing.” He whispered as he stared at Dwayne and sighed “Human life used to mean so little to me, but now? How do humans get through the day? Knowing it all just…ends.” David asked.

Dwayne took a deep breath, contemplating an answer silently before finally replying “I guess they do what we’ll have to,” he said “take it one day at a time, make every moment special. At least until eternity, if that’s what they want.”

David laughed bitterly, “we can’t just choose for them?”

“Love isn’t demonstrated through force Davey, you know that,” Dwayne told him smiling sympathetically.

“I know,” David sighed, “I know.”

Dwayne led David to the couch and held him in his lap. The boys sat in comfortable silence for what felt like hours, until David started caressing Dwayne’s chest and kissing his cheek softly.

Dwayne laughed quietly before raising an eyebrow. “Mmm you still feel upset Davey? Need Daddy to take care of you?”

David pulled back a bit and raised his eyebrow “Daddy?” He asked.

“Oh? Did you forget?” Dwayne asked, “need me to remind you baby?”

David smirked, “I think I do,” he replied.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Note: apparently all I have to do to have the energy and time to write is tell y’all that I’m not gonna be positing for a while lol🤦🏻‍♀️

Taglist:

@misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @altierirose @solobagginses and @6lostgirl6 (for the angst)🖤

[turtle-babe83]

👋Hi I just wanted to tell you that you're an amazing writer and that I love your work 💕 I as also wandering if you could do a smutty fluff with an insecure reader and a loving bf Raphael. Maybe with 59, 100, 101, and 116?

Anyway I love all the cool stuff you do and have a nice day/night❤

I love this request ♥️♥️♥️ sorry it took so long to get it done! I appreciate your patience!! 😘😘 I kind of assumed female reader, hope that’s okay!

Eye of the Beholder

Raph x F!Reader

Warning: Language and NSFW content 18+ only

You glared at your reflection. Just out of the shower, you stood before your floor length mirror and eyed your stretch marks with disdain. You pinched the extra inch around your middle and sighed heavily. Your gaze only saw your “flaws” and you wanted to hide from your own judgmental stare. The sound of your window jiggling open pushed you into action, grabbing your robe and putting it on quickly. There’s only one guy who would be coming to see you in that manner.

“Raphael,” you greeted your muscle-bound boyfriend.

His green gaze trailed over you heatedly. You wanted to shrink. Pulling the robe tighter around you, you took a step back. Raph lifted his brow as he noted how uncomfortable you seemed.

“Everything alright, shorty?” he asked quietly.

“Sure, why wouldn’t it be?” you lied.

He took another step forward and you instinctively moved back. He gave you a knowing look.

Raphael sighed, “I can’t help ya if ya don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You gnawed the inside of your cheek and averted your eyes. Why did he have to see so much?

“It’s just…well…wouldn’t you rather be with someone skinnier?”

Your question was met with silence. You shifted your gaze back to his face and instantly wished you hadn’t. His jaw was clenched tight and eyes narrowed. You’d seen that look before but never directed at you. Your heart sank in your chest. He must have realized you were right. You knew this day would come eventually but it still hurt terribly.

“I-I’ll get your things for you,” you mumbled, voice cracking.

You turned away but before you made it one step, he grabbed your wrist and jerked you back around. Your gasp of surprise was cut off when he smashed his mouth to yours. The kiss was full of fury and a hint of desperation. Your insides tingled as he pushed his tongue past your lips to taste you fully. You felt yourself starting to melt into him when his arms slipped around your hips and waist. You stiffened unconsciously. Raphael growled and pulled back.

“Stop this bullshit,” he fumed. “Why the fuck would I want anyone else?”

He grabbed the ends of the belt and pulled, allowing your robe to fall open and reveal your naked form. A flush covered your body and your mouth dropped open.

“Look at ya! What guy wouldn’t want a piece of this? Yer so soft and sexy, and hell, ya take me like a champ,” he paused as a thought hit him. “Is this why ya always want the lights off when we fuck?”

A sob broke from your throat and you covered your face in shame. Raphael felt his heart breaking for you and pulled you flush against him. His hands rubbed up and down your back soothingly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Babydoll, I think yer beautiful. I love yer body, every last curve. Let me show ya,” he murmured wiping the tears from your cheeks.

You hiccuped and sniffled, then you whispered, “O-okay.”

Raphael finally smiled. He tugged you over to your floor length mirror and slipped the robe off your shoulders.

“Watch us. Don’t take yer eyes off me fer a second.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He caught your gaze in the reflection and held it as he peppered soft, moist kisses across your shoulders and neck. He worked his way down your back and playfully nipped your ass. Kneeling on the floor behind you, he nudged your legs wider apart and angled himself so that he could stretch his long tongue between your thighs to lick at your center. Staring into the mirror, you saw his pink tongue slide through your folds and then back several times, rubbing your clit on each pass. It was stunningly erotic to see his larger body behind you with a perfect view of him tasting your cunt. Replacing his tongue with a thick finger, he mouthed the spot where your thigh and ass met, leaving purplish bruising along with the imprint of his teeth. His digit sped up, thrusting deep and fast, and you felt the band in your lower belly tightening. How did he always get you so close so quickly? You stiffened and moaned as your release crashed over you, and he smacked your thigh when your eyes drifted shut.

“Keep watching,” he rumbled. “Look at tha goddess in that mirra. An’ I’m the lucky bastard that gets ta worship her.”

Your eyes snapped open and you saw yourself, body flushed and dewy with sweat, your eyes darkened with lust-blown pupils, your breasts swaying from the rocking of your hips as he finger fucked you through your orgasm. For a moment, you could see it. Like Venus rising from the clam shell, pure feminine beauty. Then you caught Raphael’s eyes brimming with desire and best of all, love.

“Bed. Now.”

You hustled to obey his gravelly orders as he grabbed your mirror and turned it towards the bed. Then he pushed his shorts and underwear to the floor and climbed up on the bed with you. He kissed you soundly and then he positioned you on your hands and knees, taking his place behind you. His hands kneaded at your ass, then smoothed around your soft belly and up to cup your full breasts.

“Feels like ya were made for me. I ain’t a small guy, but ya take everything that I dish out,” he said, pinching your nipples and causing you to moan. “Forget snacks, yer the whole fucking meal…and I’m famished.”

With that, he started pushing his wide girth between your folds, groaning at the tight fit. You mewled as he touched places inside you that only someone of his size could. Sex with Raph was always good, but a part of you had held back each time before, scared of him feeling your pudge and being disgusted. A gentle but firm tug on your hair made you lift your chin.

“Keep watching, baby. I’m gonna fuck ya so good and yer gonna be my good girl and keep yer eyes on the mirror.”

You whimpered. You couldn’t help it. The woman staring back at you in the mirror looked thoroughly debauched, unbelievably sexy, and with his first strong thrust, she looked happy. Your breasts swayed and bounced as he set a rhythm, and you watched as he bit his plush bottom lip in bliss. He was watching as well, enjoying the view as the two of you rocked together. You pushed back, panting as desire made you bold. He was still staring at you and licking his lips, eyes trailing your reflection with hunger. Suddenly, he hooked an arm around your ribs and pulled you up flush to his plastron. The other hand went to your clit and he licked a path up the side of your neck to your ear.

“Look how gorgeous ya are with yer legs spread and my cock inside ya.”

Your eyes dropped to where you could see him thrusting up, his dark member glistening wet with your creamy juices as he plunged into your heat. His finger circled your nub, and he nibbled your neck, sending chills down your spine.

“Raph!”

“That’s it, baby. Let it go. Look at us. I’m fucking an absolute goddess. Still gets ta me that ya let me touch ya like this,” he groaned. “Cum fer me again.”

He quickened his thrusts and pressed harder against your pearl, until your legs stiffened and back arched with a loud wail of his name. He followed soon after, filling you up, before collapsing with you on the mattress. He pulled you into his arms and immediately began to press soft kisses to every bit of skin within reach. You couldn’t help your giggles.

“Raph, I don’t, god, I don’t deserve you.”

Raph pressed a finger to your lips.

“Hush that. That’s supposed ta be my line,” he chuckled, then his look turned serious. “Listen, I get insecure sometimes, too, ya know? But I don’t want ya ta eva doubt how I feel about ya. Yer my girl. I love ya.”

This time, your eyes misted with happiness and you snuggled closer as you murmured back, “I love you, too.”

♥️

@waterstar2016 @leosgirl82 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @nittleboo @sharpwindow @androidships007 @raisin-shell @tmntspidergirl @thelaundrybitch @mysticboombox @zowise2912 @zombiesnips-blog @xanadu702 @hotredphoenix @happymoonangel @tmnt-tychou @forerunnertracer @aurora-the-kunoichi @imthegreenfairy88 @coulrofilia-sexuell @raphslovemuffin80 @raphaelsrightarm @ravn-87 @ashleighclark98 @raphielover @turtlesmakemehappy @fyreball66 @thelostandforgottenangel @lilyssims @slasherblog @sewerninno @scholastic-dragon @pheradream15 @8pmblackcoffee @drowninghell @fluffytriceratops @dilucsflame33 @s-s-ironnie @rheawritesforfun @chicchanmooshy @roxosupreme @lunar-corgimon @bunnyraptor69 @ladyofparchments @morning-sun-brah @lec743 @sketch-and-write-lover @turtlebros4u

[sunwarmed-ash]

SS Poll Winner: The Eden Club

Can't say I'm not surprised. Thank you guys for being so patient with this one, it's coming along! Here's a smutty preview as a treat

🔞😈🔥

(sinful sunday deferred this week, I have a craft show)

Here are also two other sneak peaks of the last chapter I've already posted: preview 1, preview 2

Ch 16: Take this to your grave, and I'll take it to mine.

The first couple days after the truth(s) comes out and the three are left with no choice but to process, are tough on everyone as they attempt to regulate back to baseline. But it's worth it, because as it turns out, none of them are happy when  one part of the triangle isn't.

It's October now, Gavin’s more or less moved back into his house and Sumo’s happier than a fucking clam now that the house is full of sound and body heat again. Hank returns that sentiment. He can honestly say he’s been feeling more like a whole person again. 

Tonight, they are all sitting on the couch watching the first season of True Detective, because Gavin insisted. Now that they are suspended, they’ve got alot of free time. And too much free time for Hank or Gavin can be dangerous. Hank finds himself already falling subject to plotting Reynolds ultimate demise every free moment he gets, but for Con’s sake, Hank’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. Because no matter what, if his actions hurt Connor more than it helps him, Hank ain't gonna do shit. 

And speaking of Connor, the android next to him is flushed and Hank can hear his internal fans kick on, working overtime by the sounds of it to cool his suddenly overheating system.

“You okay Con?” Hank asks, concern growing by the second. 

“Yes,” Connor lies, tight lipped. His cheeks are bright pink, even Hank can even tell that in the evening, tv lit darkness. 

“You sure? You're flushed,” Gavin points out. 

“Ye-s” Connor hiccups, pupils dilating, clearly focusing on something that was not in the room. “V’s… sending me… pictures.” Connor finally confesses with a very specific kind of pant.

Hank feels his cock twitch in his pants as his grin splits his face.

“Pictures eh?” He asks.

“Whoa, like dirty pictures?” Gavin asks, voicing Hank’s suspicions.

“...Yes,” Connor gasps as he seemingly gets another one. “Fuck,” Connor whines and his fingers slip over the fabric of the couch cushion he’s sitting on and squeezes. And then, when another came through Connor sobs and the thin material under his fingers tears audibly. 

“You just get another?” Hank chuckles.

“Yeeees,” Connor gasps, eyes staring forward, “A video. Fuck, Hank, I’m sorry about the couch.”

“So we buy another one,” Hank shrugs because a replacement couch is the last thing on his mind. 

“Can you tell us about it?” Gavin asks hopefully. 

Connor is quiet for a moment, and then, 

“Fuck. Y-Yes.”

“Can we touch you while you do?” Gavin asks and Connor lets out a strangled sounding moan.

“Please,” Connor begs, his knees rubbing against each other in efforts to get some much needed friction. 

“What are they doing?” Hank asks, taking over the dialogue while Gavin sinks to his knees in between Connor’s legs. 

“Playing with themselves,” Connor pants, sitting on his hands to not cause any further casualties.    

Gavin’s hands make quick work of undoing Connor’s pants and pull them down to his feet. Hank’s moves a little closer too, resting his large hand over the back of Connor’s neck, chuckling when the androids skin peels back automatically to expose the port. 

“How are they playin’ baby?” Hank asks, starting his own teasing trail across the sensitive port with his fingertips without ever pushing inside.  

Connor’s entire body shudders under their combined touches. 

“They’re fucking into a fleshlight, telling me how it’s nothing compared to my ass.”

“I mean, they’re right,” Gavin shrugs before moving to lick the first drops of pre cum dripping down Connor’s cock.  

Connor moans loudly. 

“Can I send V a picture of you?” 

Connor’s question causes a joint groan from both Gavin and Hank. 

“Phck yeah,” Gavin says, “hang on though, let me get in position.” 

Connor and Hank assume Gavin’s just gonna change his stance on his knees. Instead he pushes Connor's bare legs apart, as open as they can go before sucking down every inch of Connor’s cock into his mouth. Gavin then makes a show of locking his wrists behind his back before looking up at Connor with the biggest, neediest eyes anyone’s ever seen. Surprising the hell out of them both.  

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ Gav,” Hank pants, breaching the port in Connor’s neck with just the first knuckle of his finger. 

“Oh my god,” Connor agrees, “please, d-don’t stop, either of you,” he begs and then suddenly he’s shuddering through an unexpected orgasm. Gavin’s mouth continues to suck him through it. Mouth torturing the head until Connor pleads for him to stop. 

Hank’s finger comes free of the port and rests on the back of Connor’s neck, waiting for their android to come back online. 

“You know I’ve never asked this but is this shit safe to swallow?” Gavin asks, now 10 seconds too late if not. 

“Yes,” Connor laughs, post sex grin on his face, “it’s a non-toxic lubricant.”

Hank chuckles and kisses Connor’s temple, the side where his LED used to be. 

Gavin is still on the floor, and Hank wonders if he’s waiting for something. When Hank finally makes eye contact with Gavin he just juts out his chin towards Hank’s crotch. When Hank’s eyebrow raises in question Gavin says,

“Take em off.” 

Hank did not need to be told twice.

[zeroducks-2]

Can we get um. Can I have a. Heavily pregnant Barry being fucked by Wally? Please

😳

🙏🏼

You can 🩷

(smutty smut under the cut, pregnant sex, omegaverse)

There's something about the way he's still somewhat petite, lean muscles supporting a small frame made heavier by the pup in his belly. He needs to support the swell of it while he's face down in the nest, one arm wound around the bump as if he was clutching it to his core, while the other hand pulls and twists the bedding as Wally keeps his thighs spread apart, and both his holes exposed to lap and suck at them.

Spearing his tongue through either has Barry whine with his legs quivering, his scent thick and overly sweet and his pussy so wet it's almost dripping. He's possibly even more sensitive than while in heat, and just like when he was in heat, he doesn't seem able to finish without a knot.

"Please..." He whimpers into a pillow, hips rolling to get friction but it just isn't there.

Wally caresses his side with a hum and then smacks a full palm on his pussy, rumbling pleased at the way Barry cries and hides his face, but the tip of his ears still turns a bright, embarrassed pink.

"I'm going to knot you enough times you'll fall asleep on it." Wally says and dips two fingers into his wet passage, fitting them to the root. The third finds a bit of resistance given how much his walls are twitching, overstimulated. "And I'll keep at it while you're down, so you'll wake up still on my knot." He's moving his fingers now and Barry shakes his head, hard to say if at what he heard or because he's so close.

The fourth finger is a tight fit, and Wally rotates his hand and closes it in a fist, growling in response to the jerks of Barry's hips and his little cries as he locks around the hand, the right nerves stimulated enough to feel like a knot.

But Wally pulls it away way sooner than it would take a real knot to go down, but the harrowed cry he hears only makes him twitch harder, pre already pearling on his tip despite he hasn't been even touching himself.

"You're making a mess." He grunts at Barry's ear after pulling him up, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his navel, supporting the weight of his belly. "You dripped on the bedsheet. For a fake knot."

Barry hiccups and cries out again as Wally finally thrusts into his still twitching heat, and as after a minute he's still unsettled, Wally pacifies him with a bite right on his mating gland. It tastes sweet like pregnant Omega and something like static which could only belong to a speedster; Wally moans through the bite while feeling the other finally softening up in his arms, his pussy opening up more and allowing him in up to the bulge of his growing knot.

He holds Barry still like that, one hand clutching his upper arm and the other pressed on the lower swell of his belly, feeling just how heavy the weight of the other feels as Barry leans entirely on him. He's not going to take long to pop a knot, but he does intend to keep going as long as he can.

He needs to enjoy it while it lasts. The pup is due soon, and he doesn't like the idea but with them out he's not going to be able to do this anymore. The thought of getting Barry pregnant again just for this has Wally thrust and bite down harder, moaning with his whole chest as Barry whines and pulls at his hair, unwilling or unable to put any real strength into it.

[ruiniel]

👀 idk if this is too generic—may I request a smutty short fic of fem!reader x alucard, but set post-canon? Like in the little community village? (feel free to throw in anything extra/else!)

Hi anon, but what if they were *on the way* to the village, anon?

Above us, the sky

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x F!Reader

Count: 2.7k

Rating: Explicit (🔞)

Tags/CW: oneshot, post-castlevania, inspired by castlevania, banter, attraction, oral sex (m receiving), oral sex (f receiving), desire, teasing, shenanigans in nature, fluff, drinks by the fire, Alucard POV

All characters depicted are 18+

A wry smile splits his face as Adrian waits beside his horse, watching you dismount you own steed. The lessons, through most of which he’d acted as a dutiful tutor, have finally taken hold. And now you must do this yourself, no matter his urge to ease your struggle.

"Right, watch and giggle," you grumble, succeeding with a graceless huff, "I'll get you for it later, worry not," you mutter with a grudging smile. You then walk past your partner, your belongings slung over one shoulder.

Afternoon sunlight spears through the branches of trees; his eye is pierced by a stray, lonesome ray as Adrian follow you with his gaze. No doubt if anyone were to see his face, they would report the traits of the besotted fool Trevor told him he’d become. He contemplates having to properly humiliate the hunter next time they spar to regain some standing and curb that enthusiasm for jibes, though… well. He’s not wrong, is he?

"Adrian, are you coming?" you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

He steps forward with a grin, awaiting the scoff he knows will follow; and so it does, though he’s seen your brimming smile. The shiver running through him when you act this way makes itself known; he smothers it down. He can’t, shouldn’t want you here, on the road, despite being nearer to the village now; but the sway of your hips draws him with the magnetism of planets, and the image of your parted lips as he takes you refuses to disperse from his mind.

And, even as together you set up your small camp to rest, Adrian catches you stealing a glance or two when you think he’s not looking; you need him, and the notion fills him with delight, one he never thought he deserved to feel. But that was before. That was past. 

Your face hides nothing. You watch him as Adrian once looked upon you, dancing with the winds above the walls of the castle, not a care in the world. 

The memories fade as your words reach him. "Traveling through time and space again, my prince of the Night?" you tease.

Oh, but how he would tease you, his lively one, until you rose above the stars and your mind emptied of all that you knew. Adrian glances your way with a brief, faint smile as he works to start a small fire.

You’d settled in a hidden glade close to the road, and late you share an evening fare accompanied by fragrant, dark wine he’d packed.

Your mouth forms a tasty little circle after you take a first sip, gazing at him wide-eyed. "Can never, ever, underestimate the wine you have here. Goodness this is exquisite!" you down the rest of it, liberally.

"You may regret this indulgence on the morrow," Adrian says, arms crossed, throwing you a knowing grin.

You shrug. "That's for tomorrow's me to worry about. Now please," you raise the empty cup for a refill.

Shaking his head, Adrian complies. "But then, I have held your hair before, and in worse circumstances," he deadpans, placing the travel flask aside as you both recline around the brimming fire.

You gently slap his shoulder, and watching you, his thought turns to the first time you’d met, then the first time you’d abused drink so much, it led to such a sorry state Adrian could not possibly just stand by and watch.

"Your boots are safe this time, I promise," you chime, giggling at a sudden hiccup. 

It is late as you unpack for a night's rest under summer skies on your return route to Belmont village. His face raised to the cold stars, Adrian hears the slow shift of galaxies and endless circles from afar, through this world and beyond, struggling in their lonesome seats upon the firmament.

He nearly drifts away, the flames warming his face, his body softening against the hard earth beneath your cloaks. He holds you tighter, eyes locked on the stars. Silver light mellows his thought, his nerves, infuses his being. There is peace.

There is fear. It bolts through him like the cracking of a whip.

Adrian starts to feel you struggling against him, your words hissed and unintelligible, limbs contorting in strange positions.

"... it is I," he calls your name, fingers sifting through your hair. When you fail to awaken and still thrash about, he calls again with all the care and worry he feels through your bond; gradually, you mellow against him. 

Your breathing is quick and shallow as you turn your head, awake, watching him with tired eyes. "I... I'm sorry, it was…" you trail away, lowering your lashes and turning back against him, coiled deeper into yourself. "Like before."

Nightmares still plague you. You say they are nothing but your days following such nightly frights are always strange, and Adrian knows you’d not forgotten your ordeal through the siege. You dream of fleeing through his home where all its halls are burning and then the fire takes you and shadows take him. More or less the same visions, with varying outcomes. You hear his voice in your sleep, warning of no escape. Adrian tried comfort, but the aftermath of trauma is immense and its tendrils run deep, as well he knows. Would that he didn’t. And so, he holds you close, rocking with you back and forth to calm your battering heart.

You turn after a few moments, placing a cold palm to his cheek. "I'm so happy you're here," you smile, and in your eyes he sees the signs that sleep will elude for tonight. At first, you could not sleep at all, and now the dreams do not cease. 

Adrian meets your smile and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, sweeping its shell with his thumb.

"Adrian—" you gasp and meet his eyes, hands fisting together at his chest. 

"I got ahead of myself," he says, aiming for an apology though all that comes through, is yearning. He longs to touch you, but now is not the time to indulge. 

"Do it again," come the soft, reserved words.

He meets your eyes, confused. "Rest," Adrian urges, draping an arm around your waist and kissing the tip of your nose.

You smile, so shyly it levels him, and turn your face inward presenting him with the full sight of your ear.

"Which part of rest did you not comprehend?" Adrian tries reason, though inside he already burns to glide his tongue over that lovely appendage merely to hear your sigh, and continue over the rest of you. These primal states of mind and body in your presence can overwhelm; the need to own you is great, to control your gasps and sighs, to have you merge into him forever and a day.

"Please," you smile, reaching around his neck, following the quiver of his lips while your fingers curl into his hair pulling with just enough pressure as to diminish his resolve. "It'll help me rest," you whisper, and that fiendish smile widens at his strangled sigh.

"Have a care what you pray for, it might be given you," Adrian teases the old saying a little too darkly, a hand drawing soothing motions over your back. But relentless you are, coming flush against his body, and he once again drifts on the scent of your skin and the sweetness of your blood. 

He's lightheaded with your touch upon his cheek, following your changing expression. His finger again slowly grazes along your ear. You clutch his arm when he tilts your chin up, slowly, softly tracing the outline of your lips with his tongue. 

Your breath catches; then, again slower, and you grip him tighter, opening for him, your eager mouth ghosting his and Adrian nibbles on your lip, enjoying the hot, silky texture, the taste, the pressure. 

He whispers your name again, this time not in worry but in need; you turn until you’re trapped beneath him. Desire has pooled in your eyes and at least you’re smiling now, but Adrian wants to ask if this is truly what you need.

You curb his question, fingers again seeking and caught in his hair, nose pressed to his neck. "You smell so good… " Your wet lips glide over his skin, "you taste so good..." you murmur and Adrian grins through his blush, recalling a few very pleasurable past moments when you’d said the same.

His arms wrap around you and he rises, drawing you into his lap, watching as you take your time with the fastenings of his shirt. Adrian mirrors your movements, smiling, his fingers sure and steady. You press down on his hips as he lifts your arms to remove your tunic.

"You too," you gush a reproach, and he hastily complies. 

You gape at him. "I will never get over this," comes that husky tone he knows too well, "… how perfect you are," your fingers trail down his bare chest.

"We have enough time," Adrian deadpans. Perfect. Once, when he'd been a wreck, such words would have awakened ire and contempt. Now, he knows they come from the heart, and with you he's learned. He's learned to trust again. He attempts to guide you onto the forest bed—but you resist.

"No," you raise your chin, defiant, "you tonight." Your palms push against him, leading him down on his back and he lies there, defeated amid fallen leaves and grass, eyes narrowing at the devious curve of your lips.

You straddle him, still wearing your leggings, and he pulls at their lacings even as you swat his hand away with an impatient click of the tongue; you lean forward, placing your palms on either side of his head. "I want to taste."

Those words, your face, and the despicable way you bite down on your lip undo him and you feel it—feel him hardening against you and so enjoy it, rolling your hips back and forth, grinding until he must steady you.

"Slower," Adrian orders, perhaps too harshly, but you’d weakened him—again—and he clings to this last shred of control.

You say nothing, the smile gone, replaced by something else as you lean back and aid in removing his boots, watching him as one starved. Adrian feels the softness of you against his knees before your searching touch reaches for his bare abdomen, feeling every rippling indentation; you lean down and place a lingering, open-mouthed kiss to his hipbone, slowly rolling down his trousers. You then look him in the eye, grinning like a devil.

Adrian rises, propped his elbows, to at least give the impression of equal ground. Of course, that is a fool's game; there is no such thing, not with you. Even when he possesses you wildly, smothering your moans and cries, he’s still yours to do with as you please. 

You release him from the constraint of his garment as Adrian tilts his head back briefly, biting on his lip so hard he pierces the skin, and soon your touch is all he knows. You enjoy these moments of panting submission and your nimble hand feels him slowly, applying sweet pressure at every point; you bring a finger to your lips and lick it as Adrian watches, before tenderly sweeping it over the head of his arousal, your other hand resuming its maddening strokes.

This torment kindles a rising, turbulent need and his hips thrust upward, craving the complete warmth of you. "This is... good but... I must... ah..." he gasps as you breathe warmth on the head, "I must have you... now," he struggles amid your games, moaning when you apply more tender pressure.

"Not yet," you murmur in kind, and a strained sigh escapes him; for the briefest of moments, Adrian closes his eyes—the greatest mistake, for now, the shivers of the universe spear him as your pink tongue slowly licks his hardened cock. The sight is always both harrowing and enticing in the worst of ways, leading him down a worrying spiral of darkened things he’d do to you.

"I said I would get you later…" you whisper evilly before one long, drawn-out suckle that hurls him into the endless depths of mindless bliss.

Adrian falls back down, head hitting the cold ground. In a haze, he hears your voice.

"Tell me how you want this..." your soft lips envelop him again and he turns his head to the side to watch, drowning in abject desire, subdued by this power though you ask him what to do. "Faster," he chokes, and you give him that, taking him deeper with maddening ease; he stifles a moan as his cock slips down your throat.

With eyes are half-closed, he can hardly breathe for the sensations raging through him, one hand reaching for a fistful of your hair as he forces you to stop and tilts his hips upward, holding you in place to feel you inside: the hot softness of your tongue, your lips, your throat. But this was enough and he forces you up by the hair, hand drifting to the nape of your neck.

Adrian rises, seeking your mouth, tasting you deeply even as you try to pull away. "No, not yet !" you giggle, pushing against him.

"Oh yes—" despite your struggle, he makes fast work of your clothing, leaving you bare with practiced urgency. Adrian orders your shoulders down until you’re the one lying flat on your back, writhing and grinning only to give him grief as he pins you to the ground with little mercy, and for a mere moment he regrets using his strength on you. "Open to me," he mock-orders, frowning when you playfully shake your head.

So this is how it’ll be tonight. Fine, he’ll play. He applies mild pressure yet again despite your squirming, and easily his fingers roam down your skin, between your hot thighs, palm placed flat on the small tuft between your legs. 

You still, mischief on your face, tensing against him when Adrian captures your mouth, bites gently on your lips; a sigh escapes him when he feels the slippery wetness and his touch becomes shallow, languid, circling your slit. He slips one finger inside. "So... tight..." his kiss turns crushing as he strokes and feels more, drifting on your soft mewling, varying depth and rhythm, drunk on the flare of desire and need infusing the bond you share.

Your thighs tense around his hand. "Now you have to… please…"

Adrian laughs, low, deep in his throat at your plea. "Not yet," he echoes your earlier words, beaming at your frustrated sigh.

"You have… the worst possible timing for revenge," you pant, hips gyrating, desperate for more.

"Do I, really?"

Your own hand frantically reaches and strokes his now slick cock with desperate urgency. "Adrian, please!" 

"How sweetly you beg," he whispers, suckling on your tongue, craving to bury himself into you so much, but you started this.

And you won’t have your way, yet. In a movement faster than you can object he rises, drawing you to him, and his head dips between your thighs.

You writhe and he grips you by the hips, fingers sinking into tender flesh, keeping you down. "Softly..." he nuzzles you, lips pressed to your skin, his tongue lapping at you, delving deep to taste; he sucks on your clit until you mellow, sighing and moaning; but every nip and flick of his tongue has you shuddering and soon you cry out his name again, broken by desire. 

Your hand seizes and grips his hair, body straining, needing him to take all of you, and it is hard to cease even when you twist and squirm, and he feels you peaking, trembling against him. Smiling, he lazily plays with you a little longer.

"Come to me," you ask, hands playing in his loose strands. 

Adrian breathes through his nose at the sight of your needy face and parted lips, the painful way your fingers dig into his shoulders; his kiss follows a slow trail upward, along your body, easily sinking down onto you. Looking upon your face, he sees your lips swollen and glistening from the bites you’d subjected them to.

"My golden warrior... is not too shabby with his tongue," you say, a telling gleam in your eyes, your legs wrapping around him.

The night is still young and Adrian holds you to him, silently melting at the entreaty of your body. 

"Now..." you beg through another kiss, trembling against him, your face limned gold and red by the fire.

Smiling, he cannot but obey.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[juice-plums]

Glam X Reader X Chive: Hide And Seek

(smutty!!)

Y/n was the park with her friends laying on the grass Chive was tuning his guitar and Glam was Reading some sheet music she was dying of boredom

“Hey you guys wanna do something fun?” Y/n asks sitting up from the grass

“What?” Chive responded Not looking up from his guitar Y/n ponders what can they do in midday at a park

“How about we play Hide and Seek?” She says stretching

Glam Chuckles Chive rolls his eyes

“What are you five Y/n?” Chive insults Y/n faces him

“Come on it’ll be fun it’ll take our minds a break” she begs getting up

“Yeah It’ll be fun Chive” Glam says getting up Setting the sheet music on the ground

“You two kids have fun..I’ll stay here” Chive responded strumming his guitar

“Well alright…Come on Glam” Y/n says leading him into the woods Chive Glances at the two Hide and seek what a joke…JOKE maybe I’ll go and join them in a minute

“Okay Glam do you want to go first?”

“I rather seek you out if that’s okay”

“Okay!”

Glam puts his head down and starts to count Y/n scatters she looks around deciding where to hide

“An abandoned concession stand? Perfect!” Y/n went to the concession stand and went in hiding against the wall she giggles covering her mouth as she heard footsteps crunching on grass

now she started to sweat Glam can be scary at times especially with that smile of his she wonders what he’ll do if he finds her

Glam was there of the window of the concession stand she saw his shadow she grips her mouth as his head pushed fully in looking around

come on…leave-

Glam turns his head to Y/n they stare at each other

“I found you” He says smiling so creepy it gave her goosebumps

“Yeah you found me..M-My turn” she said

“Wait Y/n I won so do I get a prize”

“It’s not one of those games”

Glam’s eyes went big like a puppy’s eyes Y/n bit her lip he was just adorable

“Fine..what do you want?”

That is when Glam’s face turned red not pink but red he nervously fumbled with his vest

“Can…I feel your boobs?”

Y/n stopped dead in her tracks and heats up did he really just ask me that are you serious I mean it’s glam he really cute in a creepy way what does she say what can she say

“Um sure” She responded Y/n wasn’t gonna waste this opportunity of Glam feeling up all on her she looked around no one is here I guess they don’t need to hide

Y/n faces Glam and he slowly raises his hands putting his hands on her lumps he squeezed them softly she lowly whimpers feeling a strange sensation that she only gets when watching porn

Glam rotates them in separate directions she squirms he loves the little noises she made he couldn’t help but kiss her lips

She softly moans closing her eyes feeling his soft lips he pulls her closer her breast touching his chest

“That’s how you kiss a woman?”

Chive came out from the bushes walking towards them Glam pulled away from a starstruck Y/n hiccuping Chive looks down at the two mostly Glam in disgust

“Like you can do better” Glam riled back

“What is she your pillow? watch this”

Chive takes Y/n from Glam and french kisses her mouth stuffing his tongue in her mouth she loudly squeaks holding onto his arms but shortly got the hang off his rhythm and kisses back saliva running down her chin

he backs up with with a loud ��muaw’ sound a long saliva strand following Y/n lightly pants feeling her pussy get wet Glam Scoffs at Chive

“Well I felt her boobs now buzz off Chive” Glam snaps Chive laughs

“Did you actually see her boobs like the full nipple”

Glam paused but nodded no Y/n smiles at Glam

Chive then forcefully grabs her tits making her yelp with his thumbs feels both of her nipples he slowly massages them She moans spreading her legs touching herself

“I dreamt about sucking these tits While I was masturbating” Chive growled Y/n takes off her shirt showing her boobs to them Chive he takes one boob putting it in his mouth and starts to suck on them like chocolate chips Glam stood there silently fuming then stared at her other tit He attack that boob flicking his tongue violently at her nipple

she moans in pure bliss the feeling of her boobs being sucked making her vocal and moist Chive looks up seeing her messy moaning face he gave her breast a few kisses before stopping Glam still continued

“Okay Y/n get on your hands and knees” Chive orders her Glam pulls his head away letting Y/n get down doing what Chive said

Chive slaps her bum one time

“Okay Glam show me what you got” He said getting in front of her Glam bit his lips groping her ass and slipping down her shorts and panties seeing her puffy clit

Y/n squirms feeling his finger massage her bud up to her vagina her breaths became hot Glam pulls down his pants exposing his hard penis with a thick red tip Made Chive shiver

Glam pokes at her entrance making Y/n loudly gasps looking at Chive he was stroking himself giggling she sticks her tongue out Glam grabs a fistful of her hair roughly sliding in her He groans going balls deep inside her feeling her velvety walls clench around his penis Y/n loudly screams as Glam slams into her drool going down to her chin

fat slapping sounds Glam vastly going in and out his balls slapping her ass every time he thrusts Chive poked his dick at Y/n’s cheek she smiles instantly deep throating his penis Chive hisses and thrust into her mouth she gags and gawks her cheeks being stuffed both her vagina and mouth be stuffed with cocks

Glam holds her down squirting inside Y/n she squeals feeling Glam’s seed flow inside her Chive her mouth down his cock going down her throat he strains cumming his juice flows down Y/n drinks it all

Y/n dryly laughs her face a mess

“My turn Glam” Chive pushes Glam away from Y/n Glam groans his penis still cumming Chive made Y/n get on top of Him

“C-Chive wait a minute ah!-“

“No fucking way baby I Made Glam go first now it’s my turn ngh!~”

Chive pushed Y/n’s ass down His thick penis twitching inside her she bit her lip Chive forcing her up and down Glam watched feeling his penis rise up again watching Y/n get stuffed

“Fuck Fuck!” She growls her cervix being kissed Glam shoves Y/n’s back down on Chive’s chest Glam’s penis tip circles around her asshole making her yelp and he slid inside her

“YEOW GLAM PULL IT OUT” She screeches her asshole bleeding Glam flinched feeling the tightness of her ass Y/n couldn’t think straight both her holes now being stuffed Glam didn’t pull out he slowly thrusts into her asshole Chive enjoying hearing Y/n moan and groans he loved stuffing her pussy Glam loved having sex with Y/n he slaps her ass making her whine

as Glam and Chive thrust into Y/n’s holes like there was no tomorrow Y/n was moaning her head off from the pleasure waves Chive had his arms deathly squeezing around her back Glam had a death grip on her ass she loves this feeling of being a cock whore

Chive and Glam started moan loudly pounding hard into Y/n making her legs shake

“Ohh fuck Y/n!” Chive screamed holding Y/n down and cumming inside her

“Y/n! oh!!~” Glam whimpers creaming in her ass their cum overflowing her holes like a cream puff making a mess they all loudly pant tired but thrilled from the sex experience Glam pulled out and Chive pulled out their seeds leaking out of her

Y/n rests on Chive’s chest as he caresses her back for awhile Glam pulls Y/n on his chest she giggles as they mouth cuss words at each other.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facial; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Wing-Stroking; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: I'll be posting the last 2 chapters for this fic next weekend (probably next Friday since I had to work the Friday that just passed). I'm so excited!! I'll also be posting some stuff for the holidays soon. Love y'all & thank you always for the support!! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

***********

Chapter Seventeen: Facing the Music.

The only sounds as you venture deeper down the hallway are the click of your heels across the tiled floor and your soft sobs that you try to muffle with your hand. 

You don’t know where you’re going. All you know is that you want to be alone. You don't want to be around anyone right now. Just thinking about all of those staring eyes and camera lenses is enough to make you vomit. You finally come to a stop when you’re finally alone, not one person or camera (that you can clearly see, anyway) in sight. All that faces you are walls and an exit that leads out into one of the parking lots on the side of the venue. 

You press your hand harder against your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs. Tears run rapidly down your face, destroying your makeup. You can hardly believe how tonight has turned out for you, but you should’ve known something would have eventually gone wrong.

It was impossible for tonight to be magical or happy for you. You don’t deserve it. Not with what you’ve done to Keigo. And to Rei. Rei. How could he do this to you? You win your first-ever award at the first Gala you’ve attended and he does this? How could he humiliate you so? Does he realize the gravity of this? 

“Y/N!” Keigo’s voice startles you and you turn around, finding him standing behind you in his suit. A barking laugh exits your mouth as you stare at him through a vision blurred with tears. “So now here you come,” you curtly laugh through your sniffles and hiccups. “I bet you wanted to see that, right? Did that tickle you, Keigo? You want me to tell you that you were right about Rei?” 

Keigo’s jaw tightens, obviously irked by what you said but not trying to cause a fight. You’re like a pained animal that is snapping her jaws at him even though he’s trying to help you escape a trap. “Y/N,” he firmly begins, “that’s not why I’m here.” 

“I don’t even wanna know why you’re here!” you snap, irked at his presence. And you shouldn’t be, but the hurricane of your emotions isn’t allowing you to be rational right now. “Don’t you have a date that didn’t show up tonight? You have a girlfriend, Keigo, in case you need me to remind you.” 

“Not anymore,” he solemnly replies. “I talked to her about us and what we did. She already knew I had feelings for you and we agreed to see other people.” 

Your heart drops into your stomach at this newfound information. Now only God knows what Sakura thinks of you. You stare at your ex-best friend across the hall, sizing him up. “So…what?” you scoff. "You wanna come through and sweep me off my feet? Are you here to prove to me that you’re deserving of Rei’s spot? Well, let me tell you, Keigo, that ain’t gonna happen.” 

As soon as the words are out, you know you’ve gone too far. Keigo is highly offended and you can tell that he is from the way he stares at you, his wings slightly frazzled. Hurt glazes his crimson eyes as he stares you down, refusing to look away from you or your pain. “Y/N, I didn’t come here to take Rei’s spot,” he says, gently yet firmly. “And I didn’t come here to tell you that I told you so. I could give less of a shit about that. I’m here because you’re my best friend and I care about you, believe it or not.” 

You’re stunned into silence, allowing him the space to speak. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened with us, and no matter how much I want us to be something more, I care about your happiness more than anything. If you don’t want to be with me, Y/N, then so be it, but I care about whether or not you’re happy.” He points back the way he came, a glare on his face. “And I know for a straight fact that someone like Rei won’t make you happy the way you deserve to be.” 

You want to tell him that he's wrong, but your voice refuses to come out. Keigo takes a step forward, testing the waters. When you don’t move, he takes another step, slowly closing the gap between your bodies.

“I don’t care who you end up with,” he passionately proclaims to you. “I don’t care if it isn’t me. I don’t care who you choose, but just as long as they see you as the beautiful, kindhearted, intelligent, sexy, incredible woman and hero that I know you to be. Not as a way to gain popularity or notoriety, or to show off to the cameras. I want you to be with someone who sees and accepts you as you are, because fuck, you fucking deserve it!” 

A passionate, raging fire bursts in his eyes, giving you the indication that he has wanted to say this for a while now. “Keigo…” His name is all you can utter as you begin to subconsciously walk towards him, your body drawn to his like a magnet. His eyes glaze over with wetness as he takes his hands into yours, his thumbs running over your knuckles. “I just want you happy, baby,” he breathes. “That’s all I want.” 

And you believe him. You’ve never believed anything anyone said more. You stare into his eyes and see nothing but truth and openness. He is completely raw with you in this moment in a way he has never been before. Your eyes then trail down to his lips, remembering how they felt on yours that night at the hotel. You felt at home when you kissed. You don't even realize you’re leaning up onto your toes and in until you see his lips part. 

“Y/N!” The two of you jump apart, finding Rei standing at the end of the hallway. Before you can explain yourself, Rei is zooming across the room at the speed of light to swing at Keigo, knocking him right in the jaw. Keigo flies into the wall behind him from the sheer impact of Rei’s quirk and the force of his punch, a thud hitting your ears when his back hits the wall. You jump back and cover your mouth in shock as Keigo quickly rises to his feet, a pained glare on his face. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rei angrily growls, already preparing to toss another lightning-speed punch at him. “Get the fuck away from her!” He zooms across the room towards Keigo, but the winged pro quickly flaps out of the way, opting to escape to a corner of the ceiling. He presses his hands and feet against the wall, scowling down at a very angry Rei. 

Keigo flaps his wings once, causing several of his sharpened feathers to shoot for Rei like knives. He quickly runs out of the way, leaving only a gust of wind in his wake as he appears at the other side of the room. “Wait, stop!” you protest in vain.

But neither of them listens. Rei sizes Keigo up as he lands before him, both staring each other down like two would do in a shootout. “I knew you’d try to steal her away from me,” Rei snaps. “You were probably creaming in your pants from what happened earlier. You saw the perfect opportunity to steal my spot when she ran off that stage, didn’t you?” 

He goes to pounce at Keigo again, kicking his quirk into high gear so he is nothing but a moving blur. Keigo is ready though. He grabs Rei's wrists and holds him back from attacking him, gritting his teeth at the amount of energy it’s taking to keep the speeding pro back. “No,” he huffs, irked, “but I am seein’ the perfect opportunity to finally put my foot up your ass.” 

He then swings at Rei, nailing him right in the cheek. The sound of his fist connecting with flesh is horrible to your ears. Rei startles back at the impact of the blow but doesn’t halter. He comes right back to grab at Keigo, growling as he does so. Soon, the two are grappling at each other’s limbs and clothes, trying to toss each other against the walls and throw each other on the floor.

You’re screaming now, desperate to stop them from killing each other. “Guys, stop it!” you beg, desperation flooding in your gut. “Please stop!” Tears fall freely from your eyes as you watch them fight, feeling helpless to stop them. Should you use your quirk? How do you know you won’t hurt them? 

Just as Keigo throws Rei across the room and prepares to fly over to straddle him and ruin his face, the sudden appearance of Rumi cutting across the room stops him. All you see is the bunny hero kick Keigo straight in the jaw, causing blood to spurt from his mouth. He slumps to the ground, cupping his bleeding mouth while Rumi lands perfectly in front of you on her feet. “Da fuck?!” he angrily hollers. “You could’ve knocked my teeth out, Rumi!” 

Rumi barely blinks at her friend. “She said to stop it,” she growls in a warning. “I was just makin’ you dickheads listen.” She stands between Keigo and Rei, daring one of them to make a move against her. They don’t. 

Your bunny friend gives you the confidence to step forward and let your frustrations flow despite the tears on your face. “I want nothing to do with this right now,” you snap, angered at Keigo and Rei. You glare at the both of them, letting them both see the rage inside of you.

“The both of you are acting like children fighting over a toy, which I’m not!” You press a hand to your chest passionately, your anger taking over your entire being. “I’m not a prize to be won or fought over, and I’m not going to entertain this shit, especially tonight.” 

When you look at Keigo, he adverts his eyes from yours, shame etched into his handsome face. You then turn to Rei who looks even more guilty and has a purple bruise growing on his cheek. “You and I will discuss this later,” you huff, jabbing a finger at him. “I’ll see you back at the dinner. Let’s go, Rumi.” 

Rumi is more than happy to escort you back to the Gala, hooking her arm through yours and guiding you away from the bullshit that just transpired. 

*********

As you stand outside hours after the Gala ends, you have come to realize that flashing cameras do, indeed, cause headaches…or maybe that’s just watching your boyfriend play up the paparazzi and celebrity news crew. 

Rei won his award, just as Rumi won hers for “The Strongest Hero” and Yu won hers for “The Biggest Heart” which is dedicated to heroes and their interactions with the public. Keigo didn't win “Hero of the Year”, but he had already stated he knew he was going to lose since he was up against All Might and Eraserhead who had both been on a roll this year for their work. Eraserhead won, leading to him holding back tears on stage and Mic embarrassing him because he was screaming so much. 

You had checked out during most of the awards. To be honest, you didn’t even care about yours anymore. You were just about ready to go home. And you still are as you stand at the valet, glaring at your ex on the red carpet. You’re not in the mood for drinking or partying, and your social meter has run dangerously low. All you want is to smoke, soak your aching feet, and go to sleep. You want to forget tonight ever happened. 

But Rei doesn’t look like he’s ready to bounce just yet. You’ve been watching him for the past ten minutes talk up news hosts, bloggers, and paparazzi gangs, acting witty and cracking jokes with his award in his hand. Though a part of you was happy that he had won for his category, the other part of you also wanted to smash the award against a wall as punishment for earlier. He cleaned himself up nicely after his fight with Keigo and put off his cheek bruise from a drunken accident. No one asked any questions after that. 

You haven’t spoken to him all night since he fought with Keigo earlier. Back at the event, you sat with Rumi and the girls while Keigo opted to stand near the snack table, not looking at you once.

You’re still on the fence about Rei’s public confession too. Even as he is interviewed for his award, you know you should be standing right next to him, supporting him and joining him in the joy of winning your awards, but you don’t. You have no urge to. You want to distance yourself from him as much as possible right now as you try to sort out how you feel about him and the shiny, 24k gold ring he presented to you on the stage. 

You didn’t like that one bit. Though the ring and the confession were romantic enough for your liking, they were not appropriate to present to you at that moment. You were not only in front of your peers, coworkers, and the same man you slept with, but also thousands of people watching overseas on their TVs and devices. Everyone saw that confession, and now your award-winning moment will forever be overshadowed by it. 

That pisses you off more than you’d like to admit. You’re furious with Rei. To you, his actions were selfish and inconsiderate of you. That was your moment. He knows how hard you’ve worked to get that award and he dares try to ruin it by making it about your relationship? You grip your award that was boxed up securely in your arm while you grit your teeth, slowly becoming more and more irked as you watch Rei yuck it up with the paparazzi.

“Fuck this”, you huff. You turn to begin walking away to order a Lyft to take you home but smack right into someone. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. 

“Don’t worry about it, little lady,” a warm, familiarly deep voice chuckles. “I’d worry more about yourself in them shoes.” You look up into the warm eyes of Fatgum in his cheery yellow suit, a takeout box in his hand from the Gala. “Congratulations on your award! You deserve it more than anyone.” You sigh in relief, smiling up at your fellow pro and friend. 

“Taishiro,” you say lovingly. “I’m so happy to see you and not a fuckin’ roach with a camera in my face.” You look around for his redheaded date who sported the same yellow shade on her dress tonight. “Where’s Haruko?” you curiously ask. 

Fatgum sighs, chuckling at the mention of her. “Gettin’ in the car. Poor baby can’t take her alcohol too well and started gettin’ dizzy. Where’s you guy?” You jut your chin over to Rei who is busy talking to a well-known news station in Tokyo. “Over there, hoggin’ up the cameras.” Fatgum whistles at the sight, smirking. “Wow, he really knows how to work the public, doesn’t he?”

 

You sniffle, scrunching your nose at Rei making one of the reporters laugh. “Tell me about it,” you mutter to yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Fatgum frowns at your reaction. “Somethin’ tells me you ain’t too happy about that little love speech he gave,” he bluntly states. “I thought it was quite touchin’...for the cameras, at least.” You crack a smile at his wittiness, but then feel your heart fall into the bit of your stomach. If he noticed how off Rei’s proposal was then was what Keigo said true? 

You two watch the chaos on the red carpet for a moment in silence, watching how each paparazzi person tries to take a snap of any pro they can get for a buck. Your mind is racing with questions you need answers to, most of which you know Fatgum can’t answer…but he can answer one. You feel so lost and you need to know that what you’re feeling is okay. “Taishiro?” you softly ask. He turns to you, a small smile on his face. “Can I ask you something?” 

He nods, sipping on his whiskey. “How did you realize that Haruko was the one for you? How did you come to understand that it could only be her and no one else?” 

His smile fades for a moment and you think at first that you went too far asking him something so personal. But before you can apologize, he answers you. “When I realized how vulnerable I was with her,” he replies with a loving smile. “I ain’t gonna lie to you, Y/N; I’ve had many partners where I thought they were the one for me, but I was always disappointed in the end. I should’ve known when I was too scared to be vulnerable with them. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even come out of this form just ‘cause I was so scared my big, pudgy self would scare ‘em off.” 

He chuckles, pressing a hand to his stomach. “But with Haruko, it was different. She loves all parts of me, including the vulnerable ones. I was never scared to show her my fears or concerns, let alone how much I trusted her. She’s always made me feel like I could lean on her for everything and anything.” His smile stretches, a loving sparkle for his wife in his eyes. “That’s how I realized she was the one for me. I am completely myself with her.” 

You feel a lump form in your throat at the amount of love in his eyes that you see for Haruko. You don’t know if you feel that kind of love for Rei, especially now. “I don’t know how that feels,” you tearfully confess. “I don’t know if I can feel that way with someone.” You look down to avoid having him see you cry. His warm, large hand grips your shoulder comfortingly. “You will, little lady!” he assures you. “Sometimes the right person comes later in life. Sometimes in the most unexpected person.” 

He nods over to the parking lot where you get the shock of the night so far: Snipe walks out of one of the venue's exits hand in hand with Sakura. You blink at them, astounded. You didn’t even see them tonight during the Gala, but then again, you were too busy dealing with the bullshit Rei and Keigo caused tonight.  You watch as Snipe lets Sakura walk in front of them to his red Range Rover, a hand on the small of her back and standing several heads taller than her smaller, petite frame. He then leans down to whisper something to her and she laughs as he squeezes her to his side. In that moment, you’re overjoyed for her. 

Fatgum turns to you, still squeezing your shoulder. “I know you’re angry at Rei and you have every reason to be,” he soothingly continues. "Maybe this is a sign that he ain’t the one for you, honey. And if you want my advice, stop listenin’ to your head for once and just listen to your heart. I know it’s corny but it worked for me.” He flashes you his engagement ring and gives you a wink. 

You’ve never been more grateful for him than now and you thank God, or fate, or whatever, or whomever for sending him your way tonight. The fog in your mind has cleared and you now know exactly what you have to do.

Jubilant over your question being answered, you pounce at Fatgum and wrap your arms around his big, pudgy waist. “Thank you, ‘Shiro,” you coo into his chest. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, hugging you back and filling you with warmth. His hugs are the best! 

Before Fatgum can say anything more, you rush across the valet to the red carpet, earning people shouting your name and snapping photos of you. “Rei!” you call to your boyfriend across the way. He turns, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you. He reaches a hand out for yours and once your hand is in his, he kisses it. Probably for the cameras. “Let’s go back to your place,” you say above the shouts of excitement. “I’m feelin’ kinda tired.” 

He leans in towards you, nodding. “Of course, babe,” he says in a hushed tone. “We can celebrate over some wine and I can give those feet a rub.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before turning back to the cameras and news reporters. His world. “Thank you for the questions,” he politely tells the cameras, grinning his staple Colgate smile. 

Then, finally, you leave, and you have everything you want to say to him stuck in your head. 

*********** 

When you’re finally back at Rei’s place, you waste no time losing your heels.

You sit on Rei's couch, unstrapping your heel straps from your ankles. As soon as they are off, you sigh and wiggle your toes around. Rei lives in a high-rise apartment across town that is pristine and decorated with the finest of luxuries––crystal vases sitting on mahogany furniture; a glass vase showing off his many awards and certificates over the years sitting next to his flat-screen TV; a balcony overlooking the city and the hot tub sitting outside, filled with the coolest, bluest water; a mini wine shelf that he is currently taking a bottle of white wine out of.

You sit in the large living area that is adjacent to the kitchen, glad to finally be sitting on something as plush and soft as the couch you are occupying. Rei lets out a giddy giggle as he takes the bottle off of the wine rack, moving across the kitchen in his socks. He has stripped himself of his jacket and shoes, leaving himself in only his pants and button-down. 

“Wow, what a night,” he happily sighs. “I can’t believe I really won an award! This is going right on my IG as soon as tomorrow morning.” He giggles to himself as he digs through the drawer next to the sink to find the cork screwer. “Just think about all of the traffic I’ll get with that photo,” he chuckles. “And you too, babe! We’ll probably break a record or something with…” 

Words come out of his mouth, but you don’t hear them. Your mind is completely gone, somewhere else entirely. You busy yourself staring off out the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony where the city glitters before you.

What is Keigo doing right now, you wonder? You didn’t see him at all after his fight with Rei, but then again, you don’t even think you would’ve wanted to. Though part of you is still angry for partaking in such bullshit, you understand why he did it. You can't say you wouldn’t have done the same thing for him if some bitch pulled the same shit Rei did tonight. 

Speaking of Rei, he has stopped unscrewing the cork of the bottle and is looking at you. “Hey, you okay?” he asks worriedly. He asked the same question several minutes ago in the limo on the way home. You were quiet and barely looked at him, but you did hold his hand throughout the ride though secretly not wanting to. “Yeah,” you mumble. “Yeah, m’fine. Just tired.” 

You give the same answer you gave him during the limo ride. But it’s bullshit. You’re secretly trying to figure out when you should discuss his proposal at the Gala tonight. Though your answer is completely horse shit, it works once again and he goes back to happily uncorking the bottle. It releases with a pop and he proceeds to pour you a glass.

As he does, he begins to excitedly spout about memories from tonight though you’re barely listening. “Hey, did you get a chance to talk to Stars & Stripes tonight? She was there tonight. I talked to All Might too! We stood at the punch bowl and talked for almost twenty minutes. All Might invited me to a charity ball next month. I’d have to see if I could rearrange some meetings, but maybe–” 

“Rei,” you interject, your voice immediately cutting him off. He stops short of pouring himself a glass.“Why did you give me that ring tonight?” 

Immediately, once the loaded question is out, you can feel the air shift––what was once easy and calm is now tense and charged. You shock even yourself with the question. You had planned to lead up to it, but it just came out. Rei squints at you, confused by the sudden question. “Huh?” 

You look at him then––really look at him––and realize that he is actually confused as to why you’re bringing this up. “The ring,” you repeat. “Why did you give it to me tonight the way you did? Why did you decide tonight of all nights would be the right time to proclaim your love to me to the public and give me that ring?” You don’t sound cool or bitter. You’re calm and curious, but Rei still looks nervous. 

He lowers the wine bottle down, his Adam’s Apple bobbing. “Um…w-well, I thought it’d be romantic since tonight was our first Gala together.” He cocks his head to the side, his squint becoming sharper. “Are you mad at me?” he asks. 

You stand and heave a tired sigh. “I’m not mad, I’m just…” You stop, your words dying in thin air. Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to appease him just so there isn’t an argument? 

‘No,’ you think sternly. You are mad and you’re going to let him know that. No more walking on eggshells or hiding your emotions just to spare him because of your guilt over sleeping with Keigo. He’s going to know exactly how you feel tonight.

You glare at him from across the room, letting your rage flow free. “No, actually, yes. I am very mad at you, Rei.” His eyes widen at your choice of words plus the clear angered look in your eyes. “You could’ve chosen tonight in the limo or after the event to tell me how you felt in private. You could’ve given me that ring in private. But instead, you chose the very moment I was getting my award that I’ve worked so damn hard for, and you know I have!” 

Rei, once again, gulps, not at all expecting this from you. “I-I know, but–” 

“But you completely negated that fact and how embarrassed I would feel,” you snap. “You put me on the spot in front of not only my peers but my coworkers, my boss, and thousands of people watching from home!” You’re so angry that your nostrils flare and your chest rises and falls rapidly. Rei blinks at you, still in shock at the change in your demeanor. “I…I didn’t think of it that way,” he mutters, looking down at the marbled countertop. 

You roll your eyes into your head. “Of course, you didn’t,” you huff. “You always look at things from your own perspective.” He glares at you then, triggered by your words. “What the hell does that mean?” he sharply asks, storming into the living room. “You know, if you didn’t accept my confession or the ring, you could’ve said no.” 

“No, I couldn’t have!” you argue, becoming more and more angered by his selfishness and refusal to see the error of his ways. “I would’ve been plastered all over social media and magazine covers as the bitch who broke your heart at a Gala we were both nominated for. My reputation would’ve been ruined if it hasn't been already!” 

You can feel tears beginning to rise behind your eye sockets, but you don't turn away from him. You want him to see the hurt; the stress; the pain. He stares at you, alarmed and looking like you might explode. “You made that moment about us and it wasn’t,” you hiss. “It was about me and my hard work; not us. You always make decisions based on your best interest; not mine. It’s always about status as a hero and never about me.” 

“That’s not true!” Rei angrily argues. “I always think about you, Y/N! I came to you and apologized for being a bad boyfriend before, didn’t I?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I never said you were a bad boyfriend.” 

“But you’re insinuating it,” he hisses. “I thought that tonight would be the perfect time to tell you how I felt as an act of my love for you, but I can’t even get that right, I guess!” He turns away from you, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t get anything right without fucking it up,” he somberly says. “Everything I’ve done for this award and yet…” He looks away from you then, but you see his shoulders begin to wobble. 

All of the anger you felt for him before dissipates. Now you understand it: he just wants to be better––better than Keigo and everyone else––just to prove to himself that he can be. That he is. A better hero; boyfriend; whatever. He wants it all for validation, and you’ve never felt worse for him. You immediately go to him and cup his face in your hands, seeing how glassy his eyes are.

“Rei,” you say softly, “you are an amazing hero, and this award proves that. Everything that you have you deserve and everything that you want you deserve to possess.” You frown at him. “But just not me.” 

His eyes widen in realization as he knows what this is now: a real breakup. “I’ve been fooling myself by thinking this could work,” you sigh. “I'm sorry I put you through that. We both want different things and have different priorities. What you’re focused on is way different than what I’m focusing on.” 

Your hands drop from his face to hang at your sides. He stands there in silence for a moment, dumbfounded. “So…this is it?” he softly asks. “We just end like this?” He looks so broken at the idea, but you know that you’d be hurting him more if you kept things going like this.

You take his hands in yours and squeeze them tight. “I do love you, Rei, but not the way you deserve, and I know you will find someone who will be able to accept all of you for who you are. I’m just not the one for that.” 

Rei looks down at his hands in yours as if contemplating a way to make you stay. Then, releasing one hand for yours, he digs into his back pocket and retrieves the ring box. He holds it out to you, his eyes despondent and sad. You shake your head, pressing the box back towards his chest. “No, keep it. You bought it, so you can give it to someone who is truly deserving of you.”

He looks down at the box as if it’s no more than a rock and then at you. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighs. 

And you know that he means it. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight to your body. “I know,” you coo. “I forgive you. And I am too.” He hugs you back and for a long while, you two just stand there in his apartment, embracing each other as your final goodbye as a couple. After what feels like forever, you release him and give him a small, departing smile before turning on your heel to get your shoes and your purse. He watches you, never once stopping you as you head to the door. 

When you finally make it there, you turn around and find him still standing there, staring at you longingly but never once protesting or making you stay. Because he knows he can’t. “I’ll see you around, Tempo,” you say before giving him one last smile and leaving his apartment. 

When you step out into the cool summer air, you’ve never felt freer. You immediately hit up the one person who will understand how you’re feeling more than anyone else. You put the phone to your ear, expecting it to ring straight to voicemail, but shockingly, Rumi picks up. “Hello?” she asks, the sound of rap music and Yu’s laughter in your ear. 

“Hey, just broke it off with Rei,” you say. “Where you at?” 

“Hey, I’m in the limo, but we can head over there now,” she says above the blaring music and Nemuri’s high-pitched singing. “I’m with the girls. Everything go good?” 

You stare up into the starry sky, standing in front of the valet lot. “Yep,” you reply with a smile. “Have a glass ready for me by the time I get in. I’m gonna need it.”