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boulevardk · 26 days

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (preview)

Pairing: Gojo x reader (afab)

Genre: cowboy!gojo x bandit!reader + smut

Word count: uhh like 1.7k (haven't finished the full fic yet lmao we'll see what the wc gets to)

Summary: how does the strongest fare in the wild, wild West as the newest sheriff? we're about to find out!!

a/n: shout out to whoever made this fanart bc jesus fucking christ. i have more written for this fic so I'll post it in the next day or so I just wanted to give a preview lol this isn't proofread my apologies

xx Jay

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You were fucked. And, fuck, did you know it.

“You idiot!” you cursed, “Do you wanna die? How could you be so stupid?”

Your partner in crime (literally) turned to you with a crazed grin on his face, high on the rush. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared of some little sheriff.”

The sheriff, in question, is none other than Gojo Satoru. Not only was he the youngest sheriff in the region, but he was an incredible shot and phenomenal horseback rider. The man was known all throughout the west for his strength, wit, and impeccable skill as a marksman. And he just so happened to be the man hunting you down as you speak.

“Am I scared? Am I scared?” you yell in disbelief, “Hell fucking yeah I’m scared! You just had to rob that bank, didn’t you? Toji, this is insane. We’re going to die, and it’s all because you wanted a little extra cash to blow at some saloon since you’re shit at cards and are always too drunk to make a reasonable gamble!”

His eyes widened at your statement, “I’m just down on my luck that’s all!”

You roll your eyes and continue pacing around the small room, almost internally counting down the minutes until you're inevitably caught and thrown in a cell to rot. Maybe Toji could tough it out in jail (assuming he wasn’t hanged for his crimes), but you knew you weren’t cut out for that kind of life. It’s not like you meant to get caught up in this life, after all. A few bad decisions led to this nightmare of a reality, and now you were about to ride this sinking ship with the buffoon in front of you who was pushing 40 and still thought it was a good idea to devote the little cash he had on reckless gambling instead of caring for the adorable, perpetually scowling son he left behind to pursue a life of crime.

“Don’t give me that look, doll,” his tone is sickly sweet but showing no real affection or warmth. “Don’t forget that you’re an accomplice in this crime too. Who was in the carriage waiting for me when I ran out of the bank with the cash, huh? Oh, that’s right! It was you!”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sit down and rest your head in your hands. “Don’t remind me, asshole,” you spit out, tone equally as harsh. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t know you were gonna do that shit! I owed you a favor- one favor, Toji! What, you think because I owed you one, I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the most feared sheriff in the west? Believe it or not, but I don’t want to live this way!”

He huffs and sticks a cigar in his mouth, lighting it and letting out a puff of smoke before meeting your eyes again, “Well, tough shit, doll. This is the hand you were dealt, and now you’ve gotta decide whether or not you’re gonna fold.”

You roll your eyes, sensing a migraine coming on. “Shut the fuck up with your poker references, Toji. You’re not good enough at any card game to warrant that kind of talk.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You turn around and are about to rip into him when you hear the sound of incoming horses and a voice call out, “They’re just up ahead!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toji curses as he puts out his cigar and stands up hastily. He looks around the room frantically and meets your eyes before darting out of the shared space.

“Fuck! Toji, come back!” you shout as you rush after him. You’re not all that well-versed on running from the police given you’ve literally never had a reason to do so. To say you’re relying on Toji to get you two out of this predicament is an understatement. After all, that man has committed more crimes than interacted with his own son.

Running out of the room and following his footsteps, you exit out the backdoor. Your jaw drops to the ground at the sight in front of you. Toji’s sat on top of your very own horse, grabbing her by the reins and turning to you with a devilish smirk on his face. “Sorry, doll, I gotta cut ties here. ‘Can’t afford to get caught, you know? I’m sure you understand. Let me borrow your horse, yeah? I owe ya one.”

You can’t even fully process his words, you’re seeing red with the amount of rage consuming you. Frozen in place, you watch Toji ride away on your horse, effectively abandoning the house that was about to be raided by police.

Toji gets a fair distance away from the house before you hear the same voice yell, “There he is! You lot track him down. I’ll stay back and search the rest of the house. He had an accomplice. I’m sure they’re hiding out here somewhere.”

As soon as the man is done speaking, you hear multiple horses run off in Toji’s direction. You’re scared shitless of what’s to come. You just know the man about to search the house is the famous sheriff you had just been professing your fear of to that backstabbing bum who stole your fucking horse. Even though you know you’re thoroughly, laughably, undeniably fucked, you can’t help but laugh internally at the thought of Toji being captured by the sheriff’s men. You hope they don’t hurt your horse, although you doubt she’ll be yours much longer since you’re about to be sent off to jail.

Cutting your losses and acknowledging defeat, you walk back into the house, ready to face the renowned sheriff. Walking back into the kitchen, your footsteps alert the man of your location, and he makes his way into the room.

If you weren’t scared out of your mind at what’s to come, you might have started drooling, honestly. If this man weren’t known for his near superhuman abilities, he would have been known for his looks alone. You had never seen or even heard about a man that looked like him. He had bright white hair that peaked out from his hat. His skin was so fair and beautiful you swore he was made of porcelain. His lips were a pretty pink that somehow had a glimmering shine to them. He wore black denim with a black button up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his large hands and delectable arm veins. For a reason unknown to you, he wore a blindfold over his eyes. You could only wonder what his eyes looked like, although you imagined they were as beautiful as the rest of him.

He looked unreal. This whole situation felt unreal. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that you were about to be arrested let alone the fact that you were standing in a room with a man that looked like that.

“Well, well,” Gojo chuckles, “Here I was thinking Toji’s accomplice had to be some ugly brute with a tobacco addiction. But here you are instead.”

You rocked on the balls of your feet out of nerves, “I- I’m sorry to disappoint.”

He laughs fully this time. “And a sense of humor, too? What did Toji do to get you roped into this in the first place, huh?”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. It’s like he could see right through you. Was it that obvious that you didn’t live a life of crime? You suppose it’s times like this where your naturally expressive face and body language actually benefited you, as Gojo must have known about the true nature of your involvement just by the way you reacted to his presence.

“I, um…” you tried to pick your words in a way that made you look the least guilty of committing a crime. “I only agreed to help him since I owed him a favor…”

This seemed to pique Gojo’s interest. “Oh? And what did the lying, deceitful, manipulative, gambling addict do to earn a favor from a pretty girl like you?”

Your face flushes when you process his words. Warranted and accurate insults about Toji aside, the human embodiment of perfection called you pretty.

You must have been frozen in place for a second or two because when you blink again, Gojo is standing closer to you and leaning inward, “Are you with me, sweetheart?”

Eyes widening, you nod your head vigorously and elicit another chuckle from the man.

“Well,” you sigh after being able to mentally calm yourself, “he helped my family in a tough situation. My mother was very sick, and Toji just so happened to have the proper remedies to heal her…”

Although you can’t see his eyes, you can tell that Gojo raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and his silence prompts you to continue.

“Believe me, I never wanted to help him out. Or, at least, when I agreed to help him, I had no idea he was gonna drag me into this mess. But I couldn’t just walk around my house and pass by my mother without thinking that, if it weren’t for that lunatic, she wouldn’t be with us anymore.”

Gojo hums and brings his hand to his chin as if in thought. “I bet your family would be pretty disappointed to see you now though, right? Doing all this for your mother is admirable, but you still committed a crime… What kind of sheriff would I be if I just let you off the hook because you told me some sob story and batted your eyelashes at me, hm?”

You didn’t know how to react to his words. Sure, he’s right, your family would be disappointed to see you in this position. You’d never gotten into any sort of trouble before- certainly never done anything illegal.

“You thought you owed a simple favor, sure… But last time I checked, the pathway to heaven wasn’t paved with good intentions.” he tuts. “But jail time seems a little harsh, no? What do you think we can do to solve this little problem?”

Your heart is beating so hard that you wonder if Gojo could hear it from where he stood. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ve never broken the law before, and I can’t afford to leave my family and go to jail.”

“Anything, huh?” Gojo smirked and pulled down his blindfold to reveal the most striking, beautiful eyes you have ever seen in all your life. “Well, how could I turn down an offer like that?”

---

i want him on me and in me I need him carnally I want him in my guts, so deep in me that I feel him in my throat okay bye I'll release the full fic soon lmao <3

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bad268 · 6 months

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Can you please write a Pezzy x gn! reader for the truth or hydrate stream, where the reader admits that they’d date Pezzy & find him attractive (and maybe make some suggestive jokes), and how he & the others would react? I love your writing, by the way, keep up the great work!

Confess or Drink (Pezzy X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous

Requested: Clearly (did I start this the same way as the last one? Yes. Why? Because it’s from the same video, but trust, I did change it lol)

Warnings: Mentioned reader being on Adderall

POV: First Person (I/me)

W.C. 1547

Summary: A little too much alcohol and a little too much confessed.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“What’s up gamers? How y’all doing today?” Droid started off as people began flooding into the stream. I was grabbing a couple of drinks from the fridge as the guys bantered back and forth before sitting next to Pezzy, closer to the computer to read the chat. “Someone wanna explain bruh? It’s a lot.”

“Bitch, it’s your thing!” Grizzy laughed along with Puffer and Pezzy while rolled my eyes and cracked open a Mike’s.

“Geez, we’re doing truth or drink,” Droid explained, going into deeper detail. Puffer, jokingly, started snoring, so Droid said, “Aye, quiet down in the back, yeah?”

“Chat says it's a slumber party,” I laughed, pointing out since the message was highlighted.

“Guys, take your shoes off, stay awhile. Slumber party!” Pezzy joked, enthusiastically. “Are your feet stinky?”

“Please don’t. I do not need chat spamming about feet for the next 2 hours,” I groaned as I leaned back. Droid was already pulling his shoes off and trying to smell them. “Can you not?”

“I can smell them from here actually! Those actually smell,” Puffer complained. Droid tried to smell his feet again, and he made a face before putting his shoes on.

“You realized they stink?” I asked rhetorically, chuckling as I took a drink. “Okay, what are we doing?”

“This is the dealio,” Droid started. “Truth or drink. If someone doesn’t want to answer a question, they have to take a shot.”

“Oh, this was meant to be hot sauce?” Grizzy asked, looking at the box.

“Yeah, it's a Hot Ones game,” I laughed, leaning over Pezzy to point at the box.

“He’s a pussy, dude,” Pezzy stated.

“Y’all keep it at 89 fucking degrees in this house. You think I want hot sauce right now?” Grizzy emphasized.

“That’s all Pezzy, bruh,” Droid muttered.

“Ok, ladies,” I interrupted. “Let’s just do the first card. Puffer can start ‘cause he’s at the end. Simple.”

“And this is why we have you,” Pezzy laughed. “Keep us on track.”

“Oh, yeah have the person who relies on Adderall to keep y'all on track,” You responded sarcastically. “Makes sense to me.”

“Okay, guys. What is the most embarrassing thing you’ve done?” Puffer read off the card before turning his attention to the rest of us.

“I shit my pants in a car ride home with my friends,” Grizzy said immediately. We all started talking over each other until Grizzy interrupted us, “I was like 8, bro!”

“I got one,” Puffer paused as Droid said that he knew it. “I fell in the San Antonio River.”

“OH! What the fuck?!” Droid shouted. All of us started laughing as Puffer told the story of the bike breaking and flinging him into the river. “There’s no ladder, so once you’re in, you’re in.”

“My dad took me to the track,” Droid started, going into a long story about how he shit himself immediately after arriving home. “I think I was just relieved to be home and I made it far enough.”

“Mine was when I was in school and I trusted a fart too much,” Pezzy began. “I had to call my mom and say I shit my pants.”

“Holy shit, guys! Literally!” I laughed as I finished my first drink. “While I did not shit myself after age 6, I ‘fell’ into the fountain in Las Vegas during the national anthem once for $100. Try explaining you’re broke to the police and them not believing you.”

“That’s crazy dude,” Pezzy laughed.

“Crazy? I was crazy once-”

“NO stop!”

“Who would you trade lives with?”

“Puffer?” Droid and Grizzy eyed him.

“Nah, I’m good. My answer is I’m good,” Puffer said fast.

“I think I’d be down to swap with Pezzy,” I chuckled, looking over to him. I held up my drink as if to cheers with him. “What do you say?”

“I’m down,” He agreed, clanking his bottle with mine.

“Who have you fantasized about in your life that you shouldn’t have? No celebrities allowed,” Pezzy read.

“Pezzy. Next question,” I said quickly.

“Why? Do you not want to admit who you’ve fantasized about?” Puffer laughed causing the rest to start laughing as well.

“What? I answered already,” I replied confused, ”It’s y’all’s turn.”

“Wait, you’re blushing!” Grizzy pointed out as he started wheezing.

“You’re answer was Pezzy?!” Droid shouted in disbelief. Everyone was still cracking up, and Pezzy was leaning back against the couch, hiding his face behind his hands.

“Yes!” I shouted back. I leaned forward as I pointed back at Pezzy. “Have you SEEN him? He’s hot!”

“Can we not talk about this live and drunk?” Pezzy intervened.

“No! This guy thinks it's so random that I find you hot!”

“It’s because of his nose right?” Droid shouted as he pointed at Pezzy, “I fucking told you! I knew that shit was pleasing someone!”

“Okay, I’d rather not talk about my sex life on live, my guy,” I drew the line. Despite being pretty drunk, I knew that would be a slippery slope.

“Well, it looks like you’re gonna have to. What was your most recent porn search?” Droid asked. Everyone started complaining, saying they were going to take a shot.

“I will take the shot dude,” I laughed, already downing the Crown. “Wait I got a question. Do any of you dabble in the hentai?”

Immediately, the boys responded with “Yes.”

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as I cringed at all of them. “Y’all are fucking gross. Do y’all feel disgusting afterward because damn that's actually nasty.”

“I have gone so far down that rabbit hole, it is not even funny,” Pezzy admitted.

“You are really feeling those drinks, huh” Grizzy laughed.

“Yes, I am,” Pezzy responded definitively.

“We did not need to know you that personally, Pezzy,” I laughed, taking a shot.

“Seems like you wanted to know him pretty personally,” Puffer muttered as he took a drink.

“Yes, but not that kind of personally,” I laughed. “I’m gonna head out before I destroy my career more than I already have. If someone wants to follow me,” I jokingly coughed out Pezzy’s name, “I’ll be in my room.”

“I don’t think I want to continue living in this house, knowing what you two will be doing in there,” Grizzy grimaced as he stood up and left the room.

“Meg’s gonna pick me up. Yall can stay the night if you really need out,” Puffer offered as Droid ended the stream and started cleaning up around the living room.

That’s when they all noticed that Pezzy was still sitting on the couch. He was not making any move to move either, so naturally, Droid, being the nosey guy he is, asked about it. “Are you really gonna let this opportunity go? They practically asked you to meet in their room.”

“We’re both drunk,” Pezzy groaned. “I’m not gonna take advantage of them like that. We’ll talk in the morning or something.”

“Are you sure you’ll even remember it in the morning?” Puffer asked as Grizzy came back with water bottles for everyone.

“The love of my life just admitted that they found me hot. I will definitely remember this in the morning,” Pezzy sighed before standing and heading to his room for the night.

The next morning, the house was eerily quiet when I walked into the kitchen. There was a note on the table, saying that Grizzy and Droid went to Puffer’s house for the night. I just shrugged to myself and moved around the kitchen. I opened a bottle of Sprite and left it open on the counter while I started making breakfast. Not anything too complex, just simple eggs.

It did not take long for Pezzy to come walking into the kitchen and sit at the island. I turned my head back to see him with his head resting against his forearms on the granite. I chuckled to myself before asking, “How do you want your eggs?”

“Scrambled, please,” He groaned as he turned his head to look at me. That’s when he noticed that his view was blocked by the Sprite bottle. “What’s with the Sprite? Isn’t it a bit early for soda?”

“Flat Sprite is the best cure for a hangover,” I replied as I mixed up and cooked the eggs. “I think I ran out of ibuprofen last time, and we could split it if you want. We’ll need to talk about last night at some point. Grizzy and Droid won’t be back until later.”

“Why don’t we go for lunch?” Pezzy offered as he took a couple of drinks of the Sprite. “We could take the bike.”

“I literally just made eggs,” I groaned holding out the pan for him to see that they were almost finished cooking.

“Give it to the dog,” He laughed, standing up to wrap his arms around my waist as he leaned his head on my shoulder. “It’ll be my treat.”

“As long as I get to rev your bike at least once, I’m down,” I countered, leaning back into his chest.

“You can rev it all you want,” He smirked, rubbing his face in my neck.

“Okay, you ruined it,” I laughed as I pushed away from him. “Go get ready while I give this to the dog.”

~~ Part 2 ->

~~~~~

#pezzy x reader #pezzy #pezzy x you #pezzy x y/n #big puffer #bigpuffer #elastic droid #elasticdroid #grizzy #youtuber oneshot #youtube #youtuber x reader #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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leclsrc · 2 years

Text

mr. nice guy ✴︎ ms47

genre: 18+, pwp (very little plot), very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.3k (of smut. you’ve been warned)

Mick Schumacher is the paddock’s golden boy. He likes upholding this reputation, but there’s something nagging at him lately that makes it... difficult.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… penetrative sex, anal sex; like descriptive anal, dirty talk (praise central!!), crying, breeding, rough sex, size kink, some squirting?, requires suspension of belief regarding the inner workings of anal lol

hope you like it everyone! :) i finished it early so revising can kiss my butt ahhaaha.

Mick has a secret.

It’s more of a problem than a secret (to him at least), and it concerns you. But it’s not that he feels the spark is gone, and it’s definitely not that he feels like breaking things off with you. Between you both, everything’s been good and steady despite how demanding his career is. Sometimes, if time permits, you’ll go out to dinner during a race weekend, or even spend more than a few days with each other.

Point is—he’s more than happy with your relationship. Even the sex is good, and like everything else, you two are just compatible in that department. Up until last month, actually, Mick had been okay. And then Lando just had to open his loud mouth during a game of poker in Charles’ hotel room, during a conversation about a girl he’d slept with the night before.

“I didn’t know girls were into that,” George had said, curious. Nobody was really paying attention to the poker anymore, everyone turned toward Lando. He’d smiled, a smug, cheeky little git.

“Oh, some are. But if you want to try, chances are you’ll be the one asking.”

“Really?” Mick had interjected. He’d been quiet for the duration of the discussion, so it comes as a bit of a surprise. George and Lando had shared a smirk, a look. Then Lando’d said passively: “Yeah, Mick. Didn’t pin you as a guy who’d be into that, though.”

“Hmm,” Mick mused. He didn’t pin himself as that kind of guy either. Sex with you isn’t necessarily vanilla—it can get rough—but for some reason, Mick just isn’t that guy. But with Lando, being into that had made sense. His sexcapades always have a thrill to them, an edge.

“Yeah,” Charles had quipped, smirking now, too. “Because… well, you’re a nice guy, Mick.”

He is a nice guy. A sweet guy. Fans call him cute all the time. So he figures this new pressing dilemma won’t press. Except it does press—thoughts of being able to play with you, possess you that way irk him well into the night.

So, now, Mick’s faced with the resulting problem-and/or-secret, and it won’t be solved unless he tells you. Because, really: how does any sane guy respectfully tell his girlfriend he wants to fuck her ass?

He’ll try. Anyway, he figures the timing is perfect: you’ve taken time off work to come and visit him for a week at the Las Vegas launch. As soon as you’d arrived at his room, he had you on his bed being fucked within an inch of your life—an instance that repeated itself many times over the course of the last few days.

Mick tries to trace the reasons why he feels a bit shy about telling you. Maybe because everyone thinks he’s a sweet guy, and sweet guys aren’t into things like these. Even if you know he gets a little less sweet in bed, he thinks this is still uncharted territory for the both of you.

“Babe?” He calls, snapping out of his reverie.

“Still changing,” you yell, muffled by the door to the bathroom.

He gets up, stretches, and knocks twice anyway; the sight of you unclothed isn’t novel to him. You open it and stare up. “Yeah?”

“I need to get my AirPods, I think I left them on the vanity.”

“Oh, fuck. Sure. Come in.” You let the door open all the way and he enters, pressing a kiss to your hair as he searches for his earphones. You’re half-dressed, in a tiny tee and lace panties, hair disheveled and thrown over one shoulder. You bend over to rifle through your luggage and he gulps. He’s a sweet guy.

You huff, yanking a pair of jeans out of your suitcase. “I have no good clothes anymore.”

“Nonsense. Everything looks great on you,” your boyfriend replies, taking his AirPods from where they rest on the dresser.

You smile and scoff playfully, placing the jeans back inside before pulling out a dress. “The Mick Schumacher complimenting me? God, what’d I ever do to deserve this?” You turn to the large mirror, holding the dress in front of your body to envision how it might look. From this angle, your back is to him, ergo, he can see your pert ass clearly, flexing with every pose you make for the dress. He blinks hard.

You even lift your hair into a makeshift bun to try and see how the dress looks, but still you seem frustrated. “It looks great, babe,” he cuts in. “I promise.”

“Does it?” You turn back around to show him the dress, pouting. “I dunno. Something’s a bit off. Or maybe the shirt’s just ruining the look.” You toss him the dress, which lands on his face—it’s satin and smells like you. When it slides off his face and into his grip, you’re already halfway through tugging your shirt off.

Underneath you’re wearing a bra that matches the underwear—pretty, white lace—and Mick feels his heart thrum heavily. He’s a sweet guy, though. So he tosses you your dress when you reach out for it and watches you pull it on for real this time. “Huh,” you muse. “You were right.”

“Of course I was,” he says with a laugh, coming up behind you. His height advantage lets his chin rest comfortably on your head. “You look very pretty.”

“Mmm?” You ask with a light giggle, leaning backwards. “Danke, Mickie. What time do you need to be on the paddock?”

“In two hours. Minimum,” he says, his big hand resting on your waist. He lets it slide downward, until he’s at the top of your thigh, where the dress sits. He pinches the hem, traces it until he’s touching the back of your dress. “Don’t worry. No rush.”

“No rush…” You repeat, nodding, letting him feel you up, encouraging it.

You shudder, feeling his hand venture underneath your dress, in the process raking it up. Everything happens in the mirror, like you’re watching it in real-time—Mick’s teasing, his slight smile, the way his eyes have totally darkened.

Already growing wet, you reach your hand behind you and it wraps around Mick’s bicep for leverage. It’s solid, defined under your grip, and it makes you even more aroused.

His hand rakes your dress up to your waist, so he gets a clear view of your panties. You meet his gaze, lidded and impossibly aroused, in the mirror. “This the pair I bought you?” You bite a smile back and nod. You remember the day he gifted this particular set to you; it’d come to your apartment in a pink box. You’d written him a thank you text and a This is so unnecessarily pricey Mickie, to which he’d replied with Nonsense, send me a picture. “I like it,” you say hoarsely.

“Ah, believe me, so do I,” he groans, his head coming down to press against your neck. “More than like. I love how good you look. All for me, yeah? You’re my pretty girl.”

You shiver at the show of possession, and your grip tightens as you nod. You’ve grown quiet, an air of anticipation surrounding you both. “You like that,” he says, and it’s more of a statement than a question. “You like being my pretty girl, huh? All dolled up and so, so good for me.”

“For you,” you confirm. “Yes.”

“Can you trust me?” He asks. And then, to push you further, “Will you be good for me?” His fingers travel to your front, press against the seat of your thong. His touch is strong and persistent, and he stuffs the fabric a bit into your cunt, just to watch you squirm; just to feel how wet you are. Not to make you wait, no. Not to edge you either. Because, he reminds himself before the strands of his sanity leave, because he’s a sweet guy.

“Always,” you say, shuddering. Already you’re showing signs of wanting to cum.

“Come on, let’s go to the bed, baby.” You nod and follow silently, letting him lift you up and lay you down. You giggle, watching him stare down at you before reaching out for him, craving a kiss.

Like always, Mick gives you what you want, dipping down to press your mouths together.

It turns hot and messy quick, your arms coming up to wrap around his broad shoulders, trying to pull him closer, feel him against you, his hands all over you. He grunts, stumbling a little, and parts from you, much to your chagrin.

You sit up, shifting yourself onto your knees so you’re more-or-less level—except he’s standing up and you’re on the edge of the bed. Your hair covers your eyes a little when you lean closer, pouting.

“Come on, fuck me, Mick.”

“Yeah?” He asks. When he’s horny, and when you’re coaxing him like this, like a vixen, like something he just can’t deny, his words get sharper, actions harsher. You’d look at your bruises in the mirror—angry thumb prints, hickeys where your tops and dresses won’t give it away (he’s a gentleman in that regard), bruised knees from bad race nights when he needs to fuck your throat raw and rid himself of frustrations—and smile. “You want me to stretch this little pussy out?”

He pushes you backwards again, and you flip yourself over, wiggling your ass at him. “Please?”

Christ, it’s like you know his pressing secret, like you want him to let it out, and stuff you full, and make you dumb.

He blinks. He’ll be sweet about this. As sweet as he can get, anyway. He sheds his shirt and gets behind you, holds you still when he tugs your thong to the side. His palms are big and rough against your skin, a bruising grip left on your hips, but still you can feel how gentle he is with you underneath it all.

You hear him pull his cock out, the elastic of his sweats stretching. He slides his cock in between your cheeks, and even through there you can feel how heavy, how big it is against you. You whimper at the feeling of it. “Come on, Mick,” you try again, voice airy from impatience. “I’ll take it.”

He lets his cock glide messily over your pussy, lubing himself up from the slick gushing out of you. You get wet so easily, he thinks. One touch, one word, and you’re like putty around him, needy and clingy and oh so aroused. You’re so wet, he mumbles, stupefied. You clench around nothing, grow even wetter.

He pushes inside then, impatient as you are.

A series of fucks erupt from his mouth, finally sinking into your entrance. It’s just the tip, but still you’re tight around him, your legs shuffling to accommodate the stretch. “I’ve got you,” he says. His vision’s cloudy. He keeps thinking—if you’re this tight now, this good, this pliant, what more if you let him fuck you there?

You’re dizzy with pleasure—every fuck with Mick is as dizzying as the last. You urge him to stuff you further, your whimpers lost in your head, but you can hear them faintly. Please, Mick. Yes, deeper, fuck, more. And, as if to encourage you, he goes, yeah? Like it like this, baby?

He knows you do. He’s sweet that way, always giving and giving. But you know something’s different—you feel it, even as you gasp from the feeling of his dick fucking you open. He wants something different. Something more.

You’re so tight, so sensitive, throbbing hotly around his dick. He fucks you hard and dirty, keeping a hand on your back, making sure you’re always in an arch, perfect and poised just for him. Your eyes flutter. Mick, you say, but it’s lost in your own moans. I’m so close—I might—fuck—

He grunts, feels you tighten around him. He fucks you harder, splits you open. You let him. “Go on,” he says, and the authority of his voice brings you both back to a state of semi-lucidity. “Go, make a mess of yourself on my dick.”

He utters the instructions with an edge to his voice. It’s husky and a bit lazy, but still you follow, letting the coil in your stomach unknot itself. Your jaw hangs open, eyes rolling backwards, letting your moans leave you noisily and breathily. More, Mickie. I want all of it. I want more. You’re so wet, you’re practically squirting slick all over him.

You’re cumming hard and slow, dragging out your orgasm by fucking back against him. Each thrust is punctuated with a squelch of your cunt around him. You dig your nails into the cotton duvet, feeling slick run down your thighs. His words spur you on, and his pace doesn’t let up, instead going harder, deeper. You cum so fast for me, princess. Gonna go again?

His shaft is almost dripping with how much you’ve released on it, a wet noise sounding every time he moves. Come on, he coaxes gently. Give me another. You’ll give me another, hmm?

Yes, Mickie, you moan. It’s loud and unashamed. Yes, fuck.

Still sensitive, clenching and squeezing, you let the stimulation take you over, drown you until you’re barely breathing, let alone speaking coherently. Already the coil twists again, and you anticipate the pending orgasm, the high, the release. You let Mick fuck it out of you. You let him give.

You cum again, building up and up and then crashing messily around him, whimpers leaving your mouth and shudders racking your body.

It hurts, almost, with how intense it is; it comes in the midst of heavy, rough thrusts pressing against the deepest parts of you. You’re almost wailing with how good it hurts, your arms giving and letting you collapse on the sheets. You convluse weakly, feeling him pull out, a gasp leaving your mouth.

In response, Mick presses a reassuring hand to the small of your back. You breathe deep, tension leaving your body, walls still fluttering. You’re so good for me, princess. You take whatever I give you. My good girl. It comes in waves, the praise.

He wrangles you atop him, so you’re semi-straddling him. Somehow, lying on his hard, sweaty chest, with your legs on either side of him, both of you barely clothed—you still in the set, Mick in his boxers only—feels so much more comfortable than the bed. “How are you, baby?”

You nod.

“So good. You take me so well every time.”

“You didn’t cum, Mickie,” you pout into his chest. You grind lazily against him, smiling when you feel his dick swell against your still-dripping cunt. He grunts. You’re insatiable, he says. Absolutely crazy.

“I want it,” you say quietly, into his ear, hot. “Give it to me again. Again.”

It’s like time slows, when your lips bite into his earlobe, your fingers lithe and dextrous between your bodies, tracing over the solid indents of his abs. His own arm sneaks over your waist, wraps around it, lets it rest over the sticky skin, and thinks. Maybe this is when he can solve his problem, let the secret spill out of him.

He grits his teeth, brought back to reality when your grip moves south to palm at his dick. “Princess,” he says, breathing unsteady. “You trust me, right?”

The air shifts. You stare down at him with big eyes, glassy from your previous stimulation. And you nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay.” He says. “Good.” He brings his other hand up to his mouth, covering two fingers with spit, and then, like a dam has broken: “M’gonna play with your ass, princess.”

Your eyes widen, but he starts nodding, smiling that sweet smile of his. So this is what he wanted. You inhale shakily, your hand leaving his dick to find purchase on his abdomen again. He heaves the both of you into a sitting position, so you can both breathe easier, but also so his access to your ass is easier, better.

He covers his digits with spit again. “It’ll feel good.” He reaches behind you and your hands are iron on his shoulders, your body rigid with anticipation, but also excitement.

He spreads you open, sinks his hands into the flesh there. “Trust me. Be a good girl.” He smears spit over the rim of your ass, thinks fuck, finally. “Relax for me.”

Ah, you whimper. Ah. He feels you take his cock in your grip, jerking it twice, slurring a whimper into his ear: Fuck me, please. And because he knows you need a distraction from the stretch, he gives you the familiar kind, his dick tight and hard in your cunt.

He thrusts upward to hit your sweet spot so you’re distracted when he’s rubbing tight circles, coaxing relaxation out of your ass. He feels your tension roll away. He’s got you like putty again. You’re caught up in the feeling, of bouncing on him; his hand momentarily leaves your ass to unclasp your bra and palm over your tits like a man starved.

Absently he thinks, is this what a nice guy does? Fucks his girlfriend’s pussy raw so he can claim her ass next? He squeezes his eyes shut, lets the thoughts filter out.

A strangled moan leaves you when he breaches your little hole. Just a bit more, he thinks, letting his finger back out, rubbing again, dipping lower to collect slick from your gushing cunt. He can tell you’re going to like this. “Okay?” You nod desperately, bouncing faster. Your slick is everywhere.

One hand leaves your tits to rub at your clit; the other stays rubbing circles over your rim, occasionally breaching. You nod. More, Mickie. Needy again. His fingers are wet and insistent against your clit and your ass, and the sensations flood you, knocking you into a state of euphoria. He stretches your ass open around one of his fingers, rubbing faster as he goes, feeling you get wetter.

“Mmmmf m’god,” you murmur, dazed. “Mick, I—I want more, fuck.” You cant yourself backwards to catch him.

He thrusts it, experimentally, collects more slick to make the glide easier. I know, he coos. I know, princess. Why don’t you give me one more? And you nod, because it’s easy, like this—when his dick is hard and deep in you. You bounce, each moan louder than the last, until finally your thighs are trembling and you’re releasing everywhere.

It’s a lot—a lot of slick, a lot of pleasure. You can’t tear yourself away from his cock, or his hand insistently pressing into you from behind. You whimper, sensitive, eyes vacant with overstimulated pleasure. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, and you moan into it.

“Just fill me up,” you beg. “I can take it.” He uses your release to shove another finger in, relaxing you further, drawing moans out of you that interrupt your flow of thought. It feels so new. It feels so good.

“Patience, princess,” he says. “I’m being nice this way.” He wants to split you open now, to be rough with it, to hear you whimper, to stuff you full of his cock and then his cum. But he’s patient. He’s sweet. He can wait.

He pulls out, rubbing the tip of his dick along the wetness of slick there. Your fingers dig into his broad shoulders, anticipating the breach. It comes, a dull burn that’s muted and slow, slow, slow. Mick grunts. “Can—” he tries, but the feeling is getting to him, the innate desire to fuck you stupid, to take advantage of how tight you feel. “Can you relax for me a little? Loosen up for me, princess.”

Okay, you murmur. I will. And you do, nodding as you allow yourself to relax. You can’t fathom the stretch. Mick’s already big—big shoulders, big arms, and feeling him so deep in you is addicting to a fault.

He slips in further, eliciting a moan from both of you. Expletives leave his mouth in rapid German, and he tries to wedge a sorry in there for the language—but he can’t, just keeps grunting as he wrestles himself deeper inside you.

Relax, he grits. Almost there, so good, baby. You lean into him, nodding, letting him coax you through it, through the stretch, the pleasure. He wishes he could see how well you take him, but he knows that after this, it’s going to happen a lot. He’ll get his chance then, to bend you over, or to flatten your legs against your chest, make you take it better.

Give it to me, Mickie, you whimper. Your hole’s so tight around him, pussy wet and dripping everywhere; he doubts he’ll last long with how you squeeze him. Your tiny hole, so little just earlier, is stretching so well just to take him.

He grunts. He’s so deep in you. He’s positive you can feel him in your stomach. When he finally bottoms out, after a few moments of prolonged silence (save for the intermittent moans), you both exhale. “You’re,” you say, breathless. “You’re so deep inside me.”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Love this dick,” you hum mindlessly, smiling, starting to grind on it. And fuck, why’d he ever keep this secret for so long?

Once you’ve started moving, he takes it as a greenlight to go faster, progressively speeding up his thrusts until they’re sloppy, loud with the noise of your slick and his precum. His hands are big on your waist, controlling how you move and how you stay still. “Fuck, baby,” he says, desperate. “You’re so perfect.”

For you, Mickie, you moan.

He doesn’t realize how brash his actions are until he has to readjust his grip and sees indents of his thumbs on your hip, ones that will no doubt leave dark bruises. But he ignores them, and ignores the throb of arousal that ignites through him seeing you so wrecked and debauched like this, and thrusts harder. “Shit,” he grits. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You encourage him, bouncing back to meet his thrusts, embracing the burn of it. You’re certain you’ve cum twice already with how spent you feel, but the pleasure comes in waves every time he thrusts, sending you into a new kind of dizzy. You can feel just how split open you are, because your boyfriend is thick, and you can sense how wide open you are just from how well his dick fits. He sizzles into a space of just talking, talking, talking, to somehow redirect the stimulation—it falls into praise, questions, mumbled pet names.

Gonna fuck your little ass so full, he grunts. Full of my cock, my cum.

You cry out. Yes, you respond. Mickie—I want it.

I know you want it, he says. He mumbles something nondescript in German, voice heavy and rough. Then: Wanna take this dick, hmm?

He pulls out to the tip, then sinks back inside fast. It’s like whiplash, like the stretch has been played back at twice the speed. You moan loud, open-mouthed and desperate, nodding. Your mind is cloudy, cock-drunk, the way you always get when Mick’s been fucking you this long.

Gonna, he says, guttural. Gonna fuck this little hole. Stretch it out.

Then he’s fucking you fast and dirty, wetter and wetter, and you’re cumming again, watching yourself gush slick all over his lower abdomen and his dick, making the glide faster, easier.

You whimper all through it, prolonging your own release so you never have to let go of this euphoria. You hear him like he’s six feet below you—good girl, good girl, good fucking girl, yeah. Give me another.

Another—it seems impossible. But still you say, “Yeah, I’ll give you another,” your voice sticky with thirst. He fucks another one out of you, his pace rapid fast, dick pressing perfectly into your ass. It’s messy, your cum is everywhere, but you wedge another gush of slick out, and that’s what does it.

This time it’s you asking: cum in me, Mick. Make me full, please.

Mick looks down, watches you take him, your release everywhere, and grits his teeth. He presses his forehead to your bare shoulder, grunting, then filling you up. You moan at the feeling, already anticipating how good it’ll feel when he pulls out, lets it gush out of you in spurts.

You both breathe heavily. Then: “So, anal, huh?”

And then you’re laughing, albeit tiredly, Mick lifting you up to run you both a bath where you make him cum one more time.

Later that night, when you’re asleep (a day of racing and anal sex is not for the weak, you’d said before skipping on Haas-sponsored dinner), he retreats to Lando’s room to play poker.

“Where’s your girl?” The Brit asks, a cheeky smile on his face. “She passed out?”

“Woah, locker room talk much,” Alex says defensively from the couch. “Keep it down, you nymphos.”

“Just trying to gauge if Mick here tired his girlfriend out.”

Mick reviews his cards and offers a smile. “I would never.”

“Yeah, Mick’s vanilla,” George jokes. “Lando, stop bringing your porn addiction into our poker games.”

“Vanilla?!” Alex says, interest reignited.

“Have you seen the guy?” Lando points blank at Mick, who stares back with an amused smile. “The press calls him F1’s golden boy. The cutest little puppy on the paddock. He just isn’t into tiring sex.”

“Let alone”—George stifles a laugh—“what you’re into, Lando.”

Mick hums, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m a sweet guy.”

#f1 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher x reader #f1 x reader #mick schumacher drabble #mick schumacher blurb

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heyhilana · 1 year

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Heyy!! I'm such a huge fan of your Javier Peña works and I was wondering if I could ask for a smutty fic request where he's had a huge crush on you for the longest time but could never do anything about it since you had a bf.

What he didn't know was that your bf was an ass and he finds out he hasn't been taking care of you properly if yk what I mean ;).

I had this idea from a quote: "If he doesn't wanna make you feel pretty, I'll show you how fucking pretty you are." or smth like that.

Ofc the details and everything is up to you! I just really loved the main idea and figured you might as well :)

If it doesn't interest you it's okay,

Thanks xx

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for your request and I had a blast writing it. Javi is one of my favorite characters to write for and I hope you enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed it. As always, I’m a softie for Javi, so Javi being a softie goes hand in hand and I slightly apologize for the length since I tend to go overboard <3 Drink some water so you can be healthy (that also goes for everyone reading this lol)

Summary: A fresh break-up with your boyfriend drives you to your childhood friend Javi’s house to escape it all. But your forever home is found when you realize how relieved you feel after the fallout and how safe you feel in Javi’s presence.

A/N: Hi lovelies! To note before I get to my thank you’s, in this story, there is the use of disposable cameras, so this story does not have a certain time it is set in. I figured it would be easier to not have one so there would not be any discrepancies with time frames. Also, reader is wearing a dress so sorry to those that don't like dresses :( But yeah, dress made sense for this, and I didn't put in that the reader was wearing a bra because well, be free. :) But moving on from that, I want to say thank you all for taking the time to read my stories, request or not. To still see notis popping up every time I log in is a dream come true. I write on and off since inspiration will strike, and then I’m back to my usual writer's block. But every time I come back for a spell, I feel so much love, and I just want to say thank you <3 I hope this proves my love for you all, but drink water and enjoy yourselves! Hugs and love :)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f! reader (I'm pretty sure there's no use of Y/N here)

Warnings: (Hey, this is a ride in itself) 18+ for starters <3 Finally some protected sex because safe sex is great sex, kids. Oral f!receiving, biting, love bites, hickeys, fingering, small handjob, and so much Spanish you would think I'm a native speaker, but alas, I just use translators baby :) All translations will be put at the end!

Word Count: 8k (Need I say more about my word counts LMAO)

(this man is so fine)

You knock on the door, heart beating out of your chest. It was second nature to arrive at his doorstep after a particularly interesting day. Javi answered and opened it, curiosity radiating on his face. But before he could say anything, you walked in.

“Well, come in.” Sarcasm drips in his tone as you set your bag on the coffee table.

“When have I ever asked to come in?” You point out and sit on the couch, enveloping you with comfort.

“You stopped doing that after I let you in the first time.” He sat down next to you after he locked up, turning down the sports game he had on the tv.

“And you do the same at my house.” He shook his head as he turned his body to face you more.

“Fair enough. But I thought you were going out on a date with Angel?”

If everything went to plan, you would be returning to his place to finish it off, but fate would intervene in the adventures of your love life.

“Uhm…” You couldn’t find the words to say what happened, making Javi more confused.

“Hey, talk to me. What happened?”

“I broke it off.” You got out, and his face changed.

You knew this would go one of two ways, either with the both of you going through the ritual to get you through the breakup or him going to your exes’ place to beat the shit out of him. You had to talk him out of it multiple times, but when you would see your exes in passing glances, you could tell they were spooked, to say the least.

“What? Are you okay?” He moved closer to you to see if you were okay, but despite the normal ache you would have in your heart, it just wasn’t there.

“I’m fine, Javi. I just found out some things today and I had to take care of it.” If anything, you felt annoyance and regret for that relationship, but not pain.

“What did you find out?”

“You know Valentina? Valentina Perez from two towns over?” You asked, yet when you thought about it, who couldn’t forget her? On the other side of town, she was on her way to greatness, and most men fawned over her. You wouldn’t be surprised if you saw her in a magazine one day.

“Yeah, I know her. She went to our middle school right?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“What does this have to do with her?”

“Well, I went to the store this morning to pick up some groceries. I was going to go to the one closer, but they were out of the oil I needed. So I went to her town because I knew that store had what I needed. But, just as I was going to cross the street, I saw Valentina with Angel. And not in a friendly way because they were holding hands, and he was kissing her cheek.” Javi’s jaw tightened, and his hand curled into a fist. But he refrained.

“What happened next?” He gritted through his teeth.

You knew he was fuming, given that he never liked Angel from the start when you mentioned that Angel wanted to take you on a date. Hell, he practically tried to talk you out of it, but you didn’t budge, making you both keep quiet on your respective opinions as you knew it wouldn’t end well. After all, how could you forget your last conversation about Angel?

“I’m telling you he’s no good for you. He’s terrible!” He wouldn’t dare raise his voice at you, but you could tell he was holding back.

“You don’t even know him! Only stories, Javi. Angel has shown me how much he cares about me and makes an effort.” You reasoned, but it fell on deaf ears, given Javi’s one-track mind regarding your choices in men.

He pinched the skin in between his brows, taking a deep breath. “Escuchame. I don’t know him personally, but everyone else that does tells me the same thing. He is not who you think he is and he’s just lying to you. I don’t want you to have to find out the hard way when you don’t deserve to.”

He wasn’t wrong, given that many men in your hometown disliked him, but he was different with you. It didn’t matter who protested. It was what he showed you. That was what mattered in your heart.

You sighed, feeling yourself getting nowhere in this conversation. “Why do you care so much Javi? Why do you care so much about who I date when I don’t do this to you?”

It was true, given that you kept some opinions to yourself about his extensive dating history, no matter how much you didn’t like them. Why he couldn’t do the same for you was infuriating.

“Because I love you. You’re family, and I won’t sit back and watch you make a bad choice when you can do better.” He was at his wits end, which you could hear in how he said he loved you. But it didn’t feel right. With the way he said family. Although you knew it was said out of comfort and not ill intention, the way it tugged on your heartstrings in an unpleasant chord when it shouldn’t have done anything but reassure you was strange.

“What’s better for me then since you have all the answers?” His lips were pressed in a firm line before he spoke, trying to choose his words carefully before he couldn’t think.

“Anybody else! It’s not that hard to find one.” You rolled your eyes at him. Not that hard, he says. If it were so easy then this conversation wouldn’t be happening now.

“You judge every guy I pick so it’s clearly not that easy when you make it your life’s mission to find something wrong with them!”

“But I was right about all of them. Miguel cheated, Wilmar lied about everything, and Jesus did both. They were terrible for you, and so is Angel. He’s the worst out of all of them.” You hated his knack for laying things out in a way that made your point seem mute.

“You being right about them is not the point. I don’t know why you can’t be happy for me and give him a chance when he hasn’t done anything wrong. Those three had red flags as soon as I met them. Angel hasn’t done anything of the sort and you know that. Please, Javi, give him a chance or at least be polite to him if you have to see him. I don’t expect you to like him just like I don’t like your girlfriends, but I don’t need constant criticism. Can you do that?” He wanted to object, but you could see the resignation to this conversation.

“I can do that.” You were relieved, but that feeling over his words still left you puzzled.

“Thank you. I love you.” Your I love you’s you shared with each other were nothing that crossed your mind for more than a second. But this one was different in the higher octave in your tone, the way it strummed a new chord with your heartstrings. Surely you just imagined it, just the heat of the moment that would soon cease to cross your mind by tomorrow.

“I love you too. I only do this because of that.” He opened his arms up to you, and you hugged him, his cologne filling your nostrils and washing your nerves away. He felt like home, and not in the way you felt when you were kids. The hugs you shared were out of comfort because you were each other’s safe haven. It was the kind where you didn’t want to let go because this was where you belonged, not for a second, minute, hour, or a day. But long-lasting.

You were brought back to reality when he touched your knee, the touch sending electricity through you. “I saw them and turned around to return to my car, but she saw me. He didn’t since he didn’t run after me, but she called me when I got home and told me everything. She told me when they got together, how she didn’t know I was in the picture, and how he was with her because...” The words were stuck in your throat as you knew what would happen to Javi.

“Because what?” He was strained, and you were sure his blood was boiling red hot.

“Because he’s engaged to her. He proposed to her two weeks ago, the same day he canceled our bowling date. So I called him shortly after and blew up on him about everything I learned and how I felt overall. He swore that she was lying and that she was jealous over what we had but when I wouldn’t believe him, he told me that I deserved it because I didn’t do what he wanted.” His eyes widened before they narrowed, and his look screamed infuriated.

“I’m going to go over there and-” He shot off the couch, but you pulled on his hand.

“There’s no need to finish that sentence or hurt him so stop!” You pleaded with him, but he was seeing red and Angel’s face as he wanted to morph it into something unrecognizable.

“He needs to be taught a lesson. He hurt you, so I’ll be back.” He pulled his hand out of your grasp and walked to the door, but you got up to pull him back.

“Javi, please wait! Stay with me and forget about him. I won’t stop what you do in the morning but can you stay with me tonight like we normally do?” He knew what you were doing, but he could never say no to you when you gave him those eyes to stay. How could he say no when his heart yearned to be in your presence?

“I’ll stay for now. But tomorrow is different.” Somehow with the softness in his eyes, you knew he would listen to you in the morning.

“I can deal with that. But I’m not as heartbroken as I thought I would be.” You were somewhat dumbfounded by your lack of heartbreak, albeit happy that you wouldn’t spend your days crying. However, curiosity took up your thoughts. The nagging question of whether you were in love with him clouded your mind until Javi grabbed your hand.

“He still deserves to pay.” He rubbed your hand with the pad of his thumb, relaxing you and sending electricity through you.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t, and hopefully she’ll leave him too and he won’t have either one of us. But when I think about our timeline, it was bound to end anyways. He didn’t want to buy me flowers, he always prioritized work or rather, her over me. I would try to plan things and there was always an excuse. And…well I can’t say it now.” You turned away and walked back to the couch, embarrassment making the heat rise to your cheeks.

“You’ve already said a lot just now and you’ve told me everything growing up. What’s more going to do?” He asked as he sat back down next to you.

“I can’t, Javi. It’s weird to say that to you.” You looked away and were sure you would die of embarrassment any minute now.

“Hey, mirame,” He asked, and you brought your head back up. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. I share everything with you and you do the same so what’s different now?”

“Sometimes you’re a little too honest when you could leave some details out from your dates.” Countless dates he told you about ended with your wishing that you could erase some of the details from your head and the occasional pang in your heart that didn’t seem to dull with time.

“I’m never a person to leave out details,” His tone made you laugh, and the smile that followed on his face made you feel warm again. “Pero dime. I’m sure it can’t be worse than what you’ve already told me.” Oh, how he would be proven wrong.

“He never made me cum.” In all the times you’ve surprised Javi, you never expected his eyes to widen that much at your confession.

“Not once?”

“Never. I would always fake it and then finish when I got home.” The sigh he let out as he ran his fingers through his hair was surprising, given that you didn’t think it would phase him this much.

“He was that oblivious then.” The more he tried to think the opposite, the more you hated bursting his bubble.

“It’s not so much that but he just…didn’t care about it? It was more so “I want to get off, so I will,” and then I would be there waiting for it to be done at times.” The confessions kept flowing out, and the more you spoke, the more Javi was taken aback.

“Jesus. It’s a fucking requirement for who you’re sleeping with to cum.” Although it was certainly not the time for feelings to arise, it didn’t stop you from pressing your legs together absentmindedly. “I’m sorry, Bonita, I just have to ask…why did you stay for so long? You were with him for what? 2 years?”

“Almost 3 now that I think about it,” You sighed at the time lost, time wasted over someone who was never worth it in the first place. “But I don’t know, I think I stayed out of convenience, not so much out of love because when you put so much time in, you’re willing to stick it out longer than you should. He might’ve done the same, but thankfully it’s over now. I don’t feel so used anymore.” Relief washed over you to know that breaking up with him was the best thing you could’ve done for yourself after avoiding it for so long.

“You never deserved that. You’re worth so much more than what Angel gave you.” You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but embarrassment wasn’t the culprit. Instead, the butterflies swarmed through your stomach in a surge.

“T-Thank you, Javi, but you don’t have to say those things to make me feel better. I’m okay, really.” You gave him a warm smile, but you could see his eyes were serious.

“I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, Bonita. I’m saying it because I mean it. You’re everything he never deserved and you deserve everything you want out of a relationship.” His tone was more soothing than ever with you, softer than anything you could remember in all the times he comforted you and showed care for you.

Suddenly, the question that had popped into your head from the time you were teens to when you graduated high school, and in recent years reared into focus again. Is he in love with me? You had done everything you could think of to answer your question, studying his behavior, asking specific questions to gauge his thoughts, and even getting involved with your cousin’s love of tarot cards to get a sign. Blame the teenage hormones that got to you. Still, you were too afraid to ask and almost certain that it was the bliss of a teenage crush that would misread actions and words as affirmations of love. It only increased ten-fold at your graduation when he pulled you into a small corner as everyone was finding their families to have some alone time.

“Javi, where are we going? We have to get to our families.” You asked as he led you to a small area near the back of your high school’s football field.

“We’ll find them in a minute. But I know I won’t get much time with you later, so I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you.” You were happy from the day itself, but hearing him say he was proud of you made you grin.

“Aw, Javi, I’m proud of you as well. We did it and now we get to start our new lives.” You could see the energy shift in Javi after what you said, puzzling you.

“Yeah, the future is near.” He looked away from you for a moment before you grabbed his hand.

“Hey. Are you okay?” You asked, and he forced a smile for you.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Are you lying?” You raised a brow at him, and he sighed.

“Maybe a little bit. It’s just…when you think about the future you think about losing people to new jobs, new people in your life, even moving away from home. All those things happen and it’s scary.” Laredo was all you both knew, and sometimes it was hard to let go and move on to get to do something else with your lives, but you didn’t know until now what that made him feel.

“Hey, no matter what happens, I’ll be right by your side, okay? No matter where we go, who we’re with, or what we do for a living, I’ll drop everything to be there for you.” His smile was genuine this time as he pulled you into a hug. You rested your head on his chest as he rested his head atop yours.

“And I’ll do the same. I love you.” You could hear the falter in his voice, awakening something in you that was threatening to leap out of your throat.

“I love you too. Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked again as you pulled out of his embrace.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Also, you look really nice. I like what you did to your hair.” He moved you off-topic, and although you wanted to press more, you let it go.

“Thank you, Javi. I was hoping it would look okay on me.” You smoothed out your hair.

“You look more than okay. Mucho hermosa.” There was a glint in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, maybe something you hadn’t noticed. But how he looked at you made you feel like no one else was there. That you were alone but together in the other’s presence, that nothing could go wrong in the little world you created.

“T-thank you, b-but we should get going. I’m sure we need to take some photos.” Suddenly it felt harder to breathe, the need to say everything and anything simultaneously consuming you until you found an exit because you knew what would happen if you didn’t.

“You’re right. Let’s get going.” He led the way, and you took a deep breath, hoping you could hold it together for all the pictures. When you walked around from the fence and up the street, your families were waiting for you.

“¡Ahí tienes! no sabíamos dónde ustedes los dos.” Your mother and Javi’s mother were crying to see you both in your cap and gowns. Both families came around to hug you one by one and congratulate you.

“We wanted to wait until some people left.” You lied, and they seemed to either buy it or not care as they took out their cameras.

“That’s fine. But take a picture together!” Javi’s mother asked, and you both got closer, and he wrapped an arm around you, which satisfied both of your mothers.

“Nuestros bebés.” They said in unison. You both looked at each other and laughed, knowing they kept their promise to cry at your graduation.

“Javi, get behind her!” Your mother asked him. You were surprised, not thinking they would ask him to do that pose.

“Si! Wrap your arms around her.” His mother agreed, and he was puzzled now.

“Are they trying to make us look like a couple?” He asked you as he got behind you and wrapped his arms around you. The move alone made a swarm of butterflies go through you, but you maintained your composure.

“I wouldn’t put it past them.” You answered as he moved his head down more for the camera.

“Mija, necesito que sonrias.” You smiled for them, and the way Javi’s head was just above the crook of your neck was comforting. All the hugs you had culminated into this, even if it didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. But to have him like this, you wouldn’t change anything.

And maybe that was why even when you moved out, you made a copy of that photo and kept it in your living room. Sure, memories could’ve been kept in a box, and there were other photos to use, but that photo was deep in your heart, the way he was deep in your soul.

With those memories that came flooding back, the question was imprinted into your mind, and you realized that this time, it wouldn’t leave until you got your long-awaited answer. “J-Javi? I feel like you’re leaving something out.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you so soon.” You shook your head in response to him.

“Digame. Te prometo que puedo tomar lo que me digas.” You wanted, no, needed to hear what he had to say, whether it was good, bad, or indifferent. You would regret it if you let it go like you did at your graduation or every other instance where the question popped into your head.

“You mean everything to me, and I promise I’m not just saying that. You remind me of this quote I would always hear. Tardé una hora en conocerte y solo un día en enamorarme. Pero me llevará toda una vida lograr olvidarte.” Tears welled in your eyes, your answer finally in reach and not just a dream that would never leave your mind.

“Javi, I never knew you felt that way.” You admitted, feeling your heart practically surge out of your chest.

He wiped your eyes and then held your face with one hand. “I’ve felt that way for a long time, and it never stopped. I’ve always wanted you to be happy even if it was not with me, but now that I have my chance I’m taking it. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Javi. I realized I loved you a few years back and it hasn’t changed for me since then.” He was surprised, and you wondered how he couldn’t see after all these years that you were irrevocably in love with him.

“¿Cuando?”

“Since we were teens, but it hit me at our graduation. Since then, I always had a little bit of hope but with who you were dating, I always pushed it down.”

He pinched the skin in between his brows with his other hand. “I never would’ve dated those girls if I knew you felt the same way. I always wanted you, and I want you right now.”

“And I want you and only you.”

Time stood still after that. The admission out there, hearts on the line, a breakup was long forgotten as he never made you feel what Javi made you feel. The list could go on with how Javi treated you miles better than any guy you dated: safe, loved, cared for, appreciated, and special. But the energy had shifted, the air grew thicker, tension rising between you of a “Should we, should we not?” that seemed to blur the already thin line of friends to lovers you hadn’t realized was eroded. But that question was answered when he kissed you, gentle at first yet firm.

You could faintly taste the whiskey on his lips, making you want more as it tasted better on him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it, which gave him a huskiness that you loved about him. You brought your hands up to his hair, finally raking through his curls as you had dreamed about doing for years. His other hand moved down to your body and slowly inched to your waist, careful not to overstep as you were still testing the waters. But you didn’t need to try anything when this was safe, exciting, and taking up your thoughts so that it would be all you would think about for days. You pulled a little on his hair, making him groan against your lips.

“Something you like?” You asked in between the kiss.

“Possibly,” Javi murmured before biting your lip, making you moan. He smiled against your lips when he heard you, and you knew that Javi would enjoy every bit of seeing what other sounds he could get out of you.

“A little noisy aren’t we?” He pulled back to brush the hair out of your face, and you rolled your eyes.

“I can keep quiet.” You tried to be serious, but he didn’t buy it.

“You’re not going to because I want to hear you, and I’ll get it out of you.” His confidence surprised you.

“Who says you’ll get it out of me?” You asked, but he didn’t answer, instead opting to kiss you again and, in the middle of it, tugging on your lip before biting again. You moaned again, and he smiled, knowing he had proved his point. But that was forgotten soon after as his kiss made you feel drunk. If there was ever a time when you accidentally kissed him before this, you probably wouldn’t have waited this long to kiss him. The urge to keep going was igniting more as each second passed, and you knew it wouldn’t cease fire until your deepest desire was fulfilled.

But then it increased ten-fold when his tongue pressed against your parted lips, making a shiver run through you. You opened them up without hesitation, allowing him to dive in just enough to experiment with you. With that, you could taste more of the whiskey, and the smell of his cologne intensified, making you clench your legs further, trying to quell your desire. But Javi felt your legs move and opened them up by pushing his hand down from your waist and between your legs, prying them open. His hand rested between your thighs, gripping a little, making you clench around nothing, given that you were wearing a dress and you could feel him fully. Oh, how badly you wanted him to remove the rest of your clothes so you could feel him skin-to-skin.

Perhaps your senses were overloaded, but his smell was intoxicating, his taste was addicting, to touch each other was electrifying, to hear how breathless he was as he kissed you, and to see how much he desired you was everything to you. With each second that passed, you craved more, and so did he, surprising you based on how he pulled you into his lap with one swift pull on your leg. His hands trailed up from your hips to your waist, holding you up as you grinded on his lips slowly.

“You’re a fucking tease.” He muttered, trailing his lips down to your chin and then jaw.

“What am I doing?” Your faked oblivious nature earned an eye roll from Javi.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” His voice had dropped an octave when you grinded more, his dick growing and grazing you when you couldn’t wait to pull him out of his pants.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, looking at him as you further tangled your fingers into his hair.

“Never.” He kissed down to your neck, making you suck in a breath. Sensitivity increasing with each kiss, you knew he was reaching your sweet spot. And once he did, the sound he elicited from you made him twitch in his pants. He wanted more out of you, to give you everything you didn’t have with Angel. He wanted to worship your body, learn every inch of you, and memorize each crevice to shower you with love. There would never be another day where you felt that you were simply there while those you were with did their business. Every day would be a day where Javi could tangle himself into the sheets with you, let your wanton sounds fill the room along with his moans and grunts, and fill you up with each climax in every position he could do with you. He had you in his grasp, and he was wrapped around your finger.

Javi sucked on your sweet spot, making you whine as you tried to get used to his kisses. He was leaving a hickey, and while you usually didn’t like them, the thought of hickeys or love bites lined on your skin, a reminder of your desires manifesting into reality, made your core begin to throb. And thankfully, he didn’t stop at one. He made his mark and kissed it one last time before grabbing your ass and smacking it. It caught you off guard, and the sound you let out let him know that you enjoyed it.

“Do you want to take this to my room?” He asked.

“I’m sure. Take me there, please.” Javi smiled at your answer, grabbing your hips and getting up so he could carry you to his room. He kissed you briefly as he found his way to his room, kicking the room open before letting you down onto your feet again. He pulled off his shirt before helping you pull down the straps of your dress. He loved this color on you, complimenting your skin perfectly no matter how much you said it was a simple dress. But to take it off of you, to see the way it draped off of your breasts, falling down to the floor and drinking you in, Javi knew that he would never get tired of the sight.

Immediately, he bent down to your chest to place more hickeys on you. He wanted the reminder just as much as you did, to wake up the following day and look at his form of art on your body. He left another, and another, making a little trail that he could trace with his finger when the sun would bathe his room, and he would wait for you to get up. Finally, he reached your breasts, and his breath hit your nipple, making it hard for him.

“I take it you’re sensitive here?” His smirk let you know that he knew the answer, but you wanted to play coy.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Just maybe you say,” He trailed off as he licked your nipple before putting it in his mouth, keeping eye contact with you as you moaned. He swirled his tongue around, making goosebumps rise. He hummed as your head rolled back, the vibrations making you ruin your panties little by little. You put your hands in his hair again, tugging as he moved to the next one to give them equal attention.

How did he make this so hot, turning you on before he even got to your core, where if you were lying down in bed you would be taking control and putting him inside you yourself. He was completely different than all the men you had been with. Rushed, lack of effort, lack of attention to your needs. But Javi paid close attention to you, seeing that if you liked the way he licked or nibbled on your nipple, he would do it again and again and again. His attention to you never waved, only it increased as he moved from your breasts down to your stomach, peppering kisses that made your heart skip a beat.

Javi reached for your panties, dragging his hands to their hem and looking at you to give the okay. You wanted him to pull them down, but you suddenly felt bad. “Javi, I want to make you feel good as well.” He got up and cupped your face.

“Déjame cuidarte. Te daré todo lo que te mereces.” Your heart melted, and your core ached at those words, but it didn’t shake your guilt.

“But-” It was on the tip of your tongue, and Javi knew what it was.

“Cariño, you are beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful to me.” He reassured you before he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“How can you say that when this is your first time seeing me like this?”

“Yes, this is my first time seeing you naked, pero, amo todo de tí,” He kissed your forehead first. “Amo tu frente, ojos, nariz, mejillas, labios, mandíbula, cuello, senos, estómago, caderas, muslos, pantorrillas, tobillos, pies.” He kissed you all the way down your body, touching you softly and finally kissing his hand to place onto your feet. “Y lo que aún no he explorado sé que me encantará es tu culo, y tu coño.” Javi kissed your clothed core, making you tense a bit.

You nodded your head and allowed him to pull them down, and you saw his mouth water when he could see your wetness pooling. You stepped out of your panties and spread your legs a little, allowing him to swipe a finger up your slit to gather your slick, putting his finger in his mouth and tasting you. The look that he gave you of pure adoration and attraction made you weak at the knees as he wasted no time in diving in with his mouth, tongue spreading your lips, and getting up everything he could in your slit. You were caught off guard by how he moved his hands up to your ass to keep you in place as he got up everything he could. But then, he latched on to your clit and sucked, licked, and hummed, making you moan his name like a chant that wouldn’t end until you came.

“Javi, fuck that feels really good.” You praised, tugging at his hair again as he hummed louder and sucked more feverishly. Pleasure, ecstasy, bliss, cloud nine, all the words you could think of couldn’t compare to how this felt. You were surprised you could think at this point given how the pleasure was building in your stomach at top speed, and when his skilled fingers pressed in between your folds and into your dripping core, you were gone. Matching pace with his mouth, taking his time to find your spot, and then hooking on to it repeatedly, the curl beckoning you to gush on his fingers. You didn’t need him to ask you, and before you could register what was happening, you came hard. Walls pulsing, clenching around Javi’s fingers. clit throbbing, overstimulated, yet you couldn’t pull off as he rode you through your orgasm. The hairs on your neck stood high as you slowly descended from your high. How you were still standing was a mystery, but you were grateful when he finally pulled you off to pick you up and lay you on the bed.

“God, you taste so fucking good.” He whispered as he kissed your hips before diving in again. His hands hooked onto your hips, allowing your thighs to press against his head as he lapped up everything. You gripped his sheets, whining as he fingered you again while licking your juices. He swapped between licking it off his fingers and pushing his tongue in to get it faster. You started to rock your hips against his mouth to get what you wanted, and he could feel his dick getting rock hard over how needy you were for him.

“Javi, fuck I-please don’t stop!” Your mind failed you at making a coherent and complete sentence, but he knew what you needed as he focused on sucking your clit and fingering you again. Your overstimed clit made you whimper, but it soon turned into praise for Javi as he brought you to your second orgasm, making your roll your hips and your legs shake as it hit you again. Harder than before, your eyes rolling back as he never lost his grip on you. Two orgasms in a short time, yet you still needed him inside you. Your vision cleared up when he pulled up from your thighs and you saw your slick lining his lips. He licked it up before kissing you, your hands trailing down to help him out of his pants.

“I need you. I really fucking need you.” You whispered against his lips. Your fingers fumbled with his button, but you got it unhooked, one hand holding himself up as he tried to get them off with your help. He stood up a bit to fully get those and his boxers off before climbing back on top of you. Your hands found their way to his dick after you spat in your hand, and you stroked him slowly, feeling the veins you wanted to feel against your walls. He sucked in a deep breath as you stroked from tip to base, kissing his jaw and neck. It was a little hard to wrap your hand around his dick, given his above-average girth, but it was something you would enjoy as he got deep inside you. His tip was curved as well, giving you an idea. You swiped your thumb over the tip, and the coating of pre-cum made your mouth water as you wanted to taste him, let him cum down your throat, and let his moans fill the room. Your fantasy made you focus on the tip, going faster and your thumb circling around the tip as he let out a gasp.

“Fuck, baby. J-Just like that.” He rasped out, letting his head fall and bite your neck. You kept pace, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. He was unraveling for you as you did for him, and perhaps you would make him cum from a handjob alone before he could thrust deep inside you to give you what you both desired. But he moved your hand away and moved up, to which you looked down and saw how painfully hard he was.

“If you keep going like that I’ll cum on your stomach.” He admitted, and the vision of him spilling on your stomach was making you burn red hot.

“Well, now I know what to do in the future.” You smiled, and he kissed you again, reaching for his condom. You watched him put it on, rolling it down and seeing the way it fit him, stretching for him as you were going to do for him. With it on, he slotted himself between your legs, letting the tip rub on your lips. It made you roll your hips so the tip could slip between your folds, knowing that your clit was overstimulated to the point where every touch would make you jolt. His tip brushed against your clit, and you moaned into his mouth while your kiss got very messy, very fast. Needing to hear your moans again, he matched your rocking to keep brushing against your sensitive clit, the sensation almost too much for you.

“You’re so wet, hermosa. Did I do this to you?” He asked, pulling back where you could see the smirk lining his lips and for him to see your reaction.

“Y-you did. Fuck, please don’t stop.” You stammered out, the ability to speak fading further away.

“I need to feel you baby. I need to feel you cum on my dick.” He took his hand and swiped up in your slit, gathering your slick on his fingers and stroking himself with it, making sure he could slide in without a hitch. He stroked himself while looking at you, and to see how badly he wanted you was still unbelievable. He noticed your nervousness and stopped, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Hey, there’s nothing to be nervous about. If you want me to stop, I will.” He reassured you, still giving you an out knowing that this was a lot to take in.

“It’s not that. I really want this but Javi…your gaze, it’s intimidating.” You admitted.

“Baby, I’ve enjoyed looking at you before this happened and now. I don’t mean to intimidate you, but remember, it’s just me. Nothing’s really changed, okay?” It was partly a lie to say nothing changed when you were just given two mind-blowing orgasms, but Javi knew how to make your heart melt even when it was racing out of your chest.

“I know. But…he never looked at me like that.” His face changed when he said it, wanting to give you everything you deserved as you deserved to feel desired, wanted, and beautiful.

“If he doesn't wanna make you feel pretty, I'll show you how fucking pretty you are.” His tip was still near your hole, making it easier for him to slide in, causing you to gasp and clench around it. Your hands moved up on his body, hooking onto his back. He felt perfect inside you, filling and stretching you out more than you could imagine.

“You feel so good, baby.” He moaned out as he finished filling you up, inch by inch. Still comfortable inside you, yet the stretch was something you would never get enough of. He let you adjust, kissing your forehead again to give you time.

“You feel so much better. Please move,” Javi moved right away, slowly pulling out and pushing in while you pulsed around him each time. You wrapped your legs around him and scratched his back, making him moan. You wanted to leave marks on his back as he wanted to leave love bites on you.

“That’s it, baby. Scratch my back and leave marks on me,” He sped up, letting the sounds of how wet you were for him fill the room. You scratched his upper back a little more, making him fuck you harder. His curved tip brushed closer to your spot, and when he decided to thrust up into you, you were pleasantly overstimulated.

“I told you I was going to get more sounds out of you.” You rolled your eyes as he laughed, but you were rolling your eyes back when he continued to fuck you. Yet, he was not rough with you. He moved his hand to go underneath your neck and bring you closer to him, the other holding him up so he would not have too much of his weight on you. Javi made sure that you were enjoying yourself, his tenderness evident. Patience, tenderness, and love were evident, especially when you looked at him and saw how he looked at you with adoration, lust, and love. You were aglow in his gaze, not intimidating once you got used to it, and you never wanted to leave.

But those three words were lodged in your throat, threatening to come out despite your efforts to suppress them. The nerves were rising, but you blurted it out faster than you could’ve covered it up. “I love you,Javi.”

“I love you too. Always have, always will.” Javi didn’t break eye contact as he said it, and you could see he was serious. He leaned down to kiss you again, pouring all his love into it. It felt different at this juncture, but you were willing to continue down this path with him for as long as you could.

But what you couldn’t hold on to was your composure once it started to build in your lower stomach, the tension increasing with each thrust and your previous orgasms playing into it. Javi could feel you tighten around him more, which made him leave your lips again so he could watch you cum. He moved his hand away from your neck and between you both, slipping his fingers right to your clit and rubbing small circles to inch you closer to your release.

“You’re doing so good baby. I’m so proud of you.” He praised, and your whine in return made his tip twitch. You kept pulsing, legs tightening around him, letting him know you were close. “Cum for me baby, please. Make a mess for me.”

You scratched his back hard, cumming all over just as he asked you to do. It was intense, your legs feeling like jelly and goosebumps rising by the second. And to see the way you threw your head back in ecstasy ignited something in him. He had to fuck you through it, had to make you feel everything all at once because your pleasure was all he cared about. But alas, you came down, completely spent after all he did. But if he asked for another, you would do it all over again, loving the way he would watch you cum for him with absolute attentiveness.

Thankfully, Javi moved his hand away from your sensitive clit to hold himself up, knowing his climax was near. You could feel him lose control, seeing how he bit his lip and how he wanted to savor each moment with how good it felt to feel your pulse around him. He was in a state of ecstasy as well, and he never wanted to leave it.

“F-fuck, I’m getting close.” He thrusted faster, desperation taking over to cum deep inside you.

“Please cum for me Javi. Soy todo tuyo.” Those last three words pushed him closer to the edge.

“Mi mente, cuerpo, y alma es tuyo.” Javi barely got it out before he came, grunting as he spilled inside the condom when he would much rather spill inside you. His thrusts were rough, needing to have every inch deep inside you. You pulsed around him to overstimulate him, to which he was not surprised when another drop of cum shot out in response to your actions.

You could tell he was tired, so you held him close, allowing him to rest a little on top of you so he could catch his breath. Your hands went up to his hair, playing in it as he rubbed his thumb back and forth on your hip. Skin-to-skin, completely bare, but not just in the physical sense. It was in every sense as you had previously shed all your layers with him, letting him see the deepest parts of you as he did with you. This was simply the final layer, but it was the most fitting after developing everything else with him over the years.

"If you keep playing in my hair like that I'll fall asleep on you." He mumbled, eliciting a laugh out of you. You both stayed in that position briefly, the closeness comforting you and reminding you that this was not a dream.

Sadly, he did get up to pull out of you, throw the condom out, and get some towels to clean you both up. He wiped you down first, removing any sweat and cleaning up the wetness between your thighs. Once he wiped himself down and put them in the bin, he got right back into bed with you and pulled you close, allowing you to rest your head on his chest.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, a hand rubbing your back.

“I’m feeling pretty good. How are you feeling?”

“Amazing,” He admitted, making you laugh. “But are you okay with everything that happened?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have done any of that if I didn’t feel right about it. But are you okay with what we did?” You craned your neck up to look at him.

“I am, but I just want to be sure. You know I love you.” To hear him say it with a different meaning brought a smile to your face.

“I love you, Javi.” Your tiredness was hitting you hard, your voice much softer than before. You moved your head back down to lay on his chest comfortably.

“And I love you, mi flor. I’ll take you out this weekend.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” You asked as he drew circles on your back.

“Yes I am.”

“Then ask me properly.” He moved back so he could face you properly.

“Will you go out on a date with me this weekend?” He asked, and you loved the fact that he asked you properly.

“Yes I will, but we don’t have to go out this weekend since I know you have work. We can always go the following weekend.” You didn’t want to strain him, but he didn’t have it.

“I’m taking you out because I want to. You deserve to be shown off and treated right, so I’m taking you out this weekend.” You admired his insistence, even though there was stubbornness laced in.

“You’re so bossy all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“It’s not bossy if you like it.” He shot back, and you would never admit that he was right.

“Maybe I do.” You tried to play it off, but there was no use.

“Just maybe? Because just a little earlier you liked it when I-“ You shushed him with a kiss.

You pulled back and rested your head back on his chest. “Don’t finish that. Just go to sleep.”

“I will, but I find it funny that this was a complete change from our usual breakup routine.” The realization hit you since this was a complete change.

“Yeah it is. But I think I like this one more.”

“Well there won’t be another routine after this.” Oh, he was certain of it.

“And you’re so sure of that?” You challenged, but he didn’t back down.

“Positive.” Without saying it, you knew that he was not planning on going anywhere, and neither were you.

“Of course you are. But goodnight, Javi. I love you.” As you closed your eyes, you slurred your words, but you knew you were safe.

“I love you more. Goodnight.”

Translations:

Escuchame - Listen to me

Mirame - Look at me

Pero dime - But tell me

Bonita - Pretty

Mas hermosa - Most beautiful

¡Ahí tienes! no sabíamos dónde ustedes los dos - There you are! we didn't know where you two were.

Nuestros bebés - Our babies

Mija, necesito que sonrias - My daughter (this is the direct translation but can also mean darling) I need you to smile.

Digame. Te prometo que puedo tomar lo que me digas - Tell me. I promise I can take what you tell me.

Tardé una hora en conocerte y solo un día en enamorarme. Pero me llevará toda una vida lograr olvidarte. - It took me an hour to meet you and only one day to fall in love. But it will take me a lifetime to forget you.

¿Cuando? - When?

Déjame cuidarte. Te daré todo lo que te mereces - Let me take care of you. I'll give you everything you deserve.

Cariño - From my understanding, it can mean a lot of things, but it is mostly a term of affection, like cute or sweetheart.

Pero, amo todo de tí - But I love everything about you

Amo tu frente, ojos, nariz, mejillas, labios, mandíbula, cuello, senos, estómago, caderas, muslos, pantorrillas, tobillos, pies. Y lo que aún no he explorado sé que me encantará es tu culo, y tu coño. - I love your forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, lips, jaw, neck, breasts, stomach, hips, thighs, calves, ankles, feet. And what I haven't explored yet I know I'll love is your ass, and your pussy.

Hermosa - Gorgeous

Soy todo tuyo - I am all yours

Mi mente, cuerpo, y alma es tuyo - My mind, body and soul are yours

Mi flor - My flower

#lanawrites #pedropascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #javier pena fanfiction #javi pena #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena fic #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #javier pena x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña fluff #javier pena x reader #friends to lovers

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zepskies · 2 years

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 10

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

AN: Bear in mind, season 2 aired/took place circa 2006, so references like iPods are going to be dated lol.

Word Count: 5,500 Warnings: M-rated chapter ahead—18+ only! Angst, smut, fluff, and feels. Oh yeah, and kidnapping.

Part 10: Worthy

In the months after John Winchester’s death, Sam and Dean spent even more time on the road than before. Hunting down the demon, as well as trying to find the Colt.

You helped them the best you could with research on their various cases. However, now that you had been promoted to Library Curator at the museum, you had even more access to scholarly research and ancient texts, but even less time on your hands.

If you were honest (and you weren’t), it was getting harder to balance your real job and Sam and Dean’s requests. But you knew if you said so, Dean would never ask you for help again. At the end of the day, it kept you connected to them. And you liked helping out.

The next time the brothers came home marked a few months shy of two years since you’d met Dean. When they were a day’s drive away, he called you to ask you something he’d never asked before…

He wanted to take you out to dinner.

You had cooked for him before. He had cooked for you. You two had ordered in and gone to grab dinner with Sam in tow. But in almost two years, you and Dean had never gone on an actual dinner date, getting dressed up, just the two of you.

Needless to say, you were very excited…but you also had no idea what to wear.

Dean had seen you in the professional blouses, slacks, and skirts you wore for work. He’d seen you in ratty old college shirts and yoga pants while slurping ramen noodles from a plastic cup. He’d also seen you in nothing but one of his old buttoned-down shirts, and then, in nothing at all.

But he’d never seen you dressed to kill. That wasn’t to say you couldn’t pull it off, because you most certainly could. It had just…been a while.

So you dove into the shadowy recesses of your closet and searched for something you knew he hadn’t seen before. And you might’ve gone to the mall and bought a couple new pieces of lingerie, just in case the night went really well.

You were grateful Dean gave you a full day’s notice. It gave you the time to mentally prepare, but you still had to call him again to verify a few things.

“Okay, but where are we going?” you asked. “Casual dressy or dressy, dressy?”

Dean chuckled. “I have no idea what that means.”

He sounded tired to you, but the playful note in his voice still made you smile.

“It means just tell me where we’re going,” you said with a laugh.

“Nope,” he refused. “But here’s what I can do for you. I’ll be leaving the leather jacket at home this time.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Okay. That’s something, at least. Man, you really are the worst with these little guessing games.”

“I think you mean the best,” he joked. “Remember, I’ll be there by seven tomorrow.”

You let out an annoyed huff. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He was still laughing when you hung up on him. You now had a plan though.

The next day was a Friday. You were able to get off work right at five, but that still only gave you two hours to shower and fix yourself up. Not nearly enough time, you lamented, but you made it work.

Your dad, blessedly, was working late again. So you had the house to yourself as you played your music loudly and danced to the beat while you finished up your makeup.

Then around seven, a knock sounded at the front door. Wow, he’s actually on time.

You swallowed a small swell of nerves in your throat. Stop being silly, you told yourself. And you were careful in your heels on your way down the stairs. You checked yourself real quick in the mirror, just to make sure your hair and everything else was in place. Then you looked into the door’s peephole.

With a smile, you unlocked and opened the door. Dean was there to greet you with a familiar grin, and then his eyes went wide at the sight of you. You crossed your arms and leaned on the door frame.

“We’re all stocked up on Girl Scout cookies, thanks,” you teased. Dean’s grin kicked up into a smirk.

“I’m not here to sell you anything, sweetheart,” he said. His hot gaze took you in—from your softly curled hair to your dark red lipstick, to the black suede dress that clung to your every curve and fell to mid-thigh, and finally down to your scarlet red heels. Then his eyes traveled all the way back up to yours.

“But I’ll bet you could get me to sell my soul with just those heels,” he said.

Your brain stuttered to a halt. You couldn’t help but blush at the flirtatious depths in his voice, overlayed with a fine layer of charm. It didn’t take much for Dean to turn it on, but when he did, you could guess how many panty-dropping one liners he’d had in his arsenal before he met you.

And he’d cleaned up nicely himself. True to his word, he’d forgone his typical leather jacket (though you were fond of it) for a solid black jacket. He’d paired it with a charcoal gray button-down and some dark wash jeans. (You suspected that Sam had given some pointers for this ensemble.)

His familiar pendant still hung from his neck though, along with his mom’s ring on his right hand. He was still Dean, but he looked good enough to eat.

His smirk deepened, and you realized he’d likely heard that thought.

Damn it.

You hadn’t seen him in a long time, so you forgot you’d have to pull your thoughts back from the soul bond sometimes. Right now though, it was all you could do to stop from dragging him into the house and kissing him senseless.

Dean shook you out of your thoughts when his hands found the curve of your waist. You looked up at him, holding onto the edges of his jacket.

“Sam’s not joining us for dinner?” you asked innocently, while knowing full well he wasn’t. Dean leaned down to brush his lips against your cheek, down to your neck where he caught the pleasant, sexy scent of your perfume. He felt you shudder a bit at the sensation of his lips across your skin.

“Nope. It’s adults only tonight,” he said. Pressed against him as you were, you felt the reverberation of his voice in your chest. It was a very pleasant sensation that pooled warmth in your lower belly, and down between your legs.

Dean came back to your lips, letting his ghost over yours. He didn’t want to ruin that pretty red lipstick (but he also really, really did).

You played into it; your smile brushed against his lips while your fingers dragged down his chest. “Then, maybe you should take me…”

You shifted on your feet, letting your thigh graze between his legs. You felt his fingers dig into the small of your back, and you reached back to grab his hand and unwrap his arms from your body.

“…To this mystery restaurant,” you said. “‘Cause I’m really freakin’ hungry.”

You flashed him a smile and slipped between him and the front door. You tossed him your house keys so he could lock it. As you walked down the driveway toward the Impala, you felt his disbelief, a lance of annoyance, but also his amusement. And a hot flare of desire while he watched you walk away from him.

You crossed your arms again and leaned against the passenger door of the Impala while you waited for Dean. He locked the front door and returned to the Impala while pointing a finger at you.

“You play too much,” he said. Your smile deepened.

As it turned out, he didn’t take you to the most expensive restaurant in town, or just to the local diner either. It was a nice Columbian steakhouse that ended up being the perfect place for both of you: a cozy atmosphere with Latin music, a historically Columbian-owned restaurant, and an interesting culture of food for you to enjoy—and a series of revolving smoked meats for Dean.

You noticed though, that while your boyfriend was enthusiastic about the food, he still seemed off somehow. His smiles didn’t always meet his eyes, and while he looked great, he also looked tired. He didn’t have 100% of his usual swagger going on, and that was enough cause for concern. From what Sam had told you, Dean had been doing better in working through their father’s death.

“Dean.” You laid a hand on his knee while he put yet another cheese bun into his mouth. You earned his attention regardless. “You okay? You seem…I don’t know. Tired.”

He shook his head and thankfully answered after he swallowed. “Nah, just a long drive. What, you’re not having fun?”

You smiled. “No, I am. I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

Dean smiled back. “I’m good, baby.”

But you could tell he was hiding something—from the bond, and from you. You frowned at him.

“Dean, we’ve been over this,” you said in a quiet, but firm voice. “You don’t have to lie to me. Whatever it is, I can handle it. You can trust me.”

After a moment, Dean’s pleasant expression faded. A more genuine, rueful smile overtook his features. He took your hand from his knee and pressed it to his lips. He looked down for a few seconds, just thinking, and you gave him the time he needed to do it.

He appreciated that about you. Though you were a curious person by nature, and stubborn about it, in moments like this you never rushed him. You gave him room to breathe.

“Do you know what a djinn is?” he asked.

You blinked at him in curiosity. That wasn’t at all what you’d expected him to say.

“Yeah. I mean, djinn, genies—they’re all over Middle Eastern mythology,” you said, and with a more teasing smile, “And not just in Aladdin.”

Dean inclined his head. “Very good, Professor.”

“I’m guessing they’re real too?” you asked.

“Yeah, nasty sombitches,” he confirmed. He explained that with just one touch, a djinn could propel you into a fantasy of your own making. A dream world, where you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of—at the price of getting your blood sucked dry in the real world.

You grimaced. “Ech. Sounds like a party.”

“Yeah, it’s freakin’ Disneyland,” Dean quipped.

“I’m assuming you and Sam ran into a djinn?” you said.

Dean nodded. His gaze fell away from you as his thoughts drifted back to that world. That place where his family was more or less whole. Where his mom was still alive, and his family had never been sucked into hunting. Where Dean had met you while on a road trip with his dad and married you a year later. Where his little brother had become a lawyer and Dean a firefighter.

His father had died too soon in that world too, but it hadn’t been a gruesome, lonely death caused by a demon. The only real obstacle in that perfect world had been that he’d drifted away from his little brother. They didn’t have a great relationship in that world, but it wasn’t anything that they couldn’t overcome with a few beers and a couple of heart-to-hearts in the Impala.

But it hadn’t been real.

Dean explained all of this to you over dessert, and you listened with rapt attention. You felt all the emotions he couldn’t readily express.

“I saw what my life could’ve been like,” he admitted. “And I wanted it, more than anything.”

“But this is what’s real, and you chose it,” you said. “That’s what matters.”

Dean didn’t look convinced. You were grateful that he shared this with you, but you could also tell that this had been plaguing his mind. You also didn’t want him to have to wallow in it anymore. What you wanted was to help perk him up, or distract him somehow…

So when he dipped his spoon into the large chocolate brownie in front of him, you parried his spoon with yours and stole his scoop. He looked up at you with raised, incredulous brows.

“What just happened here?” he asked.

You shrugged, smiling as you licked your spoon clean. Dean’s lips pressed together, but in the name of keeping the night pleasant, he decided to let it go.

Once again, he delved into the brownie. And once again, you took his piece with your own spoon, even taking a bit of vanilla ice cream with it.

“This is really good,” you said, humming in delight. “You should try some.”

Dean quirked his head at you. He didn’t know whether to be irritated or amused.

“I’m tryin’,” he wryly replied. With a purposeful hand, he wielded his spoon and took a nice corner piece. Sure enough, your spoon came in to intercept him. But his left hand closed around your wrist. His gaze flicked up to yours.

“You’re playin’ with fire here, sweetheart,” he warned. You went for your glass of wine with your free hand and took a sip.

“Am I?” you asked. “I thought we agreed to share.”

He leaned in close, until there were mere inches between your faces. “I don’t share food.”

You took his challenge for what it was, and you leaned in until your lips were nearly brushing his.

“Fine,” you said. Then you sat back and sipped at your wine again. You seemed to have no further interest in dessert, so Dean nodded to himself and raised the corner piece of brownie to his lips.

Only to have you snatch his spoon from his hand and take the bite yourself. You washed it down with some water this time. While Dean sat back in shock, you offered him a smile.

“This’s a great place. We should definitely come back here,” you said.

For a moment, all Dean could do was stare at his damn-near empty plate. When he gathered himself, he looked over at you and smiled dangerously.

“Yeah, we should,” he agreed.

You finished your wine while Dean paid for the meal. He wouldn’t accept your money even though you offered to pay half. He asked you out, so he should pay, he reasoned. (He also ordered an extra brownie to-go.)

Anticipation ran down your spine the longer it took to get back to the car. You could feel his silent simmer, but also his patience. You knew he wasn’t going to let you get away with teasing him, but you also knew he was waiting for the right moment. Most likely when you two had some real privacy.

But before you could open the passenger side door of the Impala, Dean’s hand stopped you. You let him maneuver you around and press you against the door, and you held onto his jacket for balance. You grinned when he bent down and claimed your lips with his own, demanding, sensuous, and greedy.

You clung to his arms as he basically devoured you in the restaurant’s parking lot. His hands were hot on your hips, then kneading your butt, pulling you flush against him as your fingers curled into his hair.

You hadn’t taken Dean for a PDA kind of guy; he was very private about who knew you were together. But then again, it wasn’t too often that you two went out in public, considering this was the first proper date you and Dean had ever been on.

“You’re in so much trouble,” he said against your lips, but the effect was kind of lost when you could feel his amusement and searing desire. You giggled against him.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I can deal with that.”

He pinched your butt, making you yelp and tighten your hand in his hair on reflex. He groaned into your mouth.

“Take me home,” you said. Dean nodded, but he was reluctant to let go of you. Eventually he withdrew his hands and opened the passenger side door for you.

First, you smoothed down his jacket and wiped away some of the lipstick from his mouth and chin with your thumb. His charming, full-watt Dean grin was back, and it warmed you up from the inside out.

That night, in your bed, you and Dean made up for months of separation. You were starved for his touch, and Dean realized that with no small measure of guilt.

He tried to focus on being here with you, but in the back of his mind, he still felt like he was somehow taking something from you when he made love to you. Like that hit and run you once accused him of.

This is what Dad warned me about, he couldn’t help but think.

You both laid on your bed together afterwards, dewy with sweat and a hand on your chest to calm your racing heart. But as great as it had been for you, you knew that Dean was distracted again.

The moment you heard him think about his father, it brought you back to that day in the hospital.

“I’m sorry I told you not to go after her a few years ago,” John had said.

But why? You sat up against the headboard, bringing the sheets up to cover yourself. Meanwhile, Dean was coming back from freshening up in the bathroom. He then started tinkering with your iPod and speaker on your nightstand. But he frowned while scrolling through most of the songs.

Ugh. Avril Lavigne. Really? You heard him think to himself. A smile threatened to curve your lips as he continued to grumble at your playlist. But eventually he settled on “Going to California” by Led Zeppelin. That was neutral ground you could both agree on.

“Dean,” you found yourself saying, before you could think about it. He joined you back in bed, sitting beside you.

“When I was fourteen, I remember it snowed the day of my mom’s funeral,” you continued. “I was standing there in the cemetery when it started. I was…well, a wreck. I looked up at the flurries, and I heard something.”

It’s not fair!

“I didn’t realize it then, but I think I was hearing you for the first time.” You looked over at Dean, and he met your gaze.

“Sam and I were carted off to Bobby’s a few times when we were kids,” he admitted. “It’s possible.”

You gathered your courage, and you asked the question you had been holding onto for almost a year.

“Did you ever…hear me? Before last year.”

Dean sensed that this was a leading question. You already knew something, or at least thought you did. He sighed.

You sat up straighter and faced him.

“Talk to me,” you implored. Dean hesitated, but after a moment, he answered.

“It was around seven…eight years ago now. I was working a case with my dad near your school. That university.”

You thought back, and it must’ve been when you were getting your bachelor’s degree. Dean explained that he was about twenty-three, making you twenty at the time. And he started to feel you, hear you. It freaked him the hell out.

“A killer dog nearly took my head off because…anyway, the point is, I figured out what it was,” he said.

“But you left,” you said, both hurt and angry. “Why the hell didn’t you reach out to me?”

“My dad told me something,” Dean said. “He said I shouldn’t bring you into my life if I couldn’t hang up my gun. You know what…he was right.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “How can you say that?”

“Look at what’s happening,” he said. “I’m on the road with Sam tryin’ to hunt this demon, pulling you away from your job with research, dragging you out in the middle of the night because I’m on death’s door. It’s enough!”

You didn’t like the sharpness in his tone, or the stubborn look in his eyes. That was another thing you’d learned about Dean. When he got an idea of something in his head, a conviction, he wasn’t going to let it go in a hurry.

Too frustrated to remain in bed, Dean got up and started dressing. You watched him put on his underwear and jeans in disbelief. But you stole his gray dress shirt before he could put it on. He wasn’t about to leave you like this.

So you put on the shirt yourself and stood in his way.

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” he told you.

“Who says?” you challenged. “We’re doing what works for us.”

“That’s my point. It’s not working. And it’s not fair to you.”

“When have I ever asked for fair?” You wanted to know. You had never complained, never asked anything of him except for two things: to keep in touch with you, and not to lie to you.

“This WiFi connection goes both ways, remember?” he countered. “You can try hiding it all you want, but you hate this long-distance crap. Pretty soon you’re gonna start hating me…and shit. I wouldn’t blame you.”

You didn’t know what to make of that resigned look on his face, but it struck at your heart.

You hefted a sharp sigh. “Didn’t you say that this was just temporary? That after you and Sam killed the Yellow Eyed demon, then you could come home?”

“It took Dad our whole lives just to track Yellow Eyes down,” Dean said. “Then it killed him.”

So he was saying this could take his whole life too. Part of you knew that, but you didn’t want to accept the reality that you could be living half a life with him forever.

You didn’t realize it then, but Dean took your silence as a sign.

“Look, I get it,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not like we can just…cut the cord here. But I’d understand if you don’t want to keep doing this.”

For a moment, you stared at him uncomprehendingly. But if he’d just taken half a second to look at your face—to read the truth in your roiling emotions, he wouldn’t have kept running his mouth.

“Truth is, you deserve better than what I got to give,” he said. His hand raised to card through his hair, an anxious gesture. You knew in the way his eyes shifted away.

A tremor of disbelief and dismay coursed through you.

What he had to give.

A man who'd first offered his protection while barely even knowing you. Who comforted you when you needed him, and celebrated your achievements instead of belittling them. Who believed in you when you told him about working yourself up at the museum. Who empowered you to hold your ground, and speak up for yourself.

A man who'd rather be alone than keep hurting you.

“Baby,” you tried, grasping his arm. Still, he didn’t quite meet your gaze.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said.

You pushed him back with both hands on his bare chest when he tried to get around you. “Stop!”

He said your name in a sharp warning. You shook your head stubbornly.

“Do you want me out of your life?” you asked. “Is that really what you want?”

Dean finally looked down at you, his mouth pressed in a firm line, his brows crunched over his eyes…but he couldn’t answer you.

“Then stop it!” you said. “Just fucking stop it. I’m tired of hearing you think that you’re not good enough.”

Dean’s expression slackened.

“Stop lying to yourself,” you said sternly. “I don’t care what you think I want. Whatever ‘together’ means for us is what we’re going to do. Because you are worth it.”

That was your conviction. He'd been fighting for his family his entire life. And now for you, in a way. So the least you could do was fight for him.

“Yeah, it’s really fucking hard right now. On both of us,” you said with a nod. “But if you think I’m going to let go just because of that, then you don’t know me at all yet, Dean.”

Your frown solidified into a look of determination.

“But goddamn it, you’re gonna learn.”

His mouth fell open a bit, and his soft surprise gave way to shock when you rocked forward, taking his face between your hands. He accepted your hard kiss, the uncharacteristic way you demanded from him, claimed his lips and his tongue, and the frustrated pace of removing each other’s clothes again.

For once, you took control and pushed Dean down to the bed. He let you do it too. It was an electrifying turn on—to have your hands be firm instead of gentle, but still purposeful in how you touched him.

And you did. You straddled his lap, and between fierce kisses, you mapped out his body with your hands. He held you by your hips, but you soon pushed him down onto the bed. With wet, nipping kisses, you burned a path from his neck, down his chest and sternum, down the defined “V” between his hips.

His breathing deepened the further you went, because Christ had it been a long time since anyone but himself had touched him. He supposed you weren’t the only one starving.

Your lips grazed and nipped the inside of his thigh, getting ever closer to where you knew he wanted you. His hand raised to tangle in your hair, but you moved his hand away and trapped it onto the bed. Your challenging gaze met his, and Dean raised his brows.

No touching, unless I say so, you said through the bond. A smirk raised the corner of his lips.

Yes, ma’am, he replied, making you smile. You then renewed your attention to the task at hand. You settled between his legs lowered down, where the object of your focus was standing perfectly at attention. You let your lips graze his dick. Careful touches, and really, a bit teasing. Dean sucked in a breath when your hands joined your lips, just soft caresses along its length, underneath, over its sensitive head. It was both exactly what he wanted and nowhere near enough.

His hand fisted into the pillow behind his head and the comforter underneath him. Your name fell from his lips—both a prayer and a plea. He felt the shape of your smile in a kiss, pressed against his thigh.

I’ve got you, baby, you said. Finally, your lips descended on him and you took as much of his dick as you could into your mouth. Something between a moan and a grunt fell from Dean’s lips as you worked him over, with your hands joining your warm, wet mouth. He itched to touch you, but you were relentless and held his wrist down onto the bed.

With his free hand, he grabbed onto the headboard as his back arched involuntarily, but there was nowhere to go. You had him trapped, and he was exactly where he wanted to be.

But just when he felt that crest of pleasure nearing and thought he was going to see black on the edges of his vision, you let him go with a soft pop. You leaned your arms on his raised knees and wiped your mouth. You looked down at his incredulous face with a mischievous little smile.

Dean made a sound of both shock and frustration as he tried to catch his breath. His head hit the pillow while his hand went to his wildly beating heart.

“Well, that’s just rude,” he uttered. When he was able to speak, that is. You stifled a laugh and moved up to cover that hand on his chest with yours. He flinched, but you were able to offer apologetic kisses. He reluctantly accepted them.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you whispered against his lips. You took his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of his palm, then brought it to your cheek. Despite the playful, annoyed suspicion in his eyes, he stroked your cheek with affection. He saw your game, and he begrudgingly admired it—and you.

Smiling, you sat back on his bare thighs and brought both of his hands to your body, grazing down your neck to cup your breasts. You sighed as his thumbs brushed over your pert nipples and kneaded the soft flesh.

“Is this for me, or for you?” he teased. You shot him a playful glare. For that, you lowered his hands further down your body and guided his hand to the very wet folds between your legs.

“I’m letting you touch me now,” was your cheeky reply.

Dean smirked, but he sat up and obliged, gathering your wetness with his fingers and stroking your clit with deliberate movements. You shuddered a breath as he slipped a long finger inside you, followed closely by another. All the while, his thumb drew wet circles around your sensitive clit and brought you to the edge of your release.

From that very first night together so long ago, he’d been learning how to play you like a five-string guitar. Tonight was no different, and despite how you’d edged him earlier, he had no qualms about making you come all over his hand.

Your fingers delved into his hair, and you mentally praised him while you caught your breath, resting your forehead on his shoulder. He held you to him as you shook. But after a few moments, he leaned back to look into your eyes.

Through your connection, you felt his playfulness grow and you just knew he was about to say something smartass. But right now, you were still in control. So you stopped his smart mouth with yours and claimed his lips with another deep kiss.

You slipped a hand between your bodies, and this time you took a firmer hold of his dick. It was still a bit wet from your earlier treatment, and you stroked him a few times. His grateful moans sounded in your ear as he gripped your arms tight. You closed your eyes for a second, inwardly preparing yourself, before you sheathed him inside you. You both breathed hard as you adjusted and settled on top of him.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair. “Fuck, baby—”

You nodded, soothing down his back. “I know. Damn, you feel so good.”

You pushed him back down again so you could find the right angle that would serve both of you. Then you started to move over him. Dean dropped his head hard against the bed. To help him out, you gave him something to grab onto and guided his hand to your hip. He squeezed the flesh there, hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises later, you were sure. But the brief pain was a good motivator—it let you know when he was close to his breaking point.

You reached down with your fingers to further part your folds and rub hot circles around your already sensitive clit again. You felt a flutter in your lower belly as that familiar, inexplicable thread of energy within you stuttered; the part of your soul that recognized its equal, its match. The bond hummed and grew hot and pulsing.

Finally, its warmth washed over you.

You gasped and grabbed ahold of Dean’s arms as you almost got lightheaded at the feeling. Dean was going through the same tumble of sensations as he uttered a strangled sound, spilling inside you.

But he had good reflexes; he steadied you, with his arms wrapping around your frame and holding you to him. He eased you over back onto the bed, and then slid out of you.

For a little while, neither of you spoke. The frenzy of your earlier argument had fueled what just happened, but now that tension had dissolved into a hard-won peace.

When he was able to move, Dean reached out to hold the side of your face. He tucked a loose, sweaty strand of hair behind your ear. Your smile for him was soft. You sensed he was thinking, searching for what he wanted to say. So again, you waited, slipping a discarded blanket over your naked body.

“Okay, I think I hear you,” Dean said. “I love you, you know that?”

Your smile grew. He’d repeated the words you confessed to him when he was in the hospital all those months ago. And it was the first time he’d said what he felt for you.

You held a hand by your ear. “What was that?”

Dean’s lips raised into a smirk, but his eyes were soft. He slid an arm underneath you to pull you against his side.

“I love you,” he said, “so damn much.”

“I love you too,” you replied, but not without some exasperation. All this craziness, just to finally get on the same page. You grabbed his face with one hand and squeezed his cheeks. “That's my point.”

You made a sound of frustration before you released him. Dean laughed a bit, closing his eyes. You enjoyed his more carefree smile as you rested against his chest.

This man, you thought, is damn lucky he’s adorable.

He cut into your thoughts dryly, Pretty sure that’s my line, sweetheart.

You rolled your eyes.

At least we made it through our first real fight, you said. In spectacular fashion, I might add.

Yeah, but you played dirty, said Dean.

You just smiled.

The next morning, you and Dean woke up after your dad had presumably left for work. You were grateful. It spared you from the awkwardness of a “morning after” in your father’s presence.

I really need to get my own place.

So you made coffee while Dean made some toast and eggs for breakfast. But he got a call just as he was plating the eggs.

“Yeah, Bobby,” he answered. The more your uncle spoke, the more serious Dean’s expression got. You sensed a flare of his panic and you turned to him in concern. The plate in his hand hit the table with a clatter.

“Where?” Dean said. His tone was sharp and worried. “I’m comin’ now.”

Dean ended the call and abandoned the food to grab his jacket. He explained before you could ask the predictable question.

“Sam went missing this morning on a coffee run,” Dean said. “When Bobby got to the diner to check on him, the whole place had been cleared out, except for the bodies of the brunch crowd.”

You gasped and raised a hand to your mouth in shock. “What happened to Sam?”

Dean’s face became grim and angry as he grabbed his wallet and keys.

“Bobby found sulfur all over the place. He thinks Yellow Eyes took him,” he said. “…I’ve gotta go.”

It was late fall, so you grabbed a coat from the rack and your purse. “I’m going with you.”

Dean halted at the doorway, and that stopped you short behind him. He turned around and gave you a firm look.

“No you’re not, damn it!” he said. “You’re staying here.”

“Are you kidding me?” you said. “The last time you faced this thing, it almost killed you!”

“You’ve got a job, remember?” he pointed out. You shook your head.

“It’s Saturday. I don’t have to be back to work until Monday, upon which I’ll take a couple of sick days if I need to.” Your words were both a warning and a promise. “Just let me help you find Sam. I’m handy with research. You know I can help!”

Dean didn’t like it. He had half a mind to keep arguing with you, but he really didn’t have time for this. He made a sound of aggravation and rubbed a hand over his face.

He then levied a finger at you. “You’re staying in the car. When we get there, you don’t argue with me. You do as I say, got it?”

You nodded. Normally you would take issue with being ordered by your boyfriend, but in the world of dark and evil things, you would follow Dean’s lead.

So you hid a triumphant smile as you locked up your house, then followed him to the Impala.

AN: Whew! Well, then lol. The reader finally gave Dean a piece of her mind (among other things). How'd you like their first date? 😉

Dean definitely gives me Joey vibes from Friends when it comes to sharing food. 😂

But as the chapter title implies, we also dug in a bit on how Dean sees himself vs. how his soulmate sees him.

So a lot of drama this time, but ending on another good ol' cliffhanger. AKA: Where the hell is Sam?

Next up, some action! Heading into 2.21: All Hell Breaks Loose (Pt. 1).

To keep reading: PART 11

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#What is and what should never be #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #spn season 2 #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x female reader #spn #spn fanfic #soulmate au #sam winchester #bobby singer #john winchester #2.20 #zepskies writes

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eating-plastic · 1 year

Text

Carnival Lights: Henry Barrow x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder (come on, it's Henry), swearing, some mean!Henry, naive!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!Henry (my favorite dynamic lol), some fluff, probably grammatical errors

Word Count: 3434 words

A/N: This is for that anon that asked me if I wrote for Henry Barrow (assuming that they wanted me to write something for him lol). I know I said I was going to take a break from Killer Frequency, but the “people pleaser” in me wanted to get something done. So yeah, I hope this isn't too disappointing. I also hope that my interpretation of Henry is to your liking (you gotta get creative when given a blank slate like him 😆). As such, I also hope anyone else that is a fan of this skrunkly also enjoys this as well. Oh, also, this takes place before the events of the game during Marie and Henry's "national murder tour" leading up to Gallows Creek. Just thought you should know that. Bye!

--------------------

Sparkling lights and the sound of upbeat music and screams of excitement flood your senses as you skip through the crowds attending your hometown's yearly carnival. You had always partaken in the festivities ever since you were a child, and the event still filled you with joy. Some of the older booth vendors and ride operators even knew you by name.

You had originally shown up with two of your friends, promising that they wouldn't get too "lovey-dovey" with each other since they were a couple, but that was broken about 15 minutes into your arrival. Feeling like a third-wheel, you broke off from them, not really caring too much. You could easily enjoy yourself here without them.

After you finished playing a game where you had to try and hit cartoon sea creatures with a water gun (and failing since your aim wasn't the best), you decided to head to something you knew you were good at: the funhouse maze.

You knew the maze like the back of your hand, and could easily make it from the entrance to the exit, so you decided to see how many combinations of routes you could go. You wanted to know every nook and cranny that these dark, black light lighten halls had to offer.

Once you got bored, you began to make your way to the exit. Once at a crossroad where you needed to turn right, you stopped when you heard a man let out a shout of frustration. Worried that they were lost, you made your way towards the noise to help them out.

'God fucking damnit,' Henry thought. He was so fucking close to getting the man his mother told him to kill. He was right on his tail and then...he was gone. Now he was lost in this Goddamn maze and it was all his stupid fault because he knew he wasn't good with mazes. It was a good idea in theory, since the man would be all alone with no one would hear him scream. But of course in practice it had to bite him in the ass.

He tore his mask off and shoved it into his large duffle bag at his side. God, was it making it hard to breathe in this stuffy prison. Not to mention how that man was probably long gone by now.

'Augh, what am I gonna tell mom?' worry began to flood his mind. She was no doubt going to be pissed at him.

Luckily for Henry, his unaware savior was approaching.

--------------------

As soon as you rounded the corner, you were now facing a man of decent stature, with long hair, a black trench coat, and a large duffle bag at his side. It was quite odd attire to be wearing in the middle of summer, but maybe he was just a worker at the haunted house who wanted to try out the maze on his break. He also seems to be oblivious to your presence, muttering to himself.

"Hi!" you chirp, causing the man to jump and spin around.

"The hell are you doing, here?" he hisses.

"Uh, it's a maze at a carnival. I'm here having fun," his harsh tone was completely lost on you. "You're lost, right?"

"What do you think?" he snarls, but you just laugh.

"Yep! I thought so! Come on, I'll show you the way out," you grab his hand, noting that he was wearing black leather gloves. Also odd, but once again that could've been just another part of the haunted house attire.

The man rips his hand from your grip as if yours had burnt his. You look back at him confused, but just shrug and begin to run off towards the exit.

"Hey, wait!" the man shouts and begins to chase after you, making sure to be on your tail so he could leave.

Eventually, you and him were able to taste the fresh air of the carnival, with the added smell of fair foods. You turn to look at the man, only to be taken aback a bit.

He looked to be a boy about your age, with piercing eyes but a very handsome face. You also noticed that he was unfamiliar to you.

"Huh, I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" you smile at him, but he just turns to walk back towards the crowded rows of booths. "Hey, wait up!"

You decide to follow him. If he was new, you didn't want him to be overwhelmed or lonely.

"I'm Y/N!" you grin, but he just continues walking forwards. His eyes scanning the crowds and his jaw tight.

"Oh, you don't talk much, huh? That's okay! What do you wanna do? Do you wanna get something to eat? Oh! Or we co-"

"Look, don't you have friends or something that you can go hang out with?" he asks sharply. Unfortunately for Henry, the tone was once again lost on you.

"I do, but they'd rather make out in the tunnel of love than hang out with me," your tone drops slightly which makes Henry's eyebrow quirk up. After a couple of seconds though, just shake your head and smile back at him. "It's okay though, because I met you! I love meeting new people!"

'Jesus, what was your deal?' Henry thought. You were like a Care Bear in human shape. So sickeningly sweet that it was making him feel weird. How could someone like you exist in the cruel world his mom had told him so much about? Has it not broken you, yet?

"Oh, look! Bumper cars! You wanna go do those?" you beam up at him. Henry sighed. If he put up with this, maybe you would leave him alone. Besides, you provided him good cover. A new face like him dressed the way he was all by himself may drive suspicion. So he turned his head to look at your eager face and uttered one word.

"Fine."

--------------------

You weren't bad at bumper cars, but you also didn't win. Not that you cared though, especially since your mystery man had won. You were surprised at his skills and made sure to tell him.

Henry listening to you gush over him was odd. Not used to getting such praise from someone who wasn't his mother. And like with his mother, it made him feel good.

You continue to skip through the crowds with him at your side. He was still scanning all of the people around you, but his jaw wasn't tight anymore. That elated you, as you took it as him finally enjoying himself. You both stop when you hear someone call your name.

"Is that you, Y/N?" the voice of an older man called from a game booth. Your face brightens and you run to him, Henry following after you.

"Frank! I haven't seen you in ages!" you hug him over the booth's countertop. Henry tenses up and watches the man closely.

"You're one to talk! I haven't seen you since you were just 'this' tall," Frank levels his hand to show just how small you were when he had last seen you. He opens his mouth to speak again, but stops when his eyes fall on Henry. "Hey, Y/N, who's your friend?"

"He's new in town! I saved him from the maze!" you chirp.

"Ah, okay," he drawls, looking at Henry suspiciously. Upon seeing you look at him fondly though, he puts on his best "friendly face" and holds his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, son."

Henry looks at Frank's hand before shaking it, still analyzing the older man. You are completely oblivious to the tension, as you look at the milk bottles that are stacked up in the booth.

"Hey, Frank! Care if we play?" you pull some tickets out from your back pocket. Frank's mood changes at the sound of your voice and smiles at you.

"Of course! You and your friend here get three shots," he kneels down to hand you three baseballs first.

You throw all three and only get three of the six bottles down.

"Oh, well! Your turn!" you turn to smile at Henry and move out of his way. Frank hands him three baseballs just as he did with you. He takes the ball, pulls his arm back, and....

All six bottles tumble down with a force that startles both you and Frank.

"Well I'll be damned! I have never seen anyone knock those bottles down like that! You play baseball, son?" the older man asks Henry, amazed.

"No," he says, shortly.

The older man clears his throat at the awkward silence before looking towards the stuffed animals that hung around the booth.

"Well, you won. Pick out your prize."

Henry wanted to just walk away, but looked at you in his peripheral. You were staring longingly at a pink elephant plush that had a cute, cartoony face. He points to that one.

"This one right here?" Frank asks, taking the elephant down. Henry nods. "Alright! Here ya go."

Henry takes the stuffed animal and nods at him.

"Bye, Frank!" you call as Henry begins to walk away from the booth.

"Bye, Y/N! See you next year!"

As soon as you both are five feet away from the booth, Henry practically shoves the plush at you.

"Here."

"What-?"

"You wanted it. I got it. Now take it," he says shortly. You look up at him, confused, but he still continues to walk forward and scan the crowd. You take the plushie and smile at it. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, with the softest fur you ever felt.

You squeal and pull Henry into a hug, thanking him. He tenses up and pushes you off.

"What the hell are you doing?" he scowls.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I just w-wanted to...," you trail off, hurt evident in your voice and eyes.

Your change in demeanor causes Henry to feel guilty, and the couple of eyes he could sense on him only added to that feeling. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.

"Look, I'm...I'm sorry, okay. Just...just warn me before you do that again...please," his voice is now soft as he looks at you, wanting you to know that he did really feel sorry.

"Okay," you whisper, still feeling miserable about making him uncomfortable.

"Hey, why don't...," Henry thinks for a second. "Why don't we go on a ride, huh?"

"Okay," a smile forms on your face. "Which one do you wanna go on?"

"Whichever one you'd like," Henry gives you the first genuine smile you had seen that night. This causes your own smile to grow and you take his hand to lead to one of the more thrilling rides. Henry doesn't rip his hand away this time, allowing you to drag him to where you wanted to take him.

Once at the ride you wanted to go on, you handed your elephant to the ride operator and Henry hesitantly gives up his bag, before you enter the ride.

--------------------

By the time the ride had ended, you and Henry were wobbling in the best way possible. Henry let out a shaky laugh. He had never felt so alive. Where had this been his whole life? You let out your own laugh at Henry's reaction, before you and him collect your belongings and go on to do more rides and games. While walking, and even making some small talk with your mystery man, he stops when he spots a phone booth.

Henry thinks about his mother, about his mission. He had to call her, to tell her about how he couldn't get a good opening. He wouldn't mention how he was getting distracted or how he was having fun with a living ray of sunshine. He knew how she would probably react if he was honest.

"Hey, uh, Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you look up at him, beaming.

"I, uh...I have to make a phone call. I-I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay! I'll wait right here!" you chirp.

He nods and gives you a small smile, before walking to the booth.

Henry enters the booth and sighs. He rummages around in his pocket before finding some quarters and inserting them into the machine. He lifts the phone and inserts the number to the motel room he and his mother were staying in. He waits, tapping his foot nervously as he waits. Then it stops, and a familiar voice speaks from the other end.

"Yes?" his mother says.

"H-Hi, mom."

"Oh, Henry!" her voice is cheerful. "Did you finish your 'assignment'?"

"No, I haven't. I can't get a good opening," he doesn't mention that he had lost the man to begin with. "Besides, this one person won't leave me alone. They're constantly following me around and bothering me."

His mom sighs on the other end and thinks.

"I'll be over there in a bit. Keep trying, dear. And remember, if you do find your opening, do what you must. Poor kid," she mutters towards the end of the statement.

Henry's stomach drops. He knows instantly what she meant. He didn't want to hurt you. You had nothing to do with...with all of this. You were an innocent, sweet person in this miserable world. Why get rid of someone like you?

"Henry, sweetie, you there?" his mother questions.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, I, uh...I was just looking around. Look, don't worry about coming over. I got this, I promise. I'll call you if I need you, okay?"

"Hm...okay," she pauses, clearly skeptical at her son's words. "Please just stay safe, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, mom. Bye."

"Goodbye."

There is a click, and then the line goes dead. Henry lets out a shaky breath and sets the phone back on its cradle. A knock at the booth startles him out of his thoughts. He turns around to see you looking at him, concerned.

He opens the door to the booth and steps out.

"Sorry," you apologize. "I just wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah...don't worry about it, okay? Food, uh...food sounds great."

"Okay. What would you like?" Henry thinks for a moment before cracking a smile at you.

"Surprise me!"

You nod and walk off to find a food booth. You knew exactly what you wanted to get. You had been craving it ever since you entered the carnival grounds.

Henry followed behind you, curious as to what you were going to get as you passed booth after booth. Then you stop, just what you were looking for.

"I was wondering when you were gonna show up," a woman greets you.

"Hi, Pam!" you smile at her and hand her some dollar bills. "Two candied apples, please!"

"Two?" Pam cocks her head to the side until her eyes fall on Henry. "Oh, I see."

She smirks, interpreting the mystery man besides you and how you were lovingly holding your elephant plush as a date.

A few moments later, Pam turns back to you and Henry with two candied apples in her hands.

"Enjoy, you two!" she winks at you when you and Henry take your treats. The two of you walk once more, while Henry investigates the sweet in his hand. You look over at him and laugh.

"What? Have you never had a candied apple before?"

"Uh, no actually. Are...are they your favorite?" he asks.

"Uh huh!" you nod eagerly. "I have to have at least one when the carnival's up!"

It was true. Ever since you had the teeth to eat them, candied apples had been your favorite treat, even with all of the cavities you had gotten over the years because of them.

Henry slowly raises the apple to his lips and bites down. The taste causes him to pause. He had never tasted something so sweet. It seemed fitting that they were your favorite.

"You like it?" you ask.

He nods his head, before he takes another bite.

--------------------

"So you really aren't gonna leave tomorrow?" you look at Henry sadly.

"Yeah, I-I'm, um...I'm afraid so."

You had learned that Henry was just visiting your hometown on a road trip with his mom. You thought that was fun, because your family always goes on road trips every summer, and yet you were going to miss your new mystery friend.

"Oh, Y/N! There you are!"

You and Henry turn around, seeing your two friends running towards you.

"Yeah, we were really worried!"

That causes Henry to stare daggers at them. They were worried? If they were so Goddamned worried about your safety, then they wouldn't have abandoned you.

"Uh, Y/N...who's this?" they both look at the man beside you that was making them feel uncomfortable under his stare.

'Good,' Henry thought.

"Oh, this is just my friend I made who kept me company this whole time," your voice is still cheerful, but you were still trying to guilt them. Henry smirks at that.

"Oh, well, uh...it's-it's getting late. We should start heading home."

Your eyes widen at that and you look down at your watch. It was almost midnight. God, your parents were gonna kill you.

"Yeah, you guys head to the entrance. I'll catch up!" your friends look at the boy besides you. Despite being the same age as them, something about him didn't seem right. They slowly turn around and do as you told them. As you watch them go, you hear a certain someone mutter something behind you.

"Henry."

"What?" you turn to look up at him.

"That's my name," Henry says.

You try the name out and smile. The sound of you saying his name made his chest feel weird.

"You look like a 'Henry'," you quip.

"That a bad thing?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"Nope!" you giggle and shake your head. Your demeanor changes and you awkwardly fiddle for something in your back pocket.

"Here," you hand him a small slip of paper.

Henry takes the paper and unravels it, a phone number revealing itself to him.

"Just in case you wanna keep in touch, o-or you know...just letting me know if you're gonna be in town again," you sheepishly state, squeezing the elephant in your arms. You had written your number down when he went off to make his phone call. You felt silly since you didn’t even know his name yet, but you knew you liked him either way.

"I, uh...I think I'll do just that," he smiles at you and puts the paper in his pocket. You smile back.

"I'm gonna hug you. Is that okay?"

Henry laughs, before opening his arms to you. You wrap one of your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist. Neither of you want to pull away, knowing that it would mean the end of your night together and who knows how long until you see each other again.

Unfortunately, your friends were waiting for you and he had a mission that you were unaware of. You pull away first.

"Goodbye, Henry," you quickly press a peck to his cheek. He tenses, but then looks at you shyly.

"Y-Yeah...goodbye, Y/N," a shade of pink crosses his face. He then clears his throat before pointing to your plushie. "You take good care of him."

You giggle and nod your head, before turning and walking away from him. Not even five feet away from him, you turn back and wave both your hand and your elephant's arm goodbye. Henry shakes his head and smiles, lifting his hand up to give a small wave of his own.

He stood there, watching your figure get smaller and smaller, until you disappeared into the crowd entirely.

--------------------

The man was killed swiftly in the haunted house of all places. No one suspected a thing, believing that the body was just a prop and the screams just sound effects.

Now Henry was laying down on his bed in the motel room his mother had rented. She was in the bathroom washing his knife and mask.

He could still hear the noises of the crowds cheering, feel the shakiness in his limbs after a thrill ride, taste the candied apple on his tongue, and feel your kiss on his cheek.

Perhaps when he and his mother got into the next town and had to split up again, he would see if that number you gave him was real.

#killer frequency #killer frequency game #killer frequency x reader #killer frequency game x reader #henry barrow #henry barrow x reader #x reader #rita writes

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