#i liked the pacing and the editing in the beginning

[sukunas-wife]

Hehehe rising at 12:57 in the morning for my day of birth 🥺🤍🤍

In commemoration of my birthday, I offer Birthday Sukuna (Student edition) 🥺 I love Big Daddy Ryomen, he loves his wife so much even though she has no find details 💀 (Yet- maybe) they give me Kushina/Minato when Naruto had his Madara induced dream

In all things, the Sukuna family wasn't to extravagantly celebrate holidays. “Special days” such as Christmas, Halloween, Valentines, White Day, and those other seasonal festivities would be recognized, however Ryomen Senior and Junior would usually brush it off, leaving it to their wife and mother to make arrangements.

Akira Sukuna, was a woman who came from a family who loved to celebrate the holidays. Seeing it as a way for the family to come together and tighten loose bonds. Birthdays and Anniversaries in specific were her priority. A sentiment her husband had shared from the beginning. If there was a special day, it would be his wife’s birthday, or his son's birthday. Followed very closely by his wedding anniversary.

Now here she stood yelling at her son, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y/N’S BIRTHDAY IS THIS WEEK AND YOU DON'T HAVE A GIFT OR ANYTHING PLANNED OUT!? WHAT DID YOU DO FOR HER LAST BIRTHDAY!? DON'T TRY TO SPEAK OVER ME YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THEN EITHER! RYOMEN SUKUNA JUNIOR, I MAY HAVE BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD BUT I WILL NOT HESITATE TO TAKE YOU OUT OF IT YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT BIRTHDAYS ARE I SHOULD- OH- MMM, YOU- RYOMEN GET YOUR SON.” She was livid, and pacing around in front of the table where she had sat her son after he nonchalantly mentioned your birthday would be during the week. Then proceeded to say “Oh I don’t have anything.” After his mother asked what he was going to do to celebrate.

Sukuna turned to look at his father who was attempting to avoid the scene, “Ryomen,” he cleared his throat unable to think of the proper words, “You should understand by now how important days like these are. They come around once a year. Holidays will continue with or without us, birthdays can only be celebrated with that person. You don’t celebrate the birthday of a dead person or a person who is no longer in your life, we celebrate the living because they’re alive and with us in these moments. Our time here is limited and that’s what makes it special, that’s what makes spending time with your loved ones special.” He looked at his wife for approval, she had a soft smile, “Aww my Ryomen.” She raised her arms bringing her husband into a hug, a hand on his face bringing him down to kiss him.

Sukuna cringed at the sight, and scoffed when he saw his dad wink at him. Of course his dad would know how to play his moms game and get away with it.

“Now,” his mom tuned to him with a smile, break into your saving and go find something nice.” Sukuna hesitated in getting up, waiting as if there was something more to be said, and there was. “AND I'M JUDGING EVERYTHING YOU DO AND BRING SO YOU BETTER BE READY TO EXPLAIN AND DEFEND YOURSELF WHEN YOU GET BACK RYOMEN.”

He was quick to evacuate hearing his dad laugh, “That’s my girl.” He heard the mumbles of his parents as he ran to his room and out the house, “Find something nice…” he scoffed to himself, “I’ll find something better than nice, I’ll find something amazing you’re gonna be jealous.” He was mouthing off, shaking his head while looking at the cards in his wallet. He had one escape plan if something was out of his limit, which would be hard considering his father never turned off his weekly allowance from all those years ago. He let out a smug laugh before he was officially ready to go.

—- —- —- —- —-

“So what’s the difference between this and that?” Sukuna was squinting displeased at the poor lady behind the counter. She looked around, frantically begging silently for her superior to hurry with his lunch. “Well, this is 2.8 carrots for 775,939.73 yen…” she motioned to the bracelet on the velvet display in front of him.

She hesitated to turn around in fear he’d pocket the bracelet and run off. But his stare had her more fearful of offending him by moving the bracelet away. “I-I’m sorry sir, would you please tell me what you're asking about when you refer to ‘that’.” He gestured to a necklace sitting on a high shelf over a velvet stand, “That necklace up there.” She slowly turned her head, shaky hand resting on the glass case ready to snatch up the bracelet at any sudden movements. Sukuna was occupied tapping away at his phone doing maths to justify his spending.

“S-sir,” the jeweller carefully placed the velvet stand in front of him on the glass case. She watched as Sukuna put his phone away, hand coming up and taking the centre diamond between his curled pointer finger and thumb. He lifted it higher to get a closer look at it, uncurling his hand to let the strand of diamonds run over his fingers. “This is seven carrots in total weight and it goes for 1,901,013.11 yen. It’s called a graduated diamond necklace. The diamonds graduate in size as they near the centre. Many couples or parents for their children like to start off with a hand full of diamonds usually 5-7, odd numbers so the centre stone usually remains the largest and add on more as they achieve accompaniments in life such as graduation, engagement, marriage, job promotions, pregnancies, anniversaries or birthdays.” The sales woman smiled at him, missing his eye twitch, “birthdays…” was all she heard him say before he took a deep breath and sighed, “This may be improbable but will you take a full single payment.” The lady blinked, “I..I’m.. Yes?”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Hey! I just called! You didn’t answer so I thought you were busy and weren’t gonna call back.” Your voice on the phone had Sukuna’s lips shifting into a faint cross of a smile and a smirk.

“I know, I watched the phone ring.” His grin grew when you scoffed “How rude. This is why you're not in the running for Boyfriend of the year and my plushie is.” His grin didn’t falter, “Yeah yeah, see if that little shit buys you your McDonalds happy meal when you want to collect their stupid little toys.” He heard your hushed devious laugh and rose a brow, “why-WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?” You spoke over him, and his eye twitched, “I’m out, running errands foorrr… running errands.” “Awwww you’re such a good boy running errands for your mommy huh?” He rolled his eyes at your tone, “Yeah sure.” He started to turn on his car, “WAIT” his eyes snapped to his phone, “Ryo, wait wait wait. Hold on, don’t do anything.” He started looking around, there wasn’t a chance in hell you were telling him to wait and not do anything just by chance. He saw you, running up the sidewalk and around his car to the passenger side and jumping in, your phones echoing until you ended the call. He looked at you, mouth slightly open and brows furrowed, “Hi.” You smiled at him, “y/n…” he sighed, “What were you doing running down the sidewalk.”

“Oh, well, I had to um, I was doing a thing where I was going to go and-“ he cut you off with an unimpressed look, “You were going to McDonalds for that hello kitt-Sanrio collection!” You cut him off with a grin leaning forward and smacking the dashboard, “C'mon let’s go! The fries are only getting colder.” He sighed, “Fine but first, get away from the dashboard.” His arm pushing you back against the seat as he reached over to grab your seat belt was something you’d never fight against, instead you always took the opportunity to grab his face and kiss his cheek.

“So what are you doing here at,” you looked out the window, “Woah, that’s the fancy jewellery store.” He shrugged, “Picking up a gift.” He was nonchalant and you awed, “Aww your dad is so sweet to your mom, he loves his wife so much.” He shook his head with a faint smile, side eyeing how your expression, how your eyes lingered on the shop with a soft smile. “Alright, let’s go.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Cmmoonn Ryyooooo.” You whine sitting beside him. He was still sucking from his straw, side eyes you and he tilted his head to the side. You took it as a yes and started to raise your hand and he pulled his head back, “No.” you huffed, “You’re just jealous I’m prettier.” He rolled his eyes watching as you threw your Kuromi comb back onto the booth's table and picked up the sliding Little Twin Stars mirror, opening it to look at yourself and nodding your head. He laughed and put his empty cup down. You looked at his empty cup as he flicked the fries on the wrapper around before eating one. You picked up your cup and took a sip holding it in your hand as if your were offering it, he took and started to sip on what was left of your drink and you angled the mirror to look at him. He let the straw go to make a face at you through the mirror. Snapping your head to him, “Why did you drink my sprite?” He looked confused, “You gave it to m-why did you drink my sprite I was just holding it here and you took-.” You closed your mouth when he pressed some fries to your lip and you shook your head, “Why did you drink-“ he held the fries out to you and you smiled trying to pull away and he did it again, finally you took a bite of the fries and he snapped back at you “why did you eat my fries?” You looked away smiling half covering your face with your spread open hand, “I can't stand you.” You missed his grin, “It’s a good thing you’re sitting down then.” You both sat back against the booth, watching the orange even slowly turn pink. The people passing, the ones on bikes, the kids running by looking like they were avoiding someone they had caused trouble for. You smiled propping your face on the palm of your hand, staring off into the skyline watching the birds pass over. “What do you think tomorrow will be like?” He eyed you, following your stare into the city building skyline. “Hopefully quiet, I wanted to sleep in but I ended up getting in trouble this morning and sent out.” You hummed, “heh, your mom reminds me of Naruto’s mom, don’t tell me your dad I’d like Minato too.” Sukuna went blank, doing his best to remember what you were talking about. There was a small twitch in his lips, “It’s close.”

You smiled huffing through your nose, “Oh wanna go with me to pick up a dress? I was supposed to earlier but ya know.” You picked up the little hello kitty case and shook it around, “I got distracted.” He smirked down at you, “Got distracted or just wanted a ride?” Your sheepish grin gave it away, “Alright, let’s clean up and go.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“You’ve been out all day, what did you get?” Sukuna’s mother was quick to stop him at the entrance, “You don’t have anything big so I’m hoping you have plans?” Her eye twitched the same way he had earlier under the stress.

“I do.” She smiled pulling him in, great WE” she yelled back over her shoulder, “want to hear all about it.”

Sukuna heard his dad groan, “Oh- I mean ofcourse we do.”

That’s how he ended up sat across from them, all of them in silence after he explained his gift choice… “Well.. congratulations on your engagement sweetie.” Sukuna and his father looked at their respective wife and mom, “I’m sorry, dove, what did you say?”

“It's graduation. diamond. necklace. Ryomen, that’s a lifelong commitment. Y/n isn’t his daughter so he would be stupid if he’s going to give this gift away and he doesn’t plan on having a future with her. But, that’s not my little Ryomen. No, he’s smarter than that, so I’m congratulating him on his pre engagement statement.” She looked away sipping from her cup of tea that had long ago gone cold. Her husband was looking at her and she placed her cup down, “Don’t argue with me about this, he came in here and said it’s for LIFE ACHIEVEMENTS, then said graduations, Engagements, marriages, pregnancies and anniversaries- does that not sounds like the process of what their lives could pass through???” Her husband paused to think about it, she was making sense, Sukuna was looking between the both of them, “I also bought a dress…” His mom smiled fondly, “Oh that’s sweet, what colour is it?” “…White..” his mom laughed softly, not at his choices but how in her head it sounds like a marriage was taking place, replace the necklace with a ring and she’d be telling him goodbye next week.

“Well, as long as you put thought into it I’m happy and I know y/n will love it.” His mothers soft eyes and smile matched her tone and he nodded. “I hope so, she basically chose it out and left it because she said she couldn’t ever buy something that fancy without a special occasion.” He scrolled through his phone to find the video of you trying on the dress, his mom saw the look on your face, how your eyes lit up when you turned to the mirror, the smile on your face and how your head snapped to him and ‘you’re taking a picture?’ You smiled with closed eyes holding up a peace sign and, ‘Heh, that’s the best you got?’ He questioned you and you pouted, ‘How do you like it?’ The sales woman who finished laying out the dress asked you, “It’s really pretty! I love the sleeves! It’s a little simple but it would look amazing in pictures.’ Your excitement shined through, ‘It’s our first event dress created, I’m so glad you love it, it’s only 152,100.05 yen. We can alter sizes and length upon request if you’d like, but in my opinion I think the length is perfect here, but in the back we could add a small clasp to hold it in just a bit more snug.’ Your blank smile was enough for Sukuna to cut off the video and go to your rescue.

“Sweetie.” His mom smiled at him, but he was smiling like a fool at his phone, the silly look of your blank smile made him laugh, “Ryomen.” He looked up at his mom, “That’s an event gown…” he blinked and nodded, “I heard her say it was an event gown.” His brows furrowed, “A WEDDING, event gown.” His mom stressed the word, “I would know, I was there and I saw the dress when they first brought it in store a week ago for their wedding debut.”

“Biology wants what it wants.”

—- —- —- —- —-

‘Are you going to class in the morning?’ You squinted at Sukuna’s message, it was almost midnight when you had woken up to his message. ‘No, I’m gonna sleep in late. I don't wanna go in tomorrow.’ You watched the screen of your phone when the chat bubble popped up. ‘FINE THEN, didn’t wanna see your face in the morning anyway 😒’ you smiled and laughed lightly at his message. Head nodding as you yawned, blurry vision as you got ready to nod off again.

‘Still awake?’ You blinked slowly at the message, typing your answer and accidentally hitting answer when a call came in.

‘Hey’ Sukuna’s voice on the phone was comforting, ‘hey.’ You were cut off by a yawn. ‘Y/n.. I need to tell you something.’ Yawning again you tried to answer, ‘yeah?’

‘I…’ the line went quiet for a second ‘Happy Birthday y/n…’ silence, you smiled, ‘Thanks Ryo.’ The smile was evident in your voice as you yawned again. Silence took over the line, you laid their comfortably to the thought of Sukuna being the first to wish you happy birthday. ‘Y/n?’ You hummed, ‘Ryomen.’ He let out what sounded like a smug scoff. “I love you…’

You grinned like a mad man, “I love you Ryomen.” You could hear the smile in his voice when he finally spoke up again, ‘Get some rest I’ll see you tomorrow then.’ You hummed with a smile, ‘yeeaah, I’ll see you tomorrow Kuna’m.’

—- —- —- —- —-

Waking up at 5 in the morning wasn’t ideal on your birthday, yet here you were, in a haze staring at your window that was being tapped on. The brief wave of panic had you shooting up until you heard the voice of your cursed lover. Sighing you opened the window and he quietly made his way in.

You yawned trying to ask him why he was here and he just brushed you off kicking off his shoes and taking off his sweater showing the long sleeve shirt that hugged his frame. He pulled down his sweat pants and you were going to look away until he mumbled “Calm down I’m wearing pants.” You looked back to see he was in fact wearing a thinner set of joggers, before he threw himself onto your bed throwing the blanket back. You looked at him as he looked at you, “You coming or not?” You weren’t sure what to say, as another yawn racked through your lungs and chest, “Yeah let me just.” You turned and locked your room door playing a risky game of getting caught with your boyfriend in your bed or getting yelled at for having a locked door. Either way, you’d take a scolding for a locked door any day. Yawning as you made your way to your bed, Sukuna rolled his eyes when he saw how much space you left. With one arm he hauled you over into his chest using the other to pull the blanket up over your shoulder. You settled on his chest as he held you tight, “Happy Birthday brat.” You smiled and hummed, a quiet “yaaay”, left you as you fell asleep on his chest to the faint scent of his cologne comforting you.

—- —- —- —- —-

It wasn’t until you woke up that you realised you had drooled over Sukuna’s chest. You looked up at him and he had an arm thrown over his eyes, the other wrapped around you loosely. His chest was rising and falling slowly as you started to sit up. You sat up and smiled down at him. When his hand slipped from your side he started to wake up groaning. “What time is it?” He was drowsy based on his squinty eyes that kept closing slowly and he’d force them open again. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, “It’s 10:56.” He hummed and let his head fall back into your pillow. You sat there just staring at him and he was staring off at the roof.

“I’m hungry..” he looked at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling before answering you, “Where do you wanna go?” He turned to you to see your cheesy grin before he popped your thigh with his hand, “It’s your birthday we’re not going to McDonald’s.” You huffed, pulling his hand into yours, spreading his fingers out and popping his joints, “How about one of those fancy kfc lunches?” He laughed, flexing his hand before intertwining his hand with your own, “I’ll take you somewhere I know that little brain of yours will be entertained entirely.” You would’ve squinted at his little Brian comment but let it slide, “alright, I’ll get dressed then and we can go. He rolled over to face you, you were sitting facing his chest before he propped his head up on an arm, “The place doesn't open til four, we have about 6 hours to burn if there’s something you wanna do.” You sighed, “I don’t know, I’m just hungry.” He huffed, flaring his dramatics, “Fine, get ready I’ll take you somewhere you can eat BEFORE we go eat.” He watched as you jumped up running over to your closet pulling out whatever it was before rushing out your room. He made quick work of getting out of your bed and running to your window to pull his bag in. It was a duffle bag that had your presents, his clothes and a few extra things.

By the time you came back he was dressed and stretched out over your bed that he tried to straighten up. “Took long enough.”

—- —- —- —- —-

You were indulgent in the little treats Sukuna kept paying for. By now you had one to many mini bags and Sukuna was carrying a few more. Each one was filled with chocolates and sweets you had picked up from every shop he had taken you to. Biting into a chewy fudge you were content with how it was sweet but not overwhelming, it was smooth and didn’t taste strongly or bitter. Turning to Sukuna with a smile you held the piece up to his lips, any other day he’d resist and make you work for it but he was curious and immediately inhaled your sweet making you laugh. The both of you sat in silence sharing sweets and opinions on what could be better. You mostly listened to Sukuna as he critiqued harsher things.

“Now what?” You asked as he chewed on another piece you pushed to his lips. He shrugged, “Is there anything you wanted to do?” You hummed looking around, and down at your shoes. They were your worn down sneakers, you’d wear when you’d often go out with Sukuna because they were more comfortable than those stiff loafers you’d use for uniform. You kicked your feet, “I wanna go buy new shoes, pretty soon I’ll have to retire these.” He looked at your shoes, “Yeah, didn’t wanna say anything but they look like they’re begging for a break.” You smacked his shoulder and he grinned at you catching your hand squeezing it, “truth hurts sweetheart.”

“Alright, let’s go then, take my bags.” You handed him the rest of the small bags that held chocolates neither of you liked. He rolled his eyes taking them from you and following you God knows where.

That’s how you ended up here, trying on shoes with Sukuna watching intently. You made the mistake of asking his opinion and he had taken his role seriously. “No, you’re not a show girl y/n you’re not going to wear six inch heels anywhere. You’ll break your ankle anyway, look.” His open hand motioned to your wobbly walk. “You just hate me cause I’m pretty Ryo.” He let out a single laugh, “Try these instead.” You sat across the aisle from him holding up your foot to him, “Change it for me?” If you were anyone else he would’ve thrown the box of shoes at you. But alas, there he was with a soft smile a scoff, untying your heel and putting your sock back on he placed the new shoe on your foot. They were simple converse but you were gleaming because he put it on and even tied it for you. “Perfect.” You wiggled your foot at him and he grabbed your foot by the sole of the shoe pulling the shoe off, “Great, we’ve been here so long I think we can go eat now.” You hummed lifting your other foot for him to take the heel off and put your sock on. He watched as you huffed trying to slip your old shoes on. “What about all the bags?” “We can take them back to your home and I’ll give you your birthday present.” He saw how your eyes lit up, “How about now?”

The way you exaggerated batting your eyelashes had a small smile tugging at his lips, “I left it at your house so you wouldn’t bother me all day, let’s go pay and then when we get there you can open it. I won’t fight you about it because you have to use it today or I’ll take it back.” You were smiling like a love struck fool when he offered his hand. You took it, letting him help you up before hugging his arm resting your head on his shoulder, “I love you.” He looked down at you from an angle, “mhm.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“No… Sukuna..” you held the dress to your chest looking at him with a sympathetic smile, before holding the dress up and smiling at it before hugging it to your chest again looking at Sukuna, “you didn’t have too Ryo, I love it so much, but it was so expensive I can’t, awww but it’s so pretty Ryyoooo.” You whined doing a little stompy dance squeezing your dress to your chest before throwing it in your bed beside Sukuna. He reached over to pick it up until you were between his legs squeezing him in a hug, his head pressed against your chest with wide eyes. He couldn’t get used to the displays of affection, still he let his hands hover over you until he hugged your waist letting you press your cheek to the top of his head and squeeze him harder, “I lied you are in the running for best boyfriend of the year.” You didn’t see the way he smiled but you felt the way he laughed when he pulled away shaking his head, “Where’s that damn plushie anyway.” You pulled him back into your chest fearing for your plushies life, “Uh, no where.” He squeezed your waist in his hud before he tried to push you back so he could stand. “Get dressed, I need to get ready.” You finally let him go and he turned to give your dress a Quick Look before grabbing his bag and heading out to the bathroom.

It took half an hour for you to get ready and you were still in a Fritz about shoes and how you were supposed to close your zipper. Finally you gave up sitting down on your bed huffing. The knock on your door pulled you out of your despair, “help me..” your plea had Sukuna dropping his bag and walking over to you with a focused face as he motioned you to stand. You did and face your open closet door, the body mirror there showed your reflection and how elegant the dress made you look. You smiled at yourself watching as Sukuna looked like he was struggling, “Step forward.” Was all he said as he finally stood behind you and zipped up your dress, you were smiling bright at your reflection, watching how it looked like he was pulling at something. “Is something wrong?” He looked up at you through the mirror, “Yeah something is missing.” His furrowed brows looked concerned through the mirror and you gave him a worried look, “Put your hands down I’ll fix it.” You kept your arms to your side hearing him rustle something around before he looked up bringing his arms around your shoulder over chest. He pressed his hands together before pulling them apart slowly showing you the reflection of the necklace he had bought. Your jaw dropped before you started choking, “RYOMEN.” You tried to step back only to bump into his chest as he laughed, stepping back to clip the necklace onto you, “What.” “NO RYO you didn’t have to, please, I’m gonna cry.” His smile was priceless, he looked so soft staring at you through the mirror. The edges of his lips were pulled up into soft smiles, his eyes were full of sentiment. “I think it fits well y/n.” You felt heat race to your face as you forced your eyes closed cupping your hands over your face. You turned to face him, hugging him and burying your face in his chest to hide your face, “rryyooo.” Your muffled whine was ignored when he laughed lightly patting you back with his hand, “if you really don’t want it I’ll take it-NO IT'S MINE.” The way you turned your head to the side with a sheepish pout led him to sigh, smiling down at you, “you’re a mess y/n.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Ooou, well aren’t you just fancy.” You shook your head side to side taunting him. “No, I just don’t spend all my money at McDonald’s for toys.” He flicked your forehead making you squirt him and make a face. “So… what is this exactly?”

“Just trust me you’ll like it alright, my parents are here also or else we wouldn’t get a private room so you can have fun with that also.” You both stopped when the hostess stopped in front of a Shoji door, “This is the room reserved for Ryomen Sukuna and company. Company has already arrived.” She slid the door open and there you saw Mr and Mrs Sukuna. Your bright smile was genuine as you greeted them, being wished happy birthday and squeezed into a tight hug by his mother. She held at arm's length, “Oh you look beautiful! This is beautiful. Where did you get it? You look very nice y/n.” Her eyes fell on her son, she looked him up and down, “I see you took a lesson from your father.” Her husband choked in the background looking at his son. Black dress shirt, black dress pants, shiny dress shoes and a black tie. “I don’t see anything wrong with it…” his mumble had her casting him a side glance, “There are other colours other than black husband.” He grinned, “Says the woman wearing black.” You smiled before she turned back to you rolling her eyes, “men.” Your laugh had her refocusing on you, “assuming Sukuna was with you all day after I got a call saying he was in fact not in school, how was your day?” She was smiling, nodding along as you went about telling her of the chocolates you tried, she was surprised Sukuna ate any considering he didn’t like chocolate all that much. Even more surprised when you told her you spent over an hour shoe shopping before he finally found you a decent pair. The two of you kept talking until she asked what he had gotten you as a gift. She was how you perked up jumping out of your chair to show her your dress in its full glory, “He bought me this dress, I really loved it when we saw it in a store, but I couldn’t get it because of how pricey it was. I almost started crying and telling him to take it back.” His mother admired your enthusiasm and sheepish smile, “Well, it looks amazing y/n. A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl.” You blushed with a sheepish smile. “Thank you he also got me this actually, you asked earlier but I didn’t get the chance to answer.” She watched as your hand touched the necklace. Your expression changed to a soft smile as you looked down, “I kept telling him he didn’t have too, I actually started crying.” She looked at her son, he was staring at you with a goofy smile until his dad elbowed him talking about something he didn’t have a clue of.

She smiled, “You’re a very lucky girl Y/n, but I can say that Ryomen is even luckier to have found someone like you.”

You all turned to the door when there was a tap. A chef rolled in with a cart, “It’s a special day, so we’re going to make it extra special!” Sukuna’s mom left you to sit by her husband leaving room for Sukuna to sit with you, “You’re going to love this.” You smiled at him, he was staring at you with a small smile. You reached over under the table taking his hand and bringing it to your lap squeezing it in both of yours. “Thank you for everything Ryomen, I love you.” It wasn't until your hand came up to bring his face closer and you kissed his jaw he reacted. His father laughed at his son's wide eyes and reddening face. The Chef laughed, drawing a heart with oil on the flat grill, “ah, young love,” he lit the oil causing a burst of flames leaving you in awe, squeezing and shaking Sukuna’s hand. He missed the entire show but was content with taking in your reactions.

It was true and he hadn’t realised it, he was in love with you and he couldn’t deny it.

(On a side note, I went to early birthday lunch and I dressed up and a lady literally got a glimpse of me and snapped her head around and screamed across the room “OH MY GOD YOURE BEAUTIFUL!” And i felt so loved 🥰🥰 also go you wanna leave me a gift 🥹 here’s my PayPal (my cash app didn’t wanna link) but it’s not obligatory or anything, I’ll probably take them down later because it makes me feel funny. Someone sent me a dollar and I love that virtual dollar sm it makes me smile lol)

Tag: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille

@sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing

🤍🥳

[mikimeiko]

Tetris (Jon S. Baird, 2023)

[gamebunny-advance]

Vs. DJ Subatomic Supernova Heaven Studio Mix (v 0.1)

So, I remade my original Vs. DJSS mix in Heaven Studio. Actually, I've been sitting on this for a while, but tumblr just didn't want to upload the video for whatever reason.

Since HS doesn't have every game from this mix in it yet, I had to do some substitutions. Of note, Sick Beats was replaced mostly by Fireworks and Launch Party and I had to change the last game, but the original "joke" is still intact.

I didn't do too much with the visuals (except the very last part), and the skill star is messed up, so I'm not going to release the playable version until I get all that fixed. I'd really like there to be some cleaner transitions between games, and maybe even do some custom graphics. We'll see if either happens.

[clowningaroundmars]

miles g fic first draft is DONE. 30k words in case y'all wanted to know 😪

all i have to do now is just edit it andddd uh hopefully its up on ao3 before long!! :)

[pyjamacryptid]

man… I’m trying to edit this merlin and morgana vid and I’m making myself sad. It’s not a ship vid - it’s how Merlin and Morgana both received prophecies (about Mordred and Gwen respectively) and enacted treatment based on something that had yet to happen. One felt he had no choice (though he did) and the other simply did not want to let that future come to pass (“and I’m sorry Gwen but I can never let that happen.”). And then how they did the same to each other too. And my brain feels sososo full of thoughts about it and now my heart feels pained sksjwk. Also my editing program’s timeline is a MESS lol

[coquelicoq]

had a dream that wang zhuocheng and meng ziyi were starring in a new show together and i wasn't watching it but then i found out somehow that it was based on a true story, specifically a true story that happened to my stepdad, like it was about some crazy business scheme he had gotten himself embroiled in thirty years ago or something, and i was DYING to come on here and talk about it because no one i know in real life follows the careers of these two chinese actors and i apparently had a bunch of insider information about the story it was based on, but i couldn't say anything about all that without revealing my identity, so i just had to sit here reading people's bad takes and suffering IN SILENCE. like where did all that come from. my stepdad is a garbageman.

[yioh]

i havent read the little mushroom but from your description might i introduce you to the fixation of all fixations Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint?

hiii anon!! hmmm i have actually read quite a few chapters of the orv webtoon but 😭 idk i kinda just lost interest… i definitely probably didn’t get to all the juicy angsty bits of the plot though…. i know that it is being licensed though so i might buy the physicals and read it in the future!! do you know if the novel itself is easy to get into or is it more slow paced at the start?

[moosegbt]

Happy one year anniversary to my Over the Garden Wall VHS tape project!

I made it in both orange and black. I like black more, but orange really feels more in the spirit of the season. I used the shell from a VHS copy of the Rugrats movie.

I made the box art using various screenshots from the show, as well as some promo art. The description was taken from the DVD release, and the description title “will you take a peek?” was the tagline during the promotion of the show.

The back also has a fun little easter egg: the barcode is for candy corn!

What’s more is the tape has a special cut of the series that I made myself. I cropped every single scene in every single episode to make sure it naturally fit in a 4:3 aspect ratio, and I edited the episodes together to flow as if it were one movie (the pacing is a little like Babe). Additionally, I added trailers for movies that give me the same nostalgic vibes (The Last Unicorn, Princess Mononoke, Steven Universe: The Movie, and The Iron Giant). I also added the Warner Brothers and Cartoon Network title cards.

I printed this cut into the tape by integrating a VCR into my PC setup. If you want to see more about this project, I have a few videos about it on my TikTok @MooseGBT, or you can check out the main one right here!

The video has an earlier version of the tape, which is why the actual tape doesn’t have a real label (it’s kind of just a piece of paper slapped on upside down with tape). The content on the tape, however, is the same.

This was a really fun project, and I’ve already started working on a VHS cut of Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Steven Universe: The Movie, the Star Wars Sequel trilogy (I have 1-6 on VHS, and I also want 7-9), and the other Star Wars movies (the Christmas Special, the Clone Wars, Solo, Kenobi, and Rogue One). I also have plans to begin editing and printing the FNAF movie, the spiderverse trilogy (once ATSV pt 2 comes out), and Don’t Hug me I’m Scared.

[extraordinari1y-ordinary-writer]

What You Want

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Content Warning: NSFW; breeding kink; Bucky's got a thick c*ck and big balls 🤷‍♂️; praise kink?; dumbification?; language; whatever else I failed to mention.

Word Count: 670

Note: Was this requested? No! It was voted. I hope you guys like this. I'll come back here and there to make some edits where it's necessary. Any gifs or pictures I use are not mine.

Gentle reminder that I am always open for feedback! 💕

MDNI (18+)

Bucky pushes your back onto the bed. His eyes are dark, almost predatory. You can see his erection in his pants, straining against its confines. You whimper. Bucky gives a hint of a smirk as he tugged your pajama shorts off.

Next was your panties. He pulled them off with ease, spreading your legs and eyeing your cunt. One hand on your knee, his thumb gently stroking the soft flesh of your leg. You were wet—almost embarrassingly so. You spread your legs wider, hoping he'd get the hint. The hand on your knee moved down your thigh, his fingers dancing dangerously close to your dripping core. You let out a slight whine.

In one swift motion, Bucky moved his hand to your core. Thick fingers drawing tight circles on your clit. You moaned, grinding yourself into his hand. Bucky felt his cock twitch. He could feel your cunt throb. He applied more pressure to your clit.

"Bucky, please," you gasp. You're grasping at the bed sheets, panting and trembling. It felt good, but you wanted more. You needed more. "I—ah—I, fuck—" you trailed off, letting out another moan as he sped up his ministrations.

"Tell me what you need," Bucky pants. His other hand was stuffed down his pants, lazily stroking his cock.

You look at him with hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. "Please," you whine. "In me!"

You let out a cry when he pushes a finger in. He groans, exploring the wetness of your soft folds. "Here?" he teases. Bucky pumps his finger, his thumb continuing its assault on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You nearly sob. Bucky maneuvers his cock out. It feels heavy in his hands, pre-cum dribbling out of his reddened tip. He begins pumping himself in time with him finger fucking you.

"Right there," you stammer. "Oh God—yes, yes, yes!—more, please; I need more!"

Bucky added a second finger, then a third. "You're so good," he grunted. His cock twitched again. He felt his balls starting to rise that burning feeling in the pit of his stomach. He quickened his pace with you and himself. You were writhing against Bucky's, incoherent babbles escaping you as your orgasm fast approached. The soft walls of your cunt squeezed his fingers, arousal dripping from his hand.

You're on the brink of an orgasm when you look at him. You see him fisting his cock, thick and veiny. Cum dribbles from his tip, the hand stuffed between your legs is coated in your juices, dripping from your arousal. Sweat coats his chest, eyes lust-filled as he looks at you.

You imagine his hardened cock between your legs, stuffing you and fucking you senseless. You imagine his balls, always heavy and full of cum, slapping against your ass until he finally empties his load into you. Ropes of thick, white cum painting your walls, filling your weeping core. You want him to keep fucking you and filling you until you're a mess, until you feel him dribbling out of you.

But the one thing you want the most is for his load to catch. You want him to put a baby in you. You need him to. That's what got you in this situation.

Your mouth falls open, letting out a silent scream. Your pussy squeezes around his fingers, your body convulsing. You're gushing around his hand, grinding on him for more friction.

"So pretty," Bucky groans. "So pretty when you're cummin'—fuck! You're so—oh, fuck!—so tight!" He lets out a long groan, rope after rope of hot cum coating his stomach and chest. He chants your name, trying to keep his orgasm going for as long as he can.

When his high subsided, he let go of his softening length. Bucky slowly removed his hand from between your legs. You gave a soft whine. You both breathed heavily, reveling in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

"Bucky," you rasped. He hummed. "I meant it." He looked you over, and felt his member stir. "Let's have a fucking baby."

Masterlist

Taglist: @staria9100 @radcollectivesoul @cuddlefishextrodinaire @ramielll @lelialynn @whiminiferous @gracescor3 @identity2212 @winterslove1917 @hailycheyenne @dp-marvel94 @queerponcho @mystrawberrynigt @oscarissac2099

[marigoldenblooms]

An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

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

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

[becomingmina]

Hii, I loved your „Favourite time and place to eat you out” for skz. Can you do the one with favourite time and place for you too go down on them?

thank you, xoxo

Thank you for the request!!!! @leeknowlover99 💌 This was so fun. (Not proofread 🙃)

Chris/Bang Chan: In bed after he comes back from practice.

Chan hops out of the shower and makes his way over to you, who’s occupied with your book on the bed. He is in nothing but his towel wrapped around his hip, water still dripping from the ends of his curly hair into his broad shoulder.

“Hi baby,” he says happily, hopping on the bed positioning his pillows behind him so he’s comfortable.

“How was practice?” You asked putting down your book and directing all your attention to your boyfriend.

“Good. Everything went well but it went on for so long.”

“Should I reward you with something then? For practicing so for long? You asked back sweetly and he just nods, patting his covered thigh. You peeled back his towel, meeting his half harden dick. Soon you were slotted in between his legs with your ass up, eyes looking up at Chan taking his dick in your hand and slowly licking it to get him fully hard.

“Need more please baby,” he whimpers under you and without teasing your sweet boy any longer you take him to the back of your throat and gagging around him. Chan is unable to resist it when you take care of him. It makes him feel so small and loved, it gets him so soft and calm after a long day at practice.

Lee know/Lee Minho: In the kitchen when you help him bake/cook.

“Let me help you,” Minho comes up from behind you to give you a back hug, moving the spoon from your hand pretending to help you stir the batter, just so he can press his hard on to your ass.

“Min..” you scolded but not moving from him.

“What? I just wanna help you make our cupcakes,” you can feel him smirk in your neck.

“It’s pancakes we’re making by the way,” you giggled turning around, tiptoeing to peck his lips. “If you want your dick sucked just ask?” Your hands rest on the waistband of his shorts not breaking eye contact.

“I want my dick suck,” Minho giggles back and instantly you kneeled down dragging his shorts with you, coming into contact with his hard member that’s sprung free slapping against his lower abdomen. His hands make the way to move your hair out of your face and he watches you take him inside your mouth at your own pace. “Bunny, we should cook together more,” Minho can’t control himself when you take on wifey duties. He just loves how good you are at it and thinks it’s hot when you’re focused on getting everything perfect.

Seo Changbin: Recording room, late late at night.

It’s become a traditional thing now to tag along with Binnie at 2am when he says he needs to go back to work on the tracks for the next album. You continue to lie to the rest of 2racha and Hyunjin that you’re just there for moral support and that Binnie gets scared at that time of night, but you’re pretty sure they know what you two are up to, especially when nothing on the tracks are edited or fixed when they look into it the next day.

“What if I record the sounds one day and just slap it on one of our thrist tracks?” Bin says as you pull down his pants a little releasing his hard dick already dripping with pre cum.

“Well then you have to give me credit for it,” you smile up at him taking in the sexy smirk he gave. You keep your eyes on him witnessing the way his mouth open a bit and how his eyes are shut tight as you begin to swipe around his tip.

The sloppy wet sounds starts to fill up the recording room while you bob back and forth on his length with the help of his hand behind your head. Bin loves when you go down on him in the recording studio as he is able to let out his loud moans and whimpers without anyone hearing them.

Hwang Hyunjin: On his bed after his goes live.

I loved that one live when he is in his cute pyjamas pants and he’s man-spreading on the fkn bed. I want him.

“Do you guys like my pyjamas?” Hyunjin just becomes so cute yet such a tease when he goes on live. You watch him manspread on the bed, eyes landing down on his crotch every now and then to signal to him what you want. He catches on but continues to talk to his fan teasing you a little bit longer - before letting you get what you’ve been yearning off of course.

He turns off the phone after saying good bye and you pulls you into his lap. You start to shower him with kisses from his face down to his neck then down his body over his clothes. He spreads his legs a bit wider and now you sit in between him leaning on your knees.

“Hyun, please?” You press a kiss over his covered cock and waits for him to approve your request. He guides your hand to rest on his thighs and the does all the work pulling down on his pants finally releasing his red hot dick. You gulped at the sight, giving it big widen eyes, wanting to taste it immediately but being the good and obedient girlfriend you are, you wait until he verbal confirms.

“Make me cum doll,” he guides his length into your mouth then his fingers move to caress yours, which was still on his thighs. Your moans are muffled by the way you deep throat him “I love when you get all needy for me when I pay attention to stays. You look so cute with your mouth all full-” he moans trying his best to stay in control even though Hyunjin knows he’s was close to painting your throat white.

Han/Han Jisung: Bathroom stall during dinner.

“I want to cum,” Ji whispered to your ears.

“Not here, wait till we get home,” you whisper back but he shakes his head no. You’ve been riling him up, palming him through his jeans the minute you guys entered the restaurant. Well to be very honest, he started it first hiking his hand from your thigh up during the car ride to dinner.

“Need you now, I want your mouth,” you instantly shiver at the words. Ji was loud in bed so you know it wouldn’t work sucking him off in public because you guys were bound to get caught. But there was a bit inside of you that wanted to punish Ji for getting you aroused. You wanted to see how if he can last without letting out a moan, so you agreed.

“If you stay quiet for me, you can top when you get home,” you provoked him, his eyes wide open. It was something he’s been asking for ever since you guys fucked.

Ji followed you to the bathroom telling the guys you needed help to undo your playsuit, everyone brushed it off. You pull him into the toilets and backed him against the door undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans and boxers to pull around his ankles. You lick a stripe from his balls to his tip and Ji right away let out a loud moan.

“Naughty boy, you won’t get to top later,” you chuckled up, halting your movements, taking him his is fucked out appearance. “But you’re lucky I’m only hungry for your dick tonight,” you reassured him before gripping his base and directing him in your mouth. Ji continues to let out his beautiful loud moans, not caring about who is behind the other side of the door.

Felix/Lee Yongbok: In dressing room before he heads on stage. Have you guys seen skz’s documentary for the 5-star dorm tour? At 20:43 🥵 Because gosh, he’s just so messy there and it’s so so so hot.

Felix was angry with himself. He wasn’t able to get his moves precise and with the concert on tomorrow he had no other options but to bottle up his stress to himself.

“You okay baby?” You asked noticing his demeanour. Felix usually has a lot to say when reviewing his performance or trying on his stage outfits but you detected how silent he was getting. “You need to relax baby, let me help you,” and with that you drop onto your knees and cling his grey sweat pants that was already sitting low on his waist, pulling them down. “Not wearing anything under? Always ready for me hey baby?” You look up at him lustfully, already getting yourself dick-drunk at the sight of his length.

Something about mad Felix got your heart pumping. He looks so gorgeous with his fluffy messy hair and his (yours) headband holding it away from his soft features which was now tensed. You pump him a few times before sticking out your tongue waiting for him to take control. Felix guides your head onto him as he thrusts your mouth, bitting his bottom lip to conceals his moan.

“Mhm- Y/n I love it when you come rehearsal with me,” he praises you as you suck the soul out of him. “Always knowing how to calm me down.. Gonna cu- I’m gonna cum,” and shortly with a hard plunge he releases his warm seeds down your throat. “Thank you baby,” he cooed out of breathe, pulling back to wipe your lips with his thumb.

Kim Seungmin: Waking him up in the morning.

Seungmin is just such a hot boyfriend 🥲

You feel something hard just sitting ontop of your ass when you woke up. Oh someone’s horny already you thought to yourself and grind back on it. You were expecting your boyfriend to grip your waist for you to stay still but he doesn’t. The arm that was draped around your waist stayed perfectly still. You tried again, this time harder, “You awake Minnie?”

“Mhm- baby,” a soft whimper slips from his mouth. Oh Seungmin was still asleep and hard. You could some fun from this. You turned around and push him on his back then completely removing the blanket off him. You palm him to see any sign that he was awake yet but none, he was still.

You pull down his shorts a little to release his morning wood, leaping out to hit his lower abdominal. As you press a lick to his tip his hand sprung from his side and gripped your hair, getting up from the bed to witness your little mischief.

“I’m awake but continue princess,” he says before guiding you down on him. He leans his head back onto the pillow taking in sharp breaths as you go all the way, nose hitting his pelvic bone. “I should fake asleep more often knowing my perfect girlfriend would make me cum even without me asking.”

Yang Jeongin: When he is in a middle of a game.

You’ve been dying for his attention all day and Jeongin knows it. But he was too occupied in a game with Felix and Seungmin for boyfriend duties just yet.

“Baby, if you want me so bad, just suck me off and I’ll give you sex after this round,” he taunts you. You crawl under the computer desk and he helps lift his hip to shimmy down his pants before his dick is free. You jerk him off a little then start to press little kisses on it to get him to harden. You begin to bob up and down in his length making sure it hits your throat every time and in returns Jeongin squirms. Jeongin could barely focus on the game now that you were stimulating him.

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” his hand retracts from the keyboard and onto your hair helping you. “Keep going, please.. Don’t stop..” Jeongin’s gets all pouty and whiny as he is about to cum. You notice hips lifting off the computer chair and you pull yourself off him stopping him from his orgasm. He looks down at you confused, brows scrunched up, lips pursed together in a pout.

“I still want to keeping sucking you baby, you can’t cum yet.” Jeongin was in for a ride.

[queers-gambit]

Not All That Glitters is Gold

prompt: during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he holds choice words about you. or finding out he calls you clingy behind your back.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: cursing, draaaama, mild angst, AU timeline technically, hurt and comfort (reader don't play those games i guess), relationship angst, half edited.

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

His cloak was a shimmering beacon of golden glimmer even in the dark of night. It promoted an air of confidence and swagger, something independent from his usual cockiness. No, with that gold cloak, he walked as if the very air you all breathed was produced by him; being silent and domineering in his presence. It had been something you were initially attracted to, his alluring mystery and overwhelming stoic self-awareness.

He moved around the Throne Room like wings were gifted to his feet, carrying him with lithe movements to look as if gliding. All eyes were on him, whether out of admiration, jealousy, confusion, or lust - eyes followed him no matter where he went, no matter what he did, who he interacted with. You lifted the heavy gold goblet to your lips, taking a careful mouthful of wine before setting it down, swallowing, and standing from your seat at the banquet table.

You wanted your lover, so, you got up to satisfy your craving.

You approached him as he spoke to a pair of noblemen, slowing your gait to ease your arrival and not cause a surprise. Your dress was something a little more alluring, more revealing than you'd usually wear, and as you approached the men, the eyes not belonging to your new fiancé nearly bulged from their skulls.

Daemon turned his head and saw you, smirking as his arm opened and he welcomed you into his side. "I was beginning to wonder where you got off to," you told him softly, one arm around his hips as the other planted your hand against his chest. "The Aunties have descended and are becoming insufferable, I fear I needed reprieve."

Daemon grinned, sounding amused, "It was a matter of time before they found you. Stick with us, darling, the Aunties will stay away."

"They're about to serve dinner," you told him, "perhaps we should find our seats?"

He nodded, looking at the men he had been speaking to before you showed up. Daemon bid politely, offering no other explanation besides, "Excuse us, gentlemen."

They bowed out of their Prince's way, letting Daemon lead you toward the head banquet table (again) where his brother, King Viserys, was sitting with other prominent members of court. The night had been pleasant, everyone rejoicing in the upcoming nuptials between you and the Rogue Prince. For years, he'd been something chaotic and shunned; and after the passing of his first wife, Rhea Royce, he was like a kite cut from string. Loose and set adrift. Wild and out-of-reach. And then you came back into Daemon's life after not seeing one another since you were ten-and-six, and all of a sudden, the Rogue Prince was something more domesticated.

It was a refreshing change, albeit totally uncharacteristic for Daemon.

Viserys was the most shocked of them all, constantly praising you for whatever you had done to his brother to reel him into a controllable pace. He thought you and Daemon were perfect for one another, likened you two to fit-together puzzle pieces. The King had been more than happy to host the celebrations, starting with tonight, an engagement party! You had to play part of dutiful fiancé and upstanding citizen since you were to inherit a royal title; being poised and collected at all times with either a calm, passive expression or one of bright entertainment.

"Here, love," Daemon whispered, pulling your chair out for you. He waited until you were sat before taking his own seat, sighing when he glanced around the table only to settle his gaze on you.

"What's wrong, my Dragon?" You asked softly, leaning in to place your hand over his on his lap; pressed into his side despite the wooden chair arms between you.

"Just amusing," he mused, "most of these Lords and Ladies had much to say about my first marriage, and now, they break our bread to celebrate us."

"Cannot be the first time someone's tried to suck up to you," you chuckled, moving your conjoined hands in your lap. "The dragon does not concern himself with the opinion of the sheep," you advised smartly, "they only tolerate the sheep because one day, the dragon will need to feast - hmm?"

Daemon smirked, "When did you become so insightful, darling?"

"I've always been, you're just pussy-whipped now that I make a lot more sense."

He laughed, letting a servant pour your wine. In your ear, he mused, "Jest all you want, but you were meant to be a Targaryen. Once we are wed, I will plant my seed, and bind us together for eternity."

"Our marriage wouldn't doing exactly that already?"

"A child is more tangible - it's a bloodline."

You shrugged as a plate of blood-red lobster was set in front of you. Viserys truly went all out - giving a wide variety of foods to taste. "A marriage is for life, though," you countered.

"So is a child."

"Until they are married off."

Conversation continued, flowing easily between the family members and patrons of court. Viserys looked pleased, enjoying the celebration as his ailment often caused him grave pain and he could not attend events. He hardly had reason to smile, but when he watched you feed a bite to Daemon, he let his lips spread without thought. Queen Alicent clocked the King's expression, glancing at you and Daemon, then smiled fondly before reaching for her husband's hand.

Throughout the dinner, Rhaenyra watched you and Daemon with a bitter glare on her face; jaw locked and lips pursed. You ignored her obvious displeasure in favor of your husband, both too enraptured with one another to ever pay attention to the Princess' distain. When the meal was over, the dancing, mingling, drinking, and musical portion of the evening commenced.

And cake. Cake was to be served.

Daemon's golden cloak swept around guests as you both played dutiful host for your party, and mingled with those who arrived tonight to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. You did your best to keep up with the plethora of Lords and Ladies, like Daemon did so effortlessly, but it was a lot. You still held your own, but by Gods, there was a lot of people in attendance tonight and there was noway you could remember any names.

Thankfully, while Daemon was caught in a conversation with Ser Gerold Royce, you eventually made it to a small group of familiar faces: Princess Rhaenyra, Ser Harwin Strong, his brother, Larys, Lady Laena Velaryon, and her twin, Ser Laenor.

You graciously received the compliments, well-wishes, and joyful greetings of them all, but acutely noted the Princess did not offer even so much as a polite greeting. "This dress was made for you, it's just darling," Laena complimented, petting the bodice. "It must've cost a fortune."

"It was a gift from Daemon," you told her with a soft smile. "And the necklace, too! See?" You showed her, "He had it custom made, it's Valyrian Steel with embedded jewels."

"The perfect combination of your Houses, and a gorgeous piece of art to hang on such a gorgeous neck," she praised, but it was Princess Rhaenyra's scoff of annoyance that peaked your interest.

You thanked Laena Velaryon before eyeing Rhaenyra. "Princess?" You questioned. "If I may ask you something, plainly?"

"By all means."

"Have I... Upset you in anyway?"

"You mean beside my uncle spending the Crown's coin to buy you something exquisitely made; being a fleeting, lady interest of the Princes'? No, no, nothing's wrong," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What is this distain you hold towards me - towards my relationship with Daemon?" You demanded, the alcohol in your system spurring you on despite knowing the looming consequences of offering a member of the Royal family sharpened words.

"Truly? You wish to know why I do not fawn over you as others?"

"They do not fawn, oh - " You stopped yourself, sighing deeply and correcting yourself, "Of course I wish to know what the issue at hand here is, Princess, I do not wish for ill-will between us. I wish to resolve this."

"In truth, I simply do not understand it, this - this sham of a wedding," she snapped. "Daemon might buy you pretty things, but it's only out of guilt."

"What guilt could he possibly - "

"He finds you overwhelming, overbearing, suffocatingly clingy. So, with his distain, he, too, felt fleeting guilt - being why he showers you with gifts, it's for his own conscious. But if you ask me why I host such distain towards this union, it is because I know my uncle is not happy with your overwhelmingly clingy behavior. He's voiced his displeasure many-a-time. Not just to me, but to the King and Queen, as well."

You felt shell-shocked, acutely aware of the lingering eyes of the audience around you. You worried: how many of them had heard this rumor, how many secretly pitied you? Finding your voice, you managed to squeak out, "I beg your pardon?"

Rhaenyra only shrugged, "You asked, I answered."

"I see," you cleared your throat. "And your answer is that my betrothed has, what, started to slander my name behind my back?"

"Indeed. His chief complaint is how you seem to cling to him more and more, and he doesn't have the heart to push you away more than he already has. You're the one daft enough to not take a hint."

"And where do you get your information from?"

"Daemon, himself."

Your mind raced with all the little things: how Daemon would release your person during public events, avoid physical touch, ignore you sometimes, shut down your woes (call that gaslighting), how he stiffened at times you took his arm, how he seemed to shut down and only offer bored 'mmhms' when you spoke to him about your life. Your heart sank to your feet as you realized there were some truths to Rhaenyra's words.

You nodded slowly as Daemon chose that moment to approach your awkward group. His arm slithered around your waist, but you were silent as the grave and stiff as the corpse in said grave. Your mind raced with the idea that Rhaenyra could just be fucking with you, but the also with the idea that all she said was true.

"I'm going to retire for the evening, I've a headache," you told Daemon, finding an easy way out of his grip, "but you stay, enjoy the celebration. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am just tired."

He agreed and gently kissed you - sure to remain modest but still affectionate. "I'll visit you tonight," he muttered in your ear.

"No, I am truly tired," you told him softly but sternly. "We'll see each other tomorrow."

He hummed, "Then I shall walk you out - "

"No, you're needed here to save face. Go, mingle, play nice," you dismissed him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You bid whoever you came across a good and safe night; thanking them for their attendance tonight. After thanking the King for hosting the party, you disappeared, taking a few secret passages to avoid the main hustle-and-bustle of the feast. When you arrived in your room, you slammed the door, bolted it, and leaned against it for a good long moment. Your mind was reeling with all kinds of thoughts regarding your intended, his niece, all of it suddenly feeling very overwhelming.

You were exhausted, so, you swiftly stripped, unpinned your hair, refused your maid's help, and soaked in a long, hot bath. After, you settled into bed with a book, and tried not to overwhelm yourself with the anxiety tomorrow would bring.

About an hour later, you heard Daemon knocking at your passage door. You paused, not making a sound, hearing his muffled voice, "Love? My love, are you awake?"

You didn't answer.

"Please, sweet girl, let me in," he begged quietly.

When you wrenched the door open, you seethed, "NO!"

"What - ?"

"I heard plenty tonight from your niece. In your moments of frustration, you know what? Sure, complain about your woes - but to find out you call me clingy when in regard to my affection - that's not something I'm going to be happy hearing, Daemon!"

"I know, but let me explain - "

"What? What will you say? That you just needed someone to talk to? To vent your feelings? I get that - I really do. But you fully offered slander to my name, to our relationship; to who I am as a partner. Your poisoned words of your irritation is soaked into your family, in the courts. And now, I must endure the pity those will offer knowing my husband truly holds distain for me!"

"No, you've got it wrong, I don't - "

"Then why!?" You demanded, voice cracking. "Why say those things? Why not come to me and communicate you're not comfortable with this and that behavior!? I won't know unless you tell me, so, instead of talking your shit to the courts and your family, why not just speak to me!?"

"I should have!" He admitted quickly. "I should have, I know that, and it was my mistake, my love. But I regret it, I regret feeling so, so - I don't know! Sure, let's call it frustrated, irritated, I don't care, I just needed it off my chest!"

"I understand that fully, but being as we're to marry one another, I should be the one listening to you when you need something off your chest. You should talk to me. And if I'm the one you need to speak about, choose more trustworthy confidants that do not need further reason to despise me!"

"What're you...? What? What does that mean?"

"Rhaenyra, Daemon! Your niece, Rhaenyra! Every-fucking-thing you've said to her, she remembers, and holds it against me! You forget, when you speak to family about the woes of your relationship, that's all they remember. You get to make up with me, we get to move on, but because you needed t'vent to them, that's what they can hold against me. Do you even wish to marry me, still!?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Then something needs to change," you deadpanned, exhausted by this. "I refuse to be belittled, spat on, and disrespected by your niece any longer."

"I will speak to her."

"Yes, you will! This is far too out of hand! She has weaponized your frustration to drive a wedge between us, and she chose a public event with an audience to lob it all at me!"

"What truly happened with Rhaenyra? What was so bad?"

"Daemon, she called me out for 'being clingy' in front of an audience! At our engagement celebration! Do you know how humiliating that was!? I'm more embarrassed than angry!"

He nodded, "I'll handle this. I swear, my darling, this will be resolved."

"You know what?" You breathed. "Do whatever you please because I've realized something. Not only did Rhaenyra spew our business to others, but you... You said it in the first place. You said those words..."

"Out of anger - "

"But you still spoke them!"

"I was foolish to do so!"

"You are a fool for many reasons, Daemon, but this is one act I am not willing to forgive so blindly. Wear your jester hat all you'd like, but it will take more than pretty words to make this up to me."

"I'll do what it takes to fix this." He tried to step into the room with you, but you held your ground in the doorway. "My love, please, how can I make it up to you if you do not let me in?"

"You must find any other way to do this because there's no chance in any of the Seven Hells that you share my bed again - married or not." You offered him a look of distain, musing, "You know what, I've decided: I simply don't care what you or your family thinks. I am extremely proud of who I am, and there's not a soul alive that can make me feel lesser than. Your words hurt, they cut deeper hearing it from the Princess, but that's simply your opinion," you eased. "I refuse to modify myself, but it's good to know you don't like my affection - I can always reserve it for whoever I choose to warm my bed. What was it you said?" You quipped venomously, "Marriages are political arrangements?"

"Not ours," he snapped.

"Oh? We're so different, are we?" You laughed.

"Of course we are, there's nothing I'd change. Hear me? Nothing," he sounded angry. "I was a fool to speak out of term, but you're right, I should talk to you about it - I am simply unequipped to having a wife I've chosen."

"Oh, spare me - "

"It's true," he insisted, "what woman in my life has loved me as you do? Has encouraged me to be so - so - loving and safe?"

"Apparently, I've been clingy and not as encouraging as I thought."

"I spoke out of turn," he insisted. "You're right - I can't go and take back what I've said. But I will do all I can to ensure I change their opinions on you, to mop up whatever verbal mess I've made."

You laughed without humor.

"And I will set Rhaenyra straight about all of this, I will ensure she knows that there's no room for such tension, jealousy, hatred."

"You swear to clean up all your messes?" You wondered earnestly.

"I swear."

"Good," you mused, "after that, how do you intend on rebuilding my trust?"

Daemon blinked, "You do not trust me anymore?"

"Of course not," you assured, "not since finding out how you speak of me so hatefully without my knowledge. That's where trust comes in, Daemon, but you proved me wrong, and now, that trust is gone."

Daemon looked confused, mouth opening and closing rapidly, shaking his head, "No, no, no, love, don't do this. We're okay, all right? We're fine, things with us - we're fine. We're okay."

"Saying it doesn't make it true."

"Do not tell me," He snapped. "H-Have I lost you?"

"Mhm. Not saying you can't fix things between us, but as of now, there's nothing about you I can trust."

"And if you cannot trust me, can you love me?"

You paused, considering his words. Honestly, his betrayal was something that hurt worse than anything you've endured before. "I'll have to think about that one," you whispered. With a saddened look, you hugged the door, sighing, and bid, "Goodnight, my Prince."

"My sweet - don't shut me out. Don't do this."

"Find a way to make this all up to me," you demanded, "because I'd hate for either of us to eventually resent this marriage, too."

He tried to argue but you shut the door on him forcefully; loudly locking it from the inside to prevent him from following you. You felt yourself brimming with anger, but nothing was like the betrayal coursing through your heart and veins. There was no sleep that night, there was a lot of tears, a lot of pacing, and a lot of grumbling to yourself.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

Clingy Baby collection

[shotmrmiller]

this is for you, @ttsbaby01

here's the piece that inspired this

1.5k words because who knew i needed to write something like this today. i kinda edited it, just a quick skim, though.

simon x f!reader,

tw: explicit smut, p in v, the usual, MDNI

Simon teaches Johnny some new tricks

The moment Simon saw you wince when Johnny pushed himself inside of you, that was all he needed to see. Incredible. For someone that brilliant, Johnny is obtuse when it comes to sex.

Maybe he's blinded by lust, who knows, but Simon almost grimaces at the pace he starts off with, and when he sees you flatten your feet on the bed to meet Johnny's thrusts, Johnny simply pins you down with his weight, forcing you still.

Poor you. All you wanted was to come, and Johnny couldn't even tell, too focused on pistoning his hips into you to meet his own end.

How greedy.

And when Johnny does come, Simon chuckles when he sees your face. It’s mildly disappointed but unsurprised— like you’re used to it.

He watches Johnny kiss you before he pulls out and immediately gets up to shower. That's his cue— the sorry excuse of a show is over. Simon's about to shut his laptop when he sees your hand slowly travel down to your aching pussy and circle your neglected clit with your fingers. Oh?

When he hears your pleasured moan again, he sits up on his chair, pupils expanding as he takes you in. Now this is what he wants to see.

Every delicious whimper and mewl that slithers out of your throat makes his cock twitch in his trousers. He can't help himself. Simon takes himself out and starts to pump according to the rhythm you've set.

Oh, you take it slow, sensual, for a bit, and then pick up the pace. Your moans start to get a little louder as you circle faster and press much smaller fingers into your abused cunt. He knows that his one finger could stuff you better than two of yours.

He knows that he could pull those sweet sounds out of you with his tongue flicking your clit, his stubble scraping your inner thighs raw, his fingers curling inside to find the rough patch of skin on your slick walls.

His eyes are shut as he squeezes himself, precum dribbling onto his knuckles, and when he hears you climax— airy, high-pitched moans that's a bloody symphony to his ears— he also comes. Simon spills all over his hand and stomach, seed sticking to his happy trail, and he couldn't give a fuck less. You're the best thing he's heard in a very long time, and he's debating replacing the classical music he usually listens to at work with your voice.

Simon languidly opens his eyes to look at you on his screen, and the fucked-out, blissful look on your face is something that'll be engrained in his head forever.

He watches Johnny step out of the bathroom with a towel around his trim waist and lowers himself onto the bed to kiss you.

Simon shakes his head, and with his clean hand shuts the laptop. It seems he's gotta teach Johnny how to treat his girl right.

--

"How was it, LT?" Johnny gloats.

Sighing, Simon pulls him into his office and takes out his personal laptop. "You tell me, Sergeant."

Johnny looks gutted when the video gets to Simon's favorite part.

"Yer jokin'." He sounds miserable, and Simon would feel bad if Johnny hadn't been a braggart about how he fucked you in the beginning.

"'Fraid not' Johnny. I gotta admit, I didn't take ya to be tha' selfish."

Johnny opens his mouth to defend himself when Simon silences him with a swipe of his gloved hand. "I can help ya, though. Let me teach ya how t'please her so tha' this embarrassment doesn't happen again, yeah?"

Johnny's eyes, colour a mix of sea and sky, shine brightly as he looks up at Simon. "Are ye serious?"

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't."

Simon clenches his jaw painfully tight when Johnny agrees.

Only once Simon stands alone in his office does he let his emotions show. The sound of his fist hitting the desk fills the room, first with one resounding thump, then with another, leaving his knuckles throbbing. He's going to bloody ruin you.

Maybe Johnny will be willing to share you after all of this is said and done.

--

Johnny came to him later that day, letting him know that you had also agreed, but no mask at home. You won't sleep with someone whose face you can't see.

Simon almost took his mask off in exhilaration on the spot.

--

Simon has your legs propped on the edge of the bed as he lapped at your sopping cunt.

"Johnny, ya gotta focus here," he pointed his tongue and circled it around your swollen clit, making your back arch, and Johnny has to tighten his hold on you. He sat behind you, your back to his chest, his arms around you as he looked over your sweaty shoulder to watch Simon eat like a man starved.

"And gently curl your fingers inside, you're looking for..." he paused, the tendons in the middle of his wrist fluttering as he prodded until you were squealing, dripping slick down his hand. "That. You're looking for her sweet spot," he instructed.

Simon keeps rubbing your walls, and every movement has the obscene squelching of your drenched cunt getting noisier. "She's about t'come, I can feel her startin' to squeeze my fingers. Look at her, Johnny. That's the face ya wanna see," and then he turns his attention to you. "Come f'me, pet, let me hear ya."

He encircles your clit with his lips and sucks, and you shatter in Johnny's arms— head thrown back onto his shoulder, trembling violently, loudly dry sobbing at the toe-curling ecstasy that's searing through your veins, stealing the very oxygen in your lungs. Simon doesn't stop thrusting his fingers, prolonging your pleasure, taking every bit of it for himself. It's the only time he'll be selfish.

Your head is clouded with arousal, numb from pleasure, and you can vaguely feel yourself being laid flat on the bed, limp legs hooked over shoulders, feet resting on a strong back— muscles rippling with each movement.

There's a buzzing sound in your ears, and you can see Johnny's lips moving, talking to you, and then he's stepping away. You lazily turn your head to the side, and watch Johnny kneel by the side of the bed, gaze intense as he looks towards where Simon is. Then there's something hot, heavy, and thick pressing into your entrance, splitting you open, sensitive walls stinging at the stretch, and it goes deep, and even deeper still— it seems never-ending until there's a pinch in your lower stomach.

"Atta girl, love." Simon grips your jaw with one hand, and commands, "Eyes on Johnny, sweetheart. Let him see ya and let me hear ya."

And starts to pump his hips. The depths that he's in are devastating, it feels like he's rearranging your insides, which is strange because Johnny's got a monster in his pants as well, but this.

This is different.

You're so sensitive from your prior orgasm that it feels so much more intense, and you can't even try to hold back the keens that are being wrenched from you. Your vision is blurry with tears from overstimulation, but you keep your gaze on Johnny, and he looks painfully aroused. His cheeks are bright pink, his mouth slightly open as he pants, eyes molten as he looks at your cunt swallowing up someone else's cock.

God, he's so pretty.

You're brought out of your musings when Simon places a pillow underneath you, lifting your hips and changing the angle.

The way Simon fills you to the brim with his cock, pushing you to, if not past, your limit is just plain disrespectful.

And then he grabs your legs by the ankles, your thighs touching your chest, folding you in half like a napkin to start thrusting shallowly— the tip of his head gently jabbing into your g-spot.

Your head goes blank, vision white, and your mouth opens into a silent scream, or maybe not so silent, who knows who cares.

Simon thrusts 4 times before that coil in your stomach snaps like a pencil. Your cunt clamps down on him like a vice, unwilling to let him move, but he only grunts and starts to slam his hips into your soft arse— spine rattling from the strength of him. He unrelentingly fucks you through your climax, hips never losing their rhythm.

He's bottoming out now, and you swear you can feel him in your throat, and he starts to pound into your used cunt. When you hiss from how tender you feel, Johnny cups your cheek and leans in to give you a soul-stealing kiss. It's sloppy, you can hear the slick sounds your mouths make, and when you moan into him, Simon's thrusts turn sloppy, choppy. Then he pulls out with a loud snarl to spurt thick, viscous cum directly over your puffy slit, coating your mons with it too— only to push himself back inside, head dripping with his seed, and slowly thrusts until he's overstimulated.

Simon gently lowers your legs back onto the bed, and you groan at the ache when you feel your blood rushing back to them.

"Fuck me," you mumble tiredly, and Johnny chuckles in response.

"Simon already did tha', bonnie." Johnny presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead and looks at Simon.

"I now ken what ye mean, LT. This was a different beast altogether."

You huff out a laugh because beast indeed.

Jesus.

[quinnylouhughesx43]

Chirps

requested

has been edited as of 4/27/24!!

summary: Luke’s long term girlfriend is a beautician. The team chirps him about his unruly curls so he goes to see her at work.

warnings: profanity

The work day had just come to a close when the bells on the door jingled signaling someone had just entered. Out of instinct your head jerked to look towards the door. Thankfully, to be greeted by your sweet boyfriend who usually wore quirky half smile. Only tonight he was your stress stricken looking boyfriend. After swiftly leaning the broom that you had in your hand back up against the wall, you quickly approached him. “Luke? Is everything alright? You look like you did the day of your draft…” You let your voice drift to almost nothing as you reached him. He didn’t make a sound. Only made grabby hands, just like your toddler nephew does, signaling he wanted to hold you. Moments passed where the only sounds were the music still playing over speakers and your alls breathing. “The guys are chirping me about my hair again. Even my own brother is in on it this time.” His mumbling almost inaudible as he’s pressed his face down into your neck. But after two years of dating and three years of friendship prior, you’re a Luke Hughes mumbling specialist. Luke lifted his head and rested his chin atop of your head.

He pulls out of the embrace and starts pacing while he keeps rambling about the absurd claims his teammates have made recently. “They’ve gone as far to point out that my girlfriend is a professional beautician for all sorts of people. Celebrities, athletes, everyday people, and I go around with an unruly mop of whatever.” He stressed the importance of ‘I’ and made a gesture to himself when talking. You grab ahold of him by the waist pulling him back into your arms. Unable to watch him pace any longer. “They go on and on about how they don’t know how you’re not embarrassed of me.” His voice waivers at the end of his statement. “You.. you’re not embarrassed of me are you?” His voice completely cracks, he can’t stay in your arms he has to look at your face. You feel a fragment of your heart break. Pulling out of the embrace completely, he turns away unable to look you in the eyes anymore. You can tell he’s struggling. You know he grew up with kids bullying him for his curls and how unruly they could be. Kids are cruel but they are kids. It’s something that happens growing up. It isn’t something that happens when you’re 20 and surrounded by professional athletes. Or at least it shouldn’t. Reaching out to grab his hand, you slightly tug him at him to come back into your arms. Loosely holding him with one arm, using your other to be able to lift your hand to cup his cheek softly. Running your thumb across his cheek. “Baby I promise you, the last thing I am is embarrassed of you. I am nowhere near being embarrassed. I love you every way that you are. Hair unruly. Hair fixed. I’d love you if you had me shave your head. But please don’t make me do that. I love your curls so much. You’re perfect the way you are.” Luke exhales a breath he was holding since you had pulled him back to you. “There is only a couple things I am and those are, proud of you beyond what words can express, in love with you more than you know, and the luckiest girl there has ever been to be your girlfriend.” The two of you holding eye contact, nothing but pure love shining in your eyes and contentment breaking through Luke’s. He slowly begins to relax. He is still far from letting himself forget and let go what’s happening with the team, but knowing that the most important person to him doesn’t care how he looks and when he looks it.

Taking a moment to contemplate a way to help him further feel better, you rub your thumb slightly across his cheek again, he leans into it sighing. “What if we experiment on styling your curls baby? I have different products for curls. Curly hair is all different, so we can try one and if you don’t like it we can try another?” Luke slowly nodded, feeling even better already. Although he trusts and believes what you just told him about loving him in anyway he looks, he also knows you’re doing this for him. He has always been your soft boy. Luke is apprehensive, always considerate, questions his actions, and wants you to be a part of his decisions. That is until you’re both having your alone time, then he is a completely different person. And well that is a story for another time.. Luke sat down in your chair waiting for you to gather whatever it was that you were going to try first. His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, he knew it wouldn’t be easy to stay awake once your fingers were in his hair.

Only after a few short minutes of working working shampoo through his hair, his eyelids fluttered shut. It was so hard to have to wake him up to move back to the other chair. His groggy face was precious as he teetered over to the seat and plopped down. Moments later you looked in the mirror and caught a glimpse of his face. The sweet boy had fallen asleep again. Finishing up quickly you decided to let him rest instead of waking him to go home, you leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and a ‘I love you Hughes’ before cleaning up your station again.

After cleaning everything up, you locked everything up and decided to wake Luke up. You two really needed to leave. “Lukey, I’m done. Let me drive you home.” Instead he pulled you in his lap and mumbled an I love you. Giggling an I love you back, you patted on his chest and insisted he get up. “Baby please let me sleep” he whimpered. “You can sleep when I get you home. I’ll stay with you if you get up.” You bargained. He opened one eye to look at you. “Do you promise? You’re not going to just leave once you drop me off?” “No lukey, let’s go”

At Luke’s the two of you get changed into pajamas quickly. You are both so exhausted. Luke lays down first, so you have to crawl over him to “your spot”. “Hey (y/n)” Luke whispers. “Yes?” “Thank you for loving me for me and not for being in the NHL or for being rich or for having a boat or for having a-“ you cut him off with a soft kiss. “Luke, we met before you were drafted, before I knew you had a boat, before you had money. None of that matters to me now that I do know. Just like you said. I love you for you. and well your unruly curls are plus.” You say eliciting a groan from Luke. “Not funny. Goodnight baby girl, I love you.” With his last words for the night, you cuddled as close as you could into his side and let your eye lids close. Mentally telling yourself to text Quinn tomorrow to go off on Jack for what he’s done to Luke’s confidence.

**edited and majorly updated 4/27/24 ♡︎

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Work for it

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily

warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself

word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)

A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.

You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.

It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.

What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.

He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.

He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.

“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”

One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.

“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.

Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.

Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.

One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.

“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”

His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.

“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”

“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“

Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.

The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.

It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.

“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-

He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.

“Listen here-“ A pause followed.

“Javi.” He offered.

“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”

He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.

“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.

You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.

He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.

Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:

“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.

He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.

Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.

Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.

Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.

Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.

His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.

And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.

So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.

The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.

You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.

The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.

You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.

His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.

He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.

“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.

He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.

“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”

You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.

He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.

So that you knew what you were missing.

The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.

But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.

So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.

You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.

You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.

To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.

Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.

But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.

And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.

So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.

Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.

There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.

Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.

You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.

You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.

You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.

The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.

Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.

So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.

“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.

“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.

And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.

“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”

His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.

He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.

And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?

But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.

So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.

But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.

He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.

“You should ask her out, Peña.”

Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.

“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.

“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”

And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.

Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.

“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.

His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-

“Javi, you okay?”

Man up, Peña.

He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:

“Go out with me.”

He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.

“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.

“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.

“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”

He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.

“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”

“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.

He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.

“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.

“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.

He owes Steve.

For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.

He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.

When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.

The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.

Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.

You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.

It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.

As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.

Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.

“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.

“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.

You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.

“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”

You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.

You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.

You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.

It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.

The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there

Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.

“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.

“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.

“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.

“You remember that?”

“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”

The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.

“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.

He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.

“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.

The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.

You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.

It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.

“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.

Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.

Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.

When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.

He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.

All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.

And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.

He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.

He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.

His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.

And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?

The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.

This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.

And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.

He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.

“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.

Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.

“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.

“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.

He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.

“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”

“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”

“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.

“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.

Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.

You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.

A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.

He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.

“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.

“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.

“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.

The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.

And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.

“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.

He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.

“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.

He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.

“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.

“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.

“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”

They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.

You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.

The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.

His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.

Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.

You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.

You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.

He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.

You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.

“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.

Game on, Peña.

You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.

Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.

“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.

He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.

“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.

The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.

“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.

The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.

The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.

“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.

He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.

He hopes you understand.

When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.

He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.

He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.

He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.

He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.

He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.

You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.

He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.

“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.

“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.

It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.

“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.

You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.

“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.

“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”

And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.

One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.

He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.

You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.

The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.

His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.

You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.

He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.

He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.

“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.

The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.

When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.

You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.

When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:

“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.

And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.

The third official date comes around three weeks later.

Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.

It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.

Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.

It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.

He feels desired as much as he desires you.

He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.

“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.

It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.

So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.

So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.

What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-

A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.

But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.

The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.

His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.

“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.

You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.

“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.

“Javi-“ You protest weakly.

“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.

He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.

You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.

You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.

His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.

Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.

The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.

Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.

He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.

You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.

The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.

You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.

It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.

You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.

You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.

His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.

TAGS: @harriedandharassed

[chrysanthemumgames]

Chapter Ten and the Epilogue are out!

Hey everyone!

This announcement is basically just what it says on the tin. You can now play the last part of the game. Here's the link if you don't have it handy.

I don't think there are any particular content warnings for this one other than Zeus existing, but my brain is kind of scrambled eggs right now, so if I've forgotten something, please let me know.

I feel like I should have some thoughts here about actually being finished with the game, but either because of the brain-eggs thing or because I still have a lot of editing to do, it's hard to think of myself as done.

Just a few things I've been getting questions about clarified in one place:

FoA's first draft will remain where it is, as it is, complete and free, until I submit the edited version for publication. I estimate this will be about three months, (so until March 1, 2024), but can't say that for sure.

The second draft will bring about substantive changes both from a game design standpoint (various systems) and a character standpoint (some pacing things are going to change, particularly with the romances that probably should be a little bit faster paced than they are. A smidge.)

I may or may not be doing a closed beta test for the second draft. That's not me being coy, that's me genuinely not knowing if I will.

There will be one sequel. I will begin working on it immediately after FoA is submitted for publication.

If you want to follow the editing process, I will probably be summarizing my progress monthly here, but I will be going into much more detail and previewing the edits on my Patreon. No pressure ever; that's just an option if you'd like to see more or support me as I go.

Thank you, everyone, for your support, critiques, and suggestions. They've already made FoA a much better game than it would have been without you, and I'm looking forward to getting the chance to take more of them on board as I move through this next part of things.

I hope you enjoy.