#mistakes to avoid when asking for a raise

[selunefae]

i really love your fanfics, could you pleeaseee make more spicy sylus???

Promise you'll be a good girl? (+18) - Sylus (Love and Deepspace)

masterlist | rules

rating: +18, MDNI

word count: 1,651

tags: sylus (lads) x reader, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader

cw: PwP, shameless smut, use of toys, non-penetratrive toys, PinV sex, use of pet names (kitten), praise kink, restraints, light bondage, dom/sub, dom!sylus, aftercare, unprotected, creampie

notes: I didn't know what to write exactly, and then I remembered the whole discussion of what type of dom Sylus is. I personally think Sylus is a soft dom/pleasure dom, but if he *had* to punish you, I think this is the type of discipline he'd do. But, I'm not main Sylus, so sorry if he's a little bit OOC. (English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes)

Sylus isn’t exactly a man of discipline.

He likes to spoil you – loves it. He buys you anything you want, takes you to dinners that require reservations weeks in advance, plans extravagant vacations in the most expensive and exclusive resorts… He’s a man who has everything, and he lives to share it with you.

Besides, why would he want to?

He enjoys it when you act like a brat. He likes your whining, your pouty little moods, the way you roll your eyes at him when you don’t get your way. He likes it when you talk back, when you push his buttons just enough to see what he’ll do.

But sometimes –

Sometimes you take it too far.

And that’s how you end up like this: completely naked, legs spread and lifted high, ankles tied to your wrists, your arms restrained in cuffs that lock you in place against the bedposts, unable to move.

It’s not that Sylus wants to make you suffer. On the contrary, he much prefers watching you writhe from pleasure. But every now and then, when you push him too far, he has no choice but to remind you who’s in charge.

At first, he stays silent. Just walks around the room like he has all the time in the world, sleeves rolled up, eyes dragging over your bound body, admiring how you squirm and try to move in futile attempts. You’ve only been there for five minutes, but your need for release makes it feel like fifty. Your core pulses with arousal, and your begging doesn’t seem to do anything to him.

He turns around.

In his hand, he has your favourite toy. Small, sleek, and black. The one you use when he’s not around. He knows it, after all, he’s the one who bought it for you. Your breath catches as he holds it up, rolls it between his fingers like he’s inspecting a delicate piece of jewelry. Then his eyes cut to yours. 

“I know how much you like this one.”

You swallow hard, hips instinctively rolling up into the air, but he restraints don’t let you go anywhere. The vibrator hums to life in his hand – a quiet, familiar buzz that instantly makes your thighs twitch. He leans down slowly, places a hand on your thigh to still you, and brings the toy close. Close enough that you can feel the vibrations in the air.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asks, his usual smirk already on his face.

You nod, wide-eyed, and lips parted. You feel the tears forming in your eyes already.

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“You promise ,” he repeats, dragging the tip of the vibrator just barely across your inner thigh, avoiding where you need him most on purpose. “That also includes not interrupting important meetings, right?”

Your face burns, but you still nod eagerly. “Yes, yes, yes. I promise.”

He presses the vibrator over your clit. Your entire body jolts. A high, uncontrollable cry leaves your throat as the pressure finally, finally lands where you’ve needed it. Your hips buck, but he pins you down with one strong hand on your pelvis, keeping you grounded.

“Sylus… I need more… Please, fuck me.”

He laughs and turns up the speed. The toy buzzes harder against your clit, vibrating in small circles that make your legs shake in their bindings. Your head falls back, a stream of moans pouring from your lips. 

“First, you’re going to come with this.”

His hand moves, guiding the vibrator down until it slides over your entrance. He doesn't thrust it in, though. He circles it the same way he was doing with your clit. Then, he drags it back up and starts the process over again. The pressure builds fast, and every time you start to feel you’re getting closer, he pulls back just enough to make you beg. His free hand slides up your body, warm palm cupping your breast. He leans down, sucking your nipple into his mouth and biting, licking the pain away right after.

He might call this a punishment, but there’s no mistaking the way he’s enjoying it. And the worst part is…

So are you.

"You're doing so good, kitten."

Your thighs tremble, wrists straining against the cuffs, and he growls when you whimper his name again. He turns the speed up to max, and that’s all you need to finally reach your climax. You cry out, arching your back and nailing your palms from the sudden wave of pleasure. He doesn’t stop, keeping the toy in place as you fall apart beneath him. 

You collapse back into the mattress, body heaving, skin damp, and eyes glassy. You think maybe that’s it. That he’ll untie you now and press soft kisses to your skin and run a bath like he always does. But he clicks the vibrator off and puts it aside on the nightstand. And before you even realize it, he’s above you again. His pants are gone, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose from his shoulders. One of his hands rests on your thigh, squeezing gently and rubbing circles to help you relax. You open your eyes just in time to see him.

He’s impossibly hard.

His cock is flushed and heavy, veins prominent, and the head slick with precum. And you’re the one who caused it. He’s so hard just for watching you come.

Even though you just finished, heat blooms between your legs again.

“Are you ready?” He asks, voice deep and serious.

You respond with barely a whisper.

He strokes himself a few times before lining up at your entrance. You thought being tied like this might make it uncomfortable, but it turns out, it’s completely the opposite. The moment the tip of his cock presses into your cunt – you’ve never felt so food before. Like every inch of you is open and exposed and raw in the best possible way. Your mouth falls open as he pushes deeper. The slick of your previous orgasm makes it easy for him to enter, but you still feel a certain stretch from the size of him.

He groans above you, “ fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your walls pulse around him as he finally bottoms out, hips flush against yours. You can feel every vein, every inch, every pulse. He stays still for a moment, for you to get used to his size and for him to savour a little more of your warm and tight walls. Then, without warning, he pulls back and thrusts in, hard. You scream. His pace picks up quickly, every thrust designed to hit that perfect spot inside you. His hands grip your hips gently, in contrast of how hard he’s fucking you. 

Your eyes roll back.

The overstimulation from your previous climax makes everything brighter and more intense, like your nerves are picking up every minuscule detail. Every drag of him against your walls sends sparks up your spine.

He leans over you, catching your mouth in a kiss. His tongue presses inside your mouth, matching the rhythm og his thrusts. You moan into him, body trembling, bound and unable to move except to take what he gives you. It turns you on even more – how composed he still is, even with his cock buried deep in your tight cunt. One of his hands cups your face for a moment before trailing lower, until it settles where you’re most sensitive. His thumb finds your clit, slick and swollen, and he starts rubbing tight, rough circles. Your entire body jerks, thighs twitching under the weight of his body, and your moans break into ragged whimpers. It’s all too much. The way he’s kissing you, the way his cock slams into you, the way his thumb keeps pressure on your clit without mercy –

You can feel him get closer too.

His thrusts grow shallower and sloppier. His pace falters, the careful control he kept up until now starting to slip

“Fuck–” he hisses against your jaw, “you’re gonna make me–”

You nod wildly, back arching off the mattress and feet curling. “Yesyesyesyesyes. Pleasepleaseplease– Come inside of me–”

He pounds into you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and ove, thumb never stopping its motion. 

You both break at the same time.

With a strangled growl, he drives into you one final time, deep and hard, his whole body tensing above you. Your cunt spasms around him, milking his cock while you ride the high together. He groans your name against your neck, and you feel him twitch inside you, finally coming.

He lowers himself onto you slowly, careful not to collapse all at once. His arms cage you, muscles shaking as he breathes through the last waves of release. His softening cock slips free. You feel the sticky, warm liquid pushing out of you, and it sends you shivers. Sylus pulls back and sits up, hands moving to your wrists to unbind you. He works fast but gently, undoing the cuffs with practiced ease. His fingers caress the marks left behind, thumbs brushing circles into your sore skin as he massages each wrist and then your ankles in turn.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response, but you already feel the heaviness in your eyelids.

He disappears for a moment, and you hear the distant sound of a tap running. He returns with a damp towel, and he passes it between your legs and thighs to clean you up. You sigh into the mattress, body floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion. When he’s done, he drapes a blanket over your naked form and settles beside you, running his hand slowly up and down your back and pulling you closer.

You fall asleep with the feeling of his lips on your shoulder.

[mentorshelly]

Mistakes to Avoid When Negotiating Your Salary

Negotiating your salary can feel like walking a tightrope—especially if you’re just starting out, switching industries, or returning to the workforce after a break. But here’s the truth: not negotiating at all is one of the biggest career missteps you can make. Whether you’re a Gen Zer landing your first job or a seasoned professional ready to level up, knowing what not to do in a salary…

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice part 2

part 1!

pairings! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you cant stop thinking about the night you lost your virginity to jj…. even though you have a boyfriend

warnings! 18+ smut. cheating. fingering. oral sex (m. recieving) pnv sex. unprotected sex. not proof read.

it had been two months since you lost your virginity to jj and almost a month and a half since you started officially dating your new boyfriend.

he was nice. he took you out to eat once a week, he bought you small gifts, he complimented you and you never argued. but the sex was just…bad. it was always over way too quickly and he never payed any attention to your body or what you wanted. you figured he was just one of those boys who was too scared to go down on a girl, which was fine, but it probably wouldn’t suit you in the long run.

you hadn’t been hanging around your friends very often, usually turning them down to go out with your boyfriend and jj was getting increasingly frustrated with this.

but every time you were around your friends, jj in particular, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. when you talked to him, all you thought about was the way he called you baby when he came on your stomach and the way he made you cum on his face. you felt so completely guilty for these thoughts, but nothing would stop them. you figured the best plan of action was to avoid him. not entirely, but just try not to be around him alone.

but, you did end up alone with jj by mistake one afternoon.

you had just finished surfing with kie as the swell had come in that day. you both planned to stay at the beach a little longer, but you were hungry and didn’t have any food. kie decided to go pick up something from the heyward’s shop and you went back to the chateau to grab a six pack, only to find jj working on his bike, his shirt off and his shorts dirty, probably from engine oil.

you didn’t say anything as you walked up the steps to the porch, but jj noticed you and called out.

“hey, y/n!” he yelled, wiping his hands off on a towel and throwing it on his bike. “thought you were gonna stay at the shore until later?”

you were in your damp bikini top and bottoms and a pair of sandals. you turned around at the sound of his voice and met his gaze.

“yeah..” you said. awkwardly. “i am, i was just grabbing some beers.” you turn back around, pulling open the screen door and stepping inside. once you’re in the kitchen with the refrigerator door cracked, you hear jj come into the château after you.

“what’s going on with you?” he asks, standing in the living room. you shut the refrigerator and look over at him with furrowed brows.

“what do you mean?” you question, although you knew exactly what he meant. you didn’t expect the confrontation to happen now of all times.

“don’t act like you don’t know.” he crosses his arms over his chest. “you’ve been weird around me ever since we..”

you didn’t want to hear him say it.

“jj, i’ve just been hanging around my boyfriend a lot,” you try to defend yourself, hoping he’ll stop questioning you. “i’m sorry i haven’t been talking to you. ‘been busy.”

he nods, biting his lip and looking down at the floor.

“do you regret it?” he asks, looking back up at you.

“what?” you shake your head. “no, i just-“

“you promised you wouldn’t make things weird between us and now you barely even talk to me.” jj said. “you sure i didn’t do something wrong?”

“no jj!” your voice raised slightly. “i-“ you cut yourself off, not knowing what to say. “it’s just that every time i try and talk to you, i think about what we did.” you blurt out, almost making it sound like you both murdered someone and hid the body. you made it sound like a crime, and it pogue rules, it technically was. “i thought that avoiding you was gonna take my mind off it until i got over it.”

he walks closer to the kitchen, tossing his hat somewhere on the counter.

“so you do regret it?” he questions, leaning against the counter and looking straight at you.

you shake your head no.

“i don’t, but it’s kind of wrong of me to think about you while my boyfriend’s fucking me.”

you realized what you said after it had already left your mouth and your eyes widened.

“what’d you say?” he asks, cocking his head a little at your admission, a barely visible smile playing on his lips.

“uh-“

you quickly turn around to open the fridge again, looking for some beers to take and get the hell up out of there.

“no, say it again.” jj pulls your arm, twisting you back around to face him so that your bodies were dangerously close together. your face flushed with embarrassment and your heart was thumping out of your chest.

“jj,” you say, shrugging off his touch. “i really gotta go back to the shore.” you say, but you weren’t moving. jj knew that wasn’t what you really wanted.

“i’m not stopping you.” he pulled back from you and leaned against the counter once again, showing that you had free will to leave, but you still didn’t budge. your feet were glued in place.

you wanted to kiss him so bad and get that ridiculous smile off his lips, but the thought of your boyfriend who did little to please you was the only thing that was keeping you from doing it. you bit the inside of your cheek, nervously. the tension between you two was going to make your head explode.

“he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he?”

his words were your final straw.

you grabbed both sides of his face and instantly connected you lips with his. he kissed you back without a second thought, wrapping his arms around your waist. he backed you into the refrigerator as his lips moved perfectly with yours.

his fingers trailed down your hips and to your clothed core. he pulled away from the kiss to look at you, silently asking for permission for him to touch you, and you gave it.

still having you against the refrigerator’s surface, he skillfully moved your bikini bottoms to the side as two of his fingers sunk into your entrance. you were embarrassingly soaked already. you fight back a moan as he pulled out of you, just to slide right back in, hitting the spot he knew you needed.

“all this and i’ve barely even touched you?” he mocked, taking his fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. he looked you in the eyes as he sucked your slickness from his fingers. your lips were parted as you watched, desperately needing his hands on you again.

he then picked you up, his hands hooked under your thighs. you giggled as he carried you to the bedroom, kicking the door closed.

he gently placed you on the bed and reconnected his lips with yours, his tongue swiping yours. you reached to work on his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it off while never breaking the kiss. you slid his shorts down, his boxers barely hiding his desperation for you.

you palm him through the fabric, eliciting a groan from him against your lips that you needed to hear more of.

you sunk to your knees in front of him, yanking his boxers down and allowing his painfully hard cock to spring free. you took him in your hand, pumping a few times before your tongue poked through your lips to lick a long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip.

he gently grabbed your hair, trying to pull you away, but you licked him again, which loosened his grip.

“you don’t have to-“ his eyes rolled back as you finally took him all in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked his cock. your hands were placed on his knees. the moan you heard from him encouraged you to keep going, although his tip was hitting the back of your throat and you were trying hard not to gag. “fuck- baby, you don’t have to do this.”

you pull him from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips with his tip.

“i want to.” you say before taking him in your mouth again. he tries to keep his eyes locked with yours, but his head falls back in pleasure, his fingers lacing into your hair.

you only knew how to do this because your boyfriend showed you. you had to keep your eyes closed the whole time so you could pretend it was jj.

his breathing was getting heavier with each rise and fall of his chest as soft moans and strings of curses fell from his lips. he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock farther into your mouth. there were tears brimming your eyes as you tried to focus on pleasuring him.

“fuck- m’not gonna last much longer like this.” he said.

you kept going, desperately wanting to bring him over the edge, but he pulled your hair back, taking you off of him.

“gotta stop you, princess.” he grabbed your hands and helped you up from your knees. you sat on the bed, pouting. he stood over you, brushing your hair out of your face and noticing your change of attitude. “didn’t wanna cum like that.”

as much as you wished you could make him cum by sucking him off, you couldn’t complain now that he was giving you attention.

his hands guided themselves to your waist, where he then told you to turn around so you were now on your hands and knees, your ass facing him. he was still standing as he held your hips from the edge of the bed. you felt his tip at your entrance.

“this okay?” he asked.

you give him a yes, and then you feel him slowly enter you. it felt so much different than when he had been on top of you before. there was a slight pain due to how much deeper he could push into you from this angle, but the pain melted into pleasure within seconds.

he pulled out just to drive himself back into you. his pace was slow until you adjusted to the position, and then he steadily began going faster. his fingers dug into the sides of your ass, pulling you into him with every thrust.

as he went harder, you gripped the sheets and stuffed your face into the mattress under you, trying to keep yourself quiet, but you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips.

“fuck-“ jj cursed under his breath, his grip on you getting even harder. “feel so good, can’t get enough of this pussy”

his words brought you closer and his pace increased. you could feel him getting tenser, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“could have you like this every day if i could- shit.”

you were almost over the edge, the knot in your stomach threatening to undo.

“fuck- m’gonna cum princess” he moaned.

his last thrusts were deep and slow and they led you into perfect ecstasy. you came undone around his cock, moaning into the sheets right in time for him to pull out and finish on your back- your name leaving his mouth with curses and moans.

your body was limp when he cleaned your back with a towel, still in a haze from your orgasm.

“you okay?” he asked, running a hand down the middle of your back, feeling the ridges of your spine.

you nodded and sat up, grabbing your bikini from the floor and slipping it back on.

“kie is gonna kill me.” you say, slipping your sandals on your feet. “she’s not gonna believe any excuse i try to give her.”

“i’ll drive you down there.” jj offered. “i mean- are your legs alright to walk all the way to the shore or-“

you threw his shirt at his face and scoffed at him.

you had agreed to let him drive you to the beach while you fixed your hair in the visor mirror, trying to make yourself look presentable. although the whole way there you could only think about the words he said while he fucked you. you had no idea if he meant it or if it was just a thing he said in the moment. and this definitely wasn’t going to help save your thoughts about your boyfriend.

a/n: don’t know if i will write a part 3 to this, but requests are open for any jj or rafe fic!

tag list! (comment or message to be added or removed!)

@ifilwtmfc @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @xcallmetaniax @moondustedlily @x-0-madi-0-x @tumb1rgir1z

[luvth0t]

I’VE MISSED YOU ━ L.N

in which you’re unable to stay away from lando like you’d intended after his win in monaco

warnings; unprotected sex, reader needs to stand up but whatever, public sex lowkey, oral m receiving, plenty of praise, degradation like once, hair pulling, choking, thigh riding, rough smut i guess i think that’s it ! lando could be toxic he could be genuine we don’t know ! unedited rn xox

you swore you’d stay away.

you were beyond settling, unable to pretend to be satisfied with what lando could offer these days.

it wasn’t your fault you weren’t good at keeping your word.

“where are you going?” lando’s voice chimed innocently from where he was sprawled on his bed, watching as you stumbled around the room.

the sheets draped over his lower half did little to offer modesty, tanned and toned abdomen on display decorated in red lines left by your nails only moments ago.

you ignored his words as you shrugged your underwear up your wobbly legs ━ eyes scanning the room in search of all your clothing, lando not having been precise in discarding them across the floor.

“we are well pass this,” the brit practically scoffed, jokingly speaking; not understanding why you’d been so quick to scurry off. soft touches and you cuddled up to his chest was what he was used too.

“this was a mistake.” you huffed, not offering him a glance. sounding annoyed, because you were. with yourself.

he’d laughed. laughed. you envied how unbothered he could be, rolling your eyes as you found your skirt, shimmying it up your legs as lando stood and tugged his boxers on.

“ouch,” he mused; hand resting over his heart as if your words had stung.

he didn’t believe them, so they wouldn’t effect him.

“i told you this isn’t happening again,” you offered an explanation, not that he asked for one; lips pursed and you could cringe at how unconvincing you sounded.

he assumed that had been a lie when you said that all those weeks ago. and then presumed he was correct considering you ended up back here in his sheets tonight.

“yet here you are,” lando chuckled; and your self annoyance was beginning to spread with his inability to realise you were trying to be serious.

“it’s not happening again.” you finally looked at him, and lando would be worried with how stern you looked if he actually believed you.

but he didn’t. maybe because you were the one who seeked him out tonight, or maybe because he didn’t want to believe you. regardless; such conversation was one he’d like to avoid.

you huffed when you couldn’t find your shirt, lando watching in slight amusement ━ not complaining of the sight, red and purple marks scattering your skin thanks to himself.

“have i lost my touch?” lando joked; well aware that wasn’t the case. not when you’d just cum around his fingers and cock three times.

you took a short breath, standing straight and stopping in your movements to face him.

“i’m no longer fine with just being a fuck of convenience,” you told him honestly, shoulders shrugging and only then did you capture his face falter momentarily.

eyebrows pinching together, lips tugging into a small frown which left as quick as it came.

“that’s what you think this is?” his question was somewhat accusing, but he sounded so laid back it wouldn’t make sense for it to be as such.

he ducked down and swiped your shirt off the floor; but he refrained from offering it to you.

you didn’t want to answer his question, despite it being an obvious answer. not needing it rubbed in that your wants didn’t align. but when you went to grab the material from his hand, he was quick to draw it back; eyebrows raising in question. silently telling you to answer him.

“how else would you describe it?” you challenged; head tilting aside as you refrained from rolling your eyes.

he faltered once more; this wasn’t what he signed up for. he avoided this last time, when you had ‘ended’ this arrangement that had been ongoing for months now.

“fun.” lando shrugged, and when you let out a dry laugh he wanted to wince, groaning as he shook his head. “you know what i mean,” he attempted to follow up.

he didn’t know what to call it, but he knew convenience wasn’t the right word. you were much more than just convenient.

“i know what to expect from you lando,” you hummed; successful in grabbing your shirt from his hand this time; pulling it over your head. “i’m not gonna ask for more. but this isn’t enough for me anymore,” you shrugged.

your explanation was fair, he couldn’t complain. couldn’t throw it back in your face, tell you he already warned you he didn’t want anything serious. make it your problem. or tell you that you were wrong, your expectations were wrong.

because they weren’t wrong.

this was his problem, because you made sense. you were doing what was right by you. so why did it make him feel like shit? he should be grateful you weren’t putting him in an awkward spot he’d been in too many times, forced to let others down.

“thanks for the fun night,” you’d smiled; and he had to refrain from scoffing in disbelief. it being his turn to struggle in mustering a smile.

you knew that wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, but you had hoped it’d be the last time you were so close to the driver. the last time you melted in his touch and came undone from a mere few whispers and lingering touches.

you’d hoped that’d be the case, and it seemed more and more likely as the months went past.

he knew you were in monaco, he always knew which races you were attending; despite you never telling him. it was almost a game, how you would somehow end up at his hotel or bed room despite no plans to do so.

he’d barely crossed your mind, it wasn’t like it was hard to avoid a driver. hot property, even more so here in monaco. there were stars and chaos every where you turned in the paddock, security crowded around anyone with some sort of status; it was impossible to stumble across the mclaren driver.

ignoring his presence was a lot harder however when he was stood on the top step of the podium, as if the posters of his face and name everywhere wasn’t enough.

suddenly his face was plastered everywhere at once, and only his. name dropping from everyone’s lips.

you’d like to think there was no bad blood; but he was hard to resist and you almost hated him for it. suddenly he was everywhere ━ yet not in reach.

a good thing.

so, you were optimistic. if getting near him was hard before, it’d be ten times harder now. man of the moment; you felt as if you would be in the clear.

so how the fuck did you manage to be only five people back in the line for the exclusive monaco club, VIP passes still hung around your necks, when lando arrived.

ushered through the front doors, no need to pay or wait like every other eager party go hoping their name had made it to the list, cash at the ready to pay their way in.

he shouldn’t have spotted you, not with the hectic lights and people cheering him on and attempting to grab his attention.

but he did, of course he did.

“hey, hey. they’re with me,” lando stopped in his tracks; ushering you and your friend out of line towards him ━ your face hardening as he smirked cockily towards you.

you wanted to stay where you were. tell him you would wait and get in yourself. pride too strong to spare yourself 10 minutes and a couple hundred dollars.

your best friend however was not passing up an opportunity to get in for free, nor cause a scene as people quickly made way for you. so you couldn’t put up much of a fight as you stepped out of line and followed the driver and a few others inside.

it almost felt shameful, as if you were just some pretty girl he’d picked out to entertain himself with. but you only viewed it that way because you feared that had been true in the past.

“would you believe me if i said this is almost the highlight of the day?” lando spoke to you with a wide grin, head ducked down towards you to ensure you heard him over the music growing in volume as you entered the venue.

you’d scoffed, rolled your eyes even; it appeared opting to be cold was the easiest option. friendliness never lasted with you two; being friendly became flirty. flirting lead to touching and suddenly you’d be trapped beneath the nearest surface and his hot body.

“no.” your answer was short, ‘forgetting’ to mumble the obvious, a congratulations. you’d feel bad if he wasn’t getting it from every angle however.

his grin only widened however, bemused at your words. you weren’t surprised, you doubted anything would wipe the smile of his face right now.

a breath of relief escaped you when someone grabbed at his arm and tugged him along, turning his attention elsewhere as you turned to your friend.

drinks were a need.

in hindsight opting to stay in the secluded area provided for the mclaren driver was probably a bad idea; but it was so crowded you stood by your earlier thoughts.

he’d be out of reach. everyone in here was striving for his attention, it wouldn’t be hard to avoid it.

the free drinks and friendly faces proved as enough of a distraction; music and alcohol flowing through your veins, so much so you’d join in on the cheers every-time someone toasted to the driver, or his name popped up on a board with bottles of champagne arriving.

an arm wrapping around your waist should’ve been alarming, but shamefully you recognised the bracelets and touch immediately; body naturally welcoming such action instead of pulling away.

“you haven’t congratulated me.” his voice was low and in your ear, accent thick and you had to take a sharp breath. it was stupid, ridiculous the way such an action could have your mind growing hazy.

“haven’t i?” you posed the question innocently, bringing your drink to your lips as if it would offer you refuge from the temptation behind you.

you’d lost your friend ages ago, and suddenly you couldn’t recognise many people around you. or maybe you didn’t make an effort to, because the company you quietly craved was the man behind you.

“nope,” he popped the ‘p,’ lips lingering next to your ear momentarily before he pulled away to also bring his drink to his lips, you taking the moment to turn around and face him. “not very nice you know?”

you’d rolled your eyes again, a small laugh escaping you. wanting to point out the fact that everyone was dropping to their knees to ring his praise. he didn’t need it from you.

did it make your heart skip a beat that he wanted it though? of course it did, despite your brain screaming that it shouldn’t. it was too easy to cling onto anything this man did.

“well done,” you spoke, voice laced with sarcasm despite their being truth to your words. “i’m so, so, so proud of you.”

he’d chuckled, face lighting up in amusement once more; a vast contrast to every other conversation he’d had tonight. the very reason he’d sought you out.

he thought it spoke for something, the fact his mind had been consumed with so many thoughts of you despite the win he’d just accomplished.

“thank you.” he grinned, and it was as if on queue he was being tugged away once more; and suddenly, you could breath again.

you took the time to grab some much needed air, a balcony not too far. it was a bit of a blur, the next hour or so.

ending up back on the dance floor, familiar faces all around, drinks continuously flowing ━ reuniting with your friend who’s lipstick was now smudged and hair slightly tangled, your hands quick to fix it up with small giggles.

you were loosening up, so much so when lando next appeared with two drinks in hand and daring eyes you couldn’t help but accept.

you were dying by your own hand, you should politely decline and slip back into the crowd. but he was always so hard to ignore, especially in a black button up and messy curls.

you’d cheers, both raising your glasses to your lips; somehow both still relatively sober in comparison to those around you.

lando had been doing too much talking to get much alcohol in him, also pacing himself ━ in no way would he be crashing out early.

you knew your limits, you too didn’t want the night to end prematurely.

“you’re not mad at me are you?” lando’s question had to be shouted for you to hear, your eyes narrowing at such as you shook your head.

you were somewhat surprised at his efforts, his ability to seek you out in the crowd that was here for him. all for what? to ask you that question?

“why would i be mad at you?” you deflected. because you knew he had a point.

you weren’t mad at him, obviously. he hadn’t done anything; you’d been the one to… get attached. but you were quite clearly being distant and cold; and you didn’t feel like explaining why.

he shrugged his shoulders, face scrunching up as if he was thinking momentarily, giving you time to admire how pretty he looked. how his large hand wrapped around the glass, the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up.

“you’re avoiding me.” he quirked a brow, and you were rolling your eyes once more, like a broken record. the grin on his face showed he didn’t care to sound desperate; that he was well aware why you were acting in such way.

he remembered the last conversation between the pair of you. how you swore off the two of you. much to his dismay.

“i’m not,” you huffed. “i’m keeping friendly distance,” you corrected playfully, eyebrows raising as he nodded unconvincingly ━ lips parting in fake shock.

it was pathetic, you already could feel it. your self restraint slipping away. suddenly posing yourself the question, would it be that bad if you entertained yourself with the idea of him just one more time?

“right,” lando practically sung, a laugh following suit as he downed the rest of his drink. “there’s no fun in that.”

you’d just shrugged at his words, no answer for him because you agreed. this wasn’t fun, it was hard. it would be so much easier to let yourself take the usual reckless route.

so you chose easy, and when someone appeared to place a drink in lando’s hand and capture a few minutes of his attention, you allowed the driver to throw his arm over your shoulders; tugging you closer to his side. he didn’t want you slipping away into the crowd again.

you let yourself stay in his grasp, mindlessly swaying to the music and awaiting for him to finish talking.

you should’ve taken that time to realise this was what you were meant to avoid, to duck out from his hold and busy yourself once more.

but instead you found yourself leaning into his side; admiring the way his fingertips danced on your collarbone ━ oblivious to prying eyes and jealous gazes from those who were hoping to be in your place.

his cologne was intoxicating, his touch was familiar and inviting; and the way he was keeping you close and still paying you attention while everyone tried to get their two cents in with the driver had your stomach flipping.

you hadn’t realised their was a gap in the constant conversation and on flow of people, not till lando’s lips were back next to your ear, a delicate kiss being placed to your neck.

“i’ve missed you,” he’d whispered; your head tilting aside invitingly ━ such contrast to your initial and intended behaviour. but the moment his lips met your skin, all rational plans were out the door.

“good.” you replied, knowing to not grow excited by such confession. not needing to say the words back because he already knew you missed him. you were always missing him.

another kiss was pressed to your skin, and another.

“i mean it.” lando mumbled; your eyes fluttering shut briefly at the feeling of his lips still peppering your skin, the heat spreading to your face.

you were glad you’d made your mind up, having come to the conclusion that one more night with him couldn’t be that bad. thought process definitely influenced by your sexual desires rather than rationality. but it meant you weren’t dwelling on his words and picking them apart, instead focused of the way his hand was now resting on the side of your leg.

“is there a bathroom near?” your question was all lando needed to hear, the pair of you not so subtle as you weaved through the crowd.

his lips were on yours the moment you were in the bathroom, your back being pushed against the door to shut it ━ his fingers finding the lock and the moment he heard it click his hands were on you.

it was messy, and rushed; adrenaline pumping between the pair of you much like the muffled music seeping through the door.

your hands were pawing at each other, his at your waist, then your hips, then your legs; touching what he could of you over the silk dress,

your hands were in his hair, then running down his chest; attempting to pull him closer despite his body pressed against yours.

his hands moved to grab yours, before lifting them up and over your head; pinning them to the door as his lips moved to your jaw, then to your neck.

“lando,” you breathed in need; eyes shutting as you attempted to push forward off the door, wanting to touch him in anyway. you were no match for his strength however.

he tsked quietly, kissing at your skin with such intent it had you whimpering.

“what do you want?” his question was almost a taunt, knee pushing between your thighs because he knew exactly what to do to have you squirming.

you felt helpless, needy and desperate. but not one bit regretful or ashamed you found yourself here again.

“you, anything,” you breathed; hips rutting against his leg slightly; the action not unnoticed as a cocky smirk grew on his lips.

your eyes poured into his, watching as he bathed the sight of you in ━ flustered and worked up already.

“yeah?” he hummed, releasing your hands now so he could cup your cheek; making it hard for you to nod but you attempted to regardless.

“want you to fuck me,” you elaborated; taking the chance to touch him, hand going straight to the buldge in his jeans which had him hissing.

you two would often take your time. lando liked to have you spread open for him, a few orgasms deep thanks to his fingers or tongue first before fucking you. take his time in kissing every inch of your body, exploring your mouth; kissing you and touching you all he could.

but both of you had a sense of urgency tonight. keen to feel him inside you, aware their was plenty of people awaiting the driver; that the night had barely begun in the grand scheme of things.

the fact you’d avoided him for so long, like promised but god it’d been too long. he would struggle to draw this out the way he wanted to.

“barely touched you baby,” he pointed out with a smirk; as if he was not feeling the same need you were.

you would���ve paid more attention to the way your stomach flipped at the casual drop of the nickname, but his actions captured your attention before you could dwell.

it was a relief as he moved you to the sink counter, pressing on your back to bend you over the surface; your hands finding a grip on the counter as your eyes settled on him in the mirror. a position you’d only be in for him.

spreading your legs was easy as you watched him, flipping the skirt of your dress up and merely pushing your panties aside; fingers swiping through your wetness, entering you once then twice.

“gotta make sure this isn’t a mistake hm?” lando’s question was a taunt, quoting you, hands leaving your figure as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock, leaving you to whimper and watch in the mirror.

he didn’t make the move to touch you, prolonging your torture; hips swaying slightly as you dwelled on his words.

his eyes were pouring into yours through the mirror, your cheeks heated. his reminder that you had once claimed you didn’t want this anymore had you speechless, not suddenly rational.

“what changed your mind?” his hands moved to squeeze your ass, cock pressing against your entrance; leaving you with nothing but anticipation and emptiness. “cause i won? good enough for you now?”

you would’ve rolled your eyes if you weren’t in such a compromising position, his wicked grin enough to show his words were simply throw away comments, not an insight into his actual assumptions.

“lando please,” you whined; hips attempting to push back onto him but his hands on your ass held you in place; chest rising at the sight of you so needy for him. a sight he’d never get sick of.

“your words not mine baby,” he reminded you; tongue flicking over his bottom lip as he took in the sight of you momentarily, your pants and inability to keep still due to your need for him always something he loved to be witness too.

he was usually gentle with you at first, would warm you up; start off slow and build up to the pace that would have tears streaming down your pretty face. but he was eager tonight, adrenaline still pumping through his veins, and by the way you were looking at him in the mirror told him you felt the same.

“gotta fuck some sense into you yeah?” his question was matched with his hand tangling in your hair, grasping a few strands before tugging you up harshly; your back meeting his chest and a gasp escaping you, a whimper following. “yeah?” he repeated when you failed to answer.

you tried to nod quickly, hips pushing back once more to little success with the position he had you in.

his lips were next to your ear now, and the chuckle he let out had your thighs attempting to squeeze together.

“please,” you whimpered; desperation growing pathetically quickly. it was almost pathetic, how he could shorten your vocabulary to pleas and curses in such little time.

lando would like to say he could do this all night, but that would be a lie. he groaned audibly at your whimper; chest now pushed forward towards the mirror beautifully, still with a perfect view of your face as well.

he gave you no warning as he slid inside of you, your jaw going slack as he bottomed out; letting go of your hair and pushing your back down once more.

your hands flied to the counter again, moaning at the stretch as he groaned at the way your walls hugged him tightly.

he didn’t give you the usual time to adjust, moving immediately and thrusting deeply inside of you, hands using your hips to meet his movements.

“swear you’re fucking made for me,” lando groaned as his head fell back, pounding into your tight cunt repetitively, your moans escaping each time as your face contorted in pleasure.

it was too good, you weren’t sure how you could ever actually give this up.

you attempted to keep your moans hushed, although with the volume of the music you weren’t at much risk of being heard; which was lucky. because you were struggling to keep quiet; failing actually.

your eyes rolled back when lando didn’t fail to hit that spot inside of you repetitively, hands still gripping your hips tightly.

his grunts and groans were addictive, so much so you wanted to open your eyes and bask in the sight of him; but the pleasure was too much to do so.

lando however wouldn’t settle for such, hand tangling in your hair once more, tugging once and pulling your head up slightly; clear intentions to his actions.

“eyes on me pretty girl,” he breathed regardless, and you did as he said; being met with his ones through the mirror; lazy smile gracing his features as you whimpered and gripped the counter tightly.

you’d never expect to get off so quickly from pure penetration, but you were. suppose it was made easier with the sight of him and his hands gracing your skin; plus his filthy mouth.

“so good,” you whined out; not that you needed to vocalise such thing, it was already clear; but he loved your praise as much as you loved his.

he’d hummed in agreement, squeezing your ass in appreciation as his groans began to grow in frequency.

he was close, but in no way would he ever cum before you. his hand sneaking around your waist and dipping in between your thighs, finding your clit with ease.

suddenly you were seeing stars as his fingers circled your clit expertly, like he knew you like the back of his hand.

“cum for me baby, go on,” his words of encouragement were all you needed to hear as he continued to thrust in and out of you; releasing on his cock practically immediately at his demand.

your walls squeezed him perfectly, his name so pretty coming from your lips ━ his own high hitting him as he came inside of you with a groan.

it was oddly satisfying, a quick release; a new experience for the pair of you; both panting and coming down as he slid out of you.

he was gentle, a contrast to before, as he turned you round and sat you on the counter.

your breaths were heavy as you watched him, his hands reaching up your thighs and tugging your underwear down your legs before shoving them in his pocket, only then pulling your dress down for you.

“pervert,” you mocked with a teasing smile, his own one growing as he rolled his eyes ━ hands moving to rest on your thighs.

“collecting trophies today,” he shrugged; a laugh escaping you as your face screwed up ━ his humour never lost on you as you pushed against his chest.

“i should slap you for that,” you taunted, failing to pretend to be disgusted as you grinned at him ━ cheeks still flushed and chest still rising and falling as you caught your breath, a small chuckle escaping him.

there was a few moments of silence as lando adjusted himself, zipping his jeans back up and straightening out his shirt; your own hands moving to flatten your own hair.

“you gonna stick around?” lando’s question fell upon you with his intent gaze, eyes showing genuine interest.

your own eyebrows quirked in interest, unexpectedly. you’d assumed this was it for the night. he got his fix.

“maybe,” you shrugged; not in a teasing way, but genuine. you weren’t going to overstay your welcome. you were sure the casual party goers would be falling off the next couple hours, the ones who just wanted to get a glimpse of the driver.

you were assuming you fell into that category, not his inner circle.

“you should,” he hummed; and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you and the driver almost frowned.

“you need to celebrate,” you hummed; patting his chest lightly with a small laugh.

his eye roll was one of sass, like you should’ve expected. what you didn’t expect was for him to insist on you keeping him company.

“yeah, i plan on.” he spoke like it was obvious, thumb rubbing your inner thigh mindlessly.

you didn’t respond, looking over your shoulder into the mirror; wiping the slight smudges of your mascara, which thankfully didn’t cause any issues.

next was the corner of your lips, ensuring no lip gloss was where it shouldn’t be; lando watching you as you did so.

“didn’t you tell me when i next win a race i could do whatever i want with you?” lando was gaining your attention again, finger under your chin and directing your gaze back to him by turning your head; still stood between your legs.

you giggled, eyebrows raising; not needing much reminder of the words you definitely muttered. or maybe messaged; maybe both.

“that was because i wasn’t in miami,” you hummed, head tilting aside. “you don’t invite me to races, remember?” you sassed.

you watched as his face faltered, before his eyes narrowed into a playful glare; one you returned with a teasing smile; as if to say you weren’t being serious.

you two moved pass your comment, you made sure of it; although it would linger on lando’s mind.

“come on, you have people waiting i’m sure,” you hummed; patting his chest and ushering him back so you could hop off the counter, onto wobbly legs.

you rejoined the crowd as discreetly as possible, despite your lack of underwear and sticky thighs; however you were in no way to be ashamed, not with some of the activities going on around you.

people cheered when lando came into view, the man enveloped immediately.

“don’t you dare go anywhere!” lando managed to yell out to you before he was dragged off again; leaving you to laugh and only hum.

it was only your friend who met you with suspicious eyes, you found it comical she was the first person you came across; sheepishly smiling.

“oh you’re so full of shit!” your friend yelled, your cheeks heating as you shook your head; even pouting as you realised you had no defence.

or shame or regret. yet, at least.

“stop,” you whined as you hit her lightly, huffing as you grabbed her drink off her ━ downing it quickly as she laughed.

“no judgement; i knew you wouldn’t stay away,” she mused ━ and your eyes were rolling once more that night, shaking your head as if you had no idea what she was talking about. as if you too shared the same thought process, as much as you’d deny it.

you moved the focus of the pair of you on quickly, returning to dancing and socialising ━ people coming and going as the hours ticked by into the early morning, crowd thinning but not by much.

lando’s words were ringing in your head; don’t go anywhere. but when it was almost four you were thinking of leaving, doubting lando would be making your company once more this night.

why you wanted to keep him company? you wish you knew. if you could figure out why you were unable to avoid the man your life would be a lot easier. but maybe tonight was different, maybe it was a comfort.

a comfort to know he would spend a memorable night of his life, with you. a night he’d never forget; you’d be right there. it would be nice to know you weren’t the only one clinging onto the idea of the pair of you; that he too would reminisce and think what it.

your doubt continued to grow though, alongside the temptation of your comfortable bed.

you were stupid to doubt him however.

you spotted him easily, considering the crowd that seemed to follow him everywhere tonight.

you watched as his eyes darted around the room, almost urgently, searching out something or someone.

searching out you.

when his eyes met yours you watched as he grinned widely, shoulders relaxing as he suddenly moved with intent; weaving past the people surrounding him towards you.

you watched in amusement, almost shock; surprised he’d meant it. confused if you thought too hard.

“you’re still here,” he was still grinning ear to ear, hand finding your waist almost immediately when he was in reach.

you mumbled something playfully about how it wasn’t by choice, earning a laugh.

“we’re moving up to a booth,” his statement was an invitation; and suddenly plans of going back home were long forgotten.

all it took was a nod before his hand took yours, fingers intertwined and he was leading the way to a booth, that was decorated in more bottles of champagne and a ‘congrats lando’ sign; lucky party goers and friends filling the seats, you shuffling in next to the driver.

lando’s hand didn’t leave you. whether it was on your thigh, your hand, your waist; your shoulder; he was always touching you as the conversations flowed.

you failed to notice the way he tugged you closer to his side when you laughed a little too hard for his liking at one of his friends jokes. or the way his eyes were lingering on you every moment he had a break in conversation.

you knew what it looked like however, the pair of you. you knew your friend would laugh at the sight, ask you what the fuck you were doing. but as the crowd continued to fall off and disperse, and you gained more of lando’s attentions; you had little room to care.

the booth had emptied out, for how long who knows; you hadn’t caught on to the way lando had not so subtly hinted to the last couple of guys lingering to leave.

“have i told you how good you look tonight?” lando’s question was accompanied by his hand returning to your thigh, resting higher than it had earlier on ━ head tilting towards you.

you’d giggled, leaning back into your seat and shifting to face him, side pressed against the back of the booth as opposed to your back now.

“no,” you told him; eyes flickering over his face, the moles you’d counted too many times whenever you woke up first after a night together; his features always so much harder to ignore up close.

“look beautiful,” he hummed, and though he sounded incredibly sincere you couldn’t help but laugh.

“what? you do, you are,” lando huffed; not amused with your laughter ━ although the sound of your laugh had his lips naturally curving upwards despite his dismay, hand squeezing your thigh gently.

your cheeks heated despite you shaking your head, hands moving up in innocence.

“i didn’t say anything,” you defended; not elaborating on what appeared to be doubt. not at your own expense. more so just his intentions.

you didn’t want to hear his compliments that had your heart fluttering. or notice they way he was looking at you which such admiration.

you couldn’t afford to let your mind pick at and analyse every word and action with a hope that maybe he too felt the same as you.

lando hummed aimlessly at your defence, hand dangerously high now on your thigh ━ but it felt right, like it belonged there. regardless, the feeling of it creeping upwards had your sense suddenly on high alert.

“i’ve missed you,” lando’s words left his lips before he could stop them, but he didn’t show any regret or panic ━ eyes pouring into yours.

it’s the second time he’d said such thing tonight, and you still didn’t want to hear it. even in your tipsy state, it sent alarm through your nerves. don’t believe him, don’t get your hopes up.

your eyes were quick to leave his, hand reaching for your champagne glass in front of you; humming to try dismiss his words, missing the way his eyes squinted as he watched on.

“you don’t believe me,” he chuckled lowly as you sipped your drink, frame tensing as you prolonged shifting towards him again.

you weren’t given much choice though, his hand ━ the one not planted on your thigh, grasping your chin between his thumb and finger, bringing your attention back to him as you placed your drink back down.

his eyebrows raised expectantly, silently telling you to speak. to confirm his suspicions. his thumb absentmindedly wiping a drop of champagne from the corner of your mouth as he waited.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.” you spoke softly, masking the weight of your words with a soft smile; watching as his face flickered in thought.

“you don’t know that.” he was quick, unlike you, tone one of certainty you almost envied; his grasp still set on your chin as if he was scared you’d try escape his gaze once more. a reasonable fear.

“yeah okay.” you admitted defeat, in no way wanting to discuss this right now. not while you were so close to him, so keen to get under him once more. you couldn’t think straight about him when he was invading your senses.

he didn’t believe you suddenly believed him, but he wouldn’t push further; not when you were still in grasp and glowing in amusement.

the driver went to speak again; but for once you got on the front foot. there wasn’t much distance between the pair of you, so kissing him before he could get any words out was easy.

and maybe lando should’ve held his ground, stayed true on his intentions to reassure you. but naturally he found himself kissing back.

the light grasp on your chin turned to a firm hold of the side of your head, beckoning you closer as your hand planted on his chest.

you pulled away momentarily, barely; just so your lips left his; feeling his breath fan your face. you felt as if you’d overstepped, knowing he had reservations about pda in public. people spoke, and you weren’t his.

his fingers ran through your hair delicately, as if he knew what thoughts were going through your head; and he didn’t hesitate to guide you back towards him; lips meeting once more.

it was more heated this time; nowhere near as messy as the one in the bathroom though.

he needed you closer, shifting his grip to your hips to pivot you up and onto his lap, your body sliding perfectly between his and the table behind you, straddling his lap with no complaints.

it was out of character, knowing someone could walk up into the secluded section and see the pair of you, but if he didn’t care, neither did you.

your dress rode up your legs from your new position, not enough to expose you thankfully; but considering your underwear still sat in the drivers pocket, the rough fabric of his pants against your clit had you whimpering against his lips.

the sound went straight to his cock, which was already straining against his pants; he’d been fighting a semi since you slipped into the booth next to him. but the way you were slowly and not so subtlety grinding your hips against him made it a lot harder to ignore.

it also had an idea forming in the wicked mind of his.

you were left to catch your breath as he pulled away this time, hands lifting you momentarily and easily handling you to straddle just one of his thighs now, your cheeks heating as you immediately caught on. it wasn’t the first time you’d been in this position with him. except last time it was in the privacy of his apartment while he was on a work call.

“anything i want right?” he breathed out, intense was his stare as his hands spread across your sides, smoothing your dress down despite wanting to rip it off of you.

it was like a trance when he got like this, eyes darker ━ the way his jaw was clenched, his gaze alone having you feel the need to squirm and stutter.

your head looked over your shoulder, just once, needing the confirmation you were as alone as you could be; music still pumping, voices still heard from the dance floor down below. but you were alone up here.

that’s all you needed to know.

“yeah,” you confirmed, hands grasping at his shirt where they were previously planted on his chest ━ left to watch as his lips curved upwards into that damn smirk.

“go on then,” he hummed, adjusting slightly in his seat, getting comfortable as his head tilted back ever so slightly. “use me to get off.” he sounded so casual, your cheeks heating up as you suddenly wished you’d accepted that last round of shots half an hour ago.

but you didn’t need any more motivation when his hands tightened on your waist and dragged your hips for you ━ your jaw going slack from the sudden pressure.

his lips twitched upwards cockily once more, watching as it sprung you into action; your hips following his movements and rutting against his thigh, chasing the feeling you knew only he could give you.

the drivers hands folded behind his head now, watching intently as your bottom lip ran between your teeth, eyes flickering up and down your frame.

“atta girl,” he praised through a soft hum, and you had to bite down harshly on the inside of your cheek to refrain from moaning.

he looked fucking incredible; and you were missing the feeling of his hands on you, hips working faster as if it’d motivate him to touch you again.

he had you read, he always did. he knew what you wanted; could tell by the way your eyes were pleading with his. how you were fighting back a pout and whine. your grip on his shirt had tightened, practically tugging at the material.

lando could be cruel, but he was in no mood to deny himself tonight - he’d give you something; hand moving to cup your jaw, thumb pressing against your soft lips.

you didn’t miss a beat, allowing the digit to enter your mouth without any hesitation; lando watching the way your eyes almost glistened in submission as he pressed down on your tongue.

you didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, grunting slightly at the mere sight of you ━ your hips still grinding against him desperately as you treated his thumb as if it was his cock.

he was almost in disbelief, how he had you like this for him, where really anyone could see if they were to walk up the stairs. it was ridiculous actually, and stupid; both of you being incredibly idiotic, but too lust driven to care.

he wasn’t oblivious to the fact you made him think irrationally.

“fucking look at you,” he muttered under his breath, head tilting in slight awe; but there was a teasing tone underneath. “so pretty like this, so needy hm?” he was speaking so sweet it was sickening considering he was looking at you with a taunting grin.

you whined, unable to shut yourself up this time, surprised you’d kept quiet so long. your thighs twitched a few times, still desperately chasing your high like he’d told you too.

it was building, your stomach was tightening and you could feel the way your hips were beginning to move erratically. as could he.

“come on baby,” he encouraged ━ sliding his thumb out of your mouth, selfishly wanting to hear you despite your best efforts to stay quiet. “cum for me yeah, all for me,” lando edged you on; strategic as he tensed his leg and jolted it upwards once then twice.

it was all you needed, your second orgasm of the night hitting you as you shook in his lap.

“oh fuck,” you moaned through gritted teeth, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough for the music to drown you out; your body folding over to hide your head in his neck, muffling any other sounds to escape you.

“there you go,” he soothed, hand sliding down your back delicately, his other brushing the hair off your face as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “good girl, so fucking good,”

even if your slightly dazed state the affection had your chest tightening, still not used to the soft moments he always found time for between orgasms.

you took a few moments to compose yourself, lifting your head sheepishly as your eyes met his once more.

“your pants are gonna be ruined,” you mumbled, pouting up at him in slight embarrassment ━ watching as he chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“last thing i care about right now,” the driver smirked, adjusting the strap of your dress that had fallen down your arm ━ eyes lingering on your chest for a brief moment as he did so.

“should i call the car?” he asked you, lips pressing a kiss to your neck now, delicate this time, purely because he knew if he got too handsy now he’d not be able to stop himself.

you nodded, no need to think about the prospect of going home with him ━ you shouldn’t be surprised at this point, you couldn’t resist him. it was a fact.

the pair of you got outside relatively smoothly, in better shape than most of the crowd who were still here. you let him drag you to the exit as he simply waved and dismissed anyone who tried to speak to him, large hand enveloping yours.

the car was waiting, a bouncer opening the door for the pair of you as you slid into the backseat, not phased by the fact the sun was now rising.

the privacy shield separating the backseat from the front was all lando needed to see before he was on you again.

rushed and messy once more, you hadn’t even got your seatbelt on ━ hands cupping his cheeks as he leaned over you, closeness a need as your lips moved against his perfectly.

your chest was practically pressed to his, but still his hand found your back, attempting to pull you closer, earning a muffled giggle as you threw one of your legs over his.

“need you so bad,” lando grumbled against your skin as his lips shifted to your jaw, then down your neck, your head falling back invitingly as you grinned.

his lips moved to your cleavage now, kissing at the skin of your breasts ━ and he was about to tug your dress down until you sat up straight and pushed him back towards his seat.

your hands found the zipper of his pants before he could get a word out, the brit relaxing into his seat, in no way going to protest.

lando watched through hooded eyes as you made quick work of freeing his cock, which was painfully hard at this point.

he hissed as your hand wrapped around him, jacking him off once, twice, three times ━ smearing the precum across his tip and down his length.

his head threw back from the initial relief, and he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him when he felt your soft lips wrap around him.

he glanced down at you quickly, watching as you leant over into his lap, head bobbing up and down now as he gathered your hair into his hand and out of your way.

“fuck, just like that baby,” lando grunted as his hips bucked upwards, hitting the back of your throat momentarily, which made you gag but you didn’t miss a beat in your movements.

your hand gripped his thigh for stability, tongue swirling around him expertly, keen to get him off as his eyes rolled back from a feeling he could only describe as ecstasy.

he could’ve cum there and then, no shame either; but monaco was a small place and the car came to a halt much sooner than he’d liked.

you reluctantly slid off him, wiping your mouth oh so innocently as you did so ━ cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lando fiddling with his pants to try get his hard on back in his boxers.

you giggled slightly, climbing out the car ━ him not too far behind.

lando was sure to thank the driver, emptying his wallet of its cash to provide a tip ━ unsure what the man would’ve heard, but frankly he didn’t care. not when you were in his sights.

the elevator ride up to his apartment mirrored the first moments in the car, your body pressed between his and the wall of the elevator, lips in sync, make out interrupted by the ding of the doors opening.

you were kicking your heels off before he even got the door to his place open, discarding them the moment you stepped inside, before lando was using you to shut the door; not so gentle as he pushed you against the surface.

“nuh uh,” you stopped him as he leant in to kiss you once more; your hands pressing against his chest. “want to make you feel good,” you spoke softly, hands returning to the zipper of his pants to free his cock once more.

his eyes squinted in thought, keen to be inside of you; watching you squirm and hear you scream his name was all he could bloody think about.

you recognised that look. “please,” you added desperately, hands tugging the straps of your dress down, your tits spilling out, which had his eyes shamelessly flickering downwards.

lando couldn’t say no to you, not when you asked so nicely. he simply stepped back, giving you space to sink to your knees as your hand wrapped around his cock once again.

you licked up the base to the tip, eyes fixated above you, watching him as he did so; noticing the way his adam’s apple bobbed from the single action.

“tease me baby and i’ll happily play with your pretty cunt till your crying,” lando grunted out as his hand found its rightful place in your hair, a not so delicate tug for good measure.

you moaned at the action, confirming what you both knew was that you got the reaction you wanted; thighs squeezing together at the ‘threat’ but taking him in your mouth fully regardless. quick to mumble a ‘so impatient’ before hand.

lando’s actions were identical to before, except his head fell forward this time as his free hand grasped the door in front of him ━ your name falling from his lips in a groan.

it only motivated you, the grunts and small sounds he made; so keen to draw more out of him, to hear him praise you like he always does.

his sounds mixed with your own, gagging around his length ━ no matter how many times you found yourself in this spot he would always be too big, but it didn’t stop nor effect your efforts.

and it only turned him on more, refraining from squeezing his eyes shut to watch as your eyes watered once more.

“always gagging for it,” lando spoke cockily, a moan escaping him momentarily before he could continue his taunting. “bit of a slut for me no?” he chuckled lowly through gritted teeth; and he couldn’t stop the grin for forming as you moaned around him.

his head fell back now, a breath of content falling from his lips as he shut his eyes momentarily. “too good to me, fuck,” he grunted, hips thrusting forward momentarily ━ and you let him, anything to get him off sooner.

he knew he was close, but he couldn’t push the need to be inside of you. and while he thought he was out of self restraint for the night, he surprised himself in being able to pull you off of him, using the grip on your hair.

“gotta get inside you love,” he explained himself as if it wasn’t obvious, helping you to your feet as you refrained from huffing, wiping your mouth and chin of the saliva that had gathered.

you didn’t need him to lead you to his room, grateful it was the first door on the right otherwise you probably would’ve both ended up on the floor, not that it’d be the first time.

you properly unzipped your dress and stepped out of it, discarding it on his floor before sitting back on his bed ━ lando following suit, shirt discarded before he was stepping out of his pants and boxers.

you crawled back on the bed as he moved to hover over you, pushing you down to lay on your back before his lips were on yours once more.

kissing him never got old, your hands tangling in his curls as he used his knee to spread your legs apart.

you had no warning before he slid inside of you, easily doing so due to how wet you were, but the stretch was always a shock; jaw dropping as you moaned into his mouth, a sharp tug on his hair.

“fuck, always wrap round me so fucking well,” lando cursed, bottoming out and giving you a moment to adjust ━ well aware you’d be tender from the quickie earlier on in the night.

“lando, please━ fuck,” you whimpered, hands moving to grip at his back, back arching as he began to move; thrusting in and out. he wasn’t slow, but you knew he was holding back.

your eyes watched his intently, his scanning your features and admiring the way your face contorted in pleasure.

“lan, please,” you repeated, whimpering as you spread your legs a little more; keen to feel all of him.

“what? need more hm?” lando asked, the chained necklace dangling from his chest and brushing against your chin with every thrust. “needy little thing,” he grinned, and you could only whine as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily.

his hand shifted to your thigh, grabbing one of your legs and moving it upwards, pushing your knee towards your chest. the new angle allowing him to hit deeper, and suddenly his thrusts were harsher and quicker.

your eyes rolled back instantly, a squeal like moan escaping you before you could even try suppress it, nails dragging down his back as he pounded into you.

“yes, fuck, yes,” you practically chanted as he lando fucked you, hard. the way your eyes rolled back and jaw went slack only had him motivated, eager to draw out every possible sound from you.

he was relentless, you still couldn’t get used to the stamina, how there was never a break in the pace or harshness of his thrusts. no moment to breathe or try compose yourself, choked out moans almost straining your throat from how often he slammed into you.

“look at me baby,” lando demanded, wanting your pretty eyes focused on him ━ he wasn’t surprised you didn’t listen however, well, you didn’t really make sense of his words. a habit you seemed to have formed.

it wasn’t like you could help it, the way your brain seems to shut off the moment he hits that spot inside of you.

his hand around your throat was enough, eyes fluttering open and he squeezed softly; whimpering as you continued to moan and pant, met with his smirk.

“fucked dumb already,” lando grinned, almost boasting as he kept his hand around your throat; not applying much pressure but the feeling of it there alone had your hips spasming momentarily. “so easy for me baby, could have you like this all the time,”

you moaned at his words, hearing him loud and clear this time, nodding pathetically; you’d agree with anything he says right now,

“my pretty girl,” he was always quick with the praise after his harsh words, the contrast always welcome as your hands shifted from his back to his biceps. “all mine,” he reiterated.

the possessive tone he found would have you falling into wishful thinking if you possessed the ability to think straight, but thankfully you couldn’t; not when your vision was starting to be replaced with stars as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

his lips caught yours in another kiss, tongues clashing as you moaned into each others mouths ━ his turn to falter as your walls clenched around him, a string of curses being grunted against your lips.

you didn’t need to tell him you were close, no, he knew your body to well; he pushed your leg further back, as if it was possible, you in no place to recognise any slight discomfort when all you could feel was him inside of you, stretching you out.

you felt the difference in angle again however, eyes rolling back once more as you came hard and fast, his name falling from your lips as you did so.

“good girl baby, cum for me,” lando encouraged; continuing to thrust into you as you rode out your high, back arching and pushing into him.

your walls clenched around him once more, and he came almost immediately; releasing inside of you with a loud groan, your sounds intertwining and melting into one another.

your nails were sure to have left marks along his back, body going limp beneath him as his head dropped to your chest briefly, catching his breath as he too came down from his high.

he wasn’t done though, despite it almost being 7 in the morning, he wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline, the alcohol or you; but sleep was the last thing on his mind and his best guess was because of the latter.

he was moving again before you could fully recover, the sensitivity causing you to whimper immediately, his thrusts only slow now as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“know you’ve got one more in you,” he mumbled, and you wouldn’t ever disagree; nodding quickly as he gradually picked up the pace.

before he got into a rhythm however he slid out, sitting back on his knees and you simply looked at him, awaiting his next move.

he manhandled you onto your stomach easily, as if you were nothing; tugging your hips up and you followed naturally, back arching as your ass propped in the air, his hands grasping and squeezing the soft flesh before sliding back inside of you.

the change in angle once again had you moaning out loudly, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as lando found the pace he’d previously possessed.

your whole body jolted with every thrust, face gradually pushing into the covers, moans muffled as your back arched further.

he didn’t like not hearing you though, obsessed with the way you’d moan and borderline scream his name; so he flew into action, grabbing your hair and tugging so your head was lifted; a loud moan escaping you on cue.

“so fucking good, take me so well,” lando grunted his praise ━ hips slamming into yours.

you couldn’t form words, only replying in little whines and whimpers, choked out moans as your body became overstimulated.

lando knew your limits though, knew how far he could push you. his hand snaking around your waist to find your clit, and rubbing circles on your sensitive bud had your body shaking immediately.

“fuck━ lando, oh my god,” you’d practically cried out, unable to do anything but take all he was giving you, hand in your hair still keeping you in place as he pounded your cunt.

“take it love, know you can,” he grunted; fingers quickening up ━ and he was obsessed with the way your thighs spasmed, your walls clenched around him and your hand reached back to try grip his wrist.

you came again, unable to give warning as your eyes watered from the mere overstimulation.

“there you go, good girl, so so good, could watch you come undone my cock every day,” lando talked you though it, hips still moving relentlessly as he let go of your hair, your front half falling back into the mattress ━ both hands gripping your hips now as he chased his own high.

you whimpered as he fucked you through your high, and when he came inside you again you swear it all became a blur, trying to recover from your back to back orgasms.

lando slid out of you and rolled off of you after he caught his breath; which was much quicker than you. his hand delicately pushing some of your hair back had your head tilting to face him however, a lazy smile grazing your features.

“you’re incredible,” lando mumbled, admiring you quietly; and if you weren’t exhausted you would’ve laughed at him.

“shut up.” you mumbled, eyes fluttering shut, legs still shaking as lando rolled his eyes ━ a stupid smile on his face none the less.

“no running out of me yeah?” lando hummed, arm moving to wrap around your frame, easily pulling you into his chest. and you should’ve been alarmed, gone into self preservation mode and pushed away.

but you couldn’t, simply accepting his embrace that you’d always crave, head finding a spot on his toned chest.

“don’t think i could if i tried,” you laughed, not sure your legs would hold your weight if you tried to stand. let alone walk.

“yeah good, that was the whole point,” lando chuckled playfully, fingers dancing up and down the side of your arm, eyes fixated on you below him.

you laughed softly, knowing this conversation needed to be addressed properly. that come morning, or well maybe early afternoon in this case, when you wake up, you’ll be met with that sinking feeling again. the one where you’ll feel the need to flea, to escape him and the domesticated side you so badly wanted to yourself.

but you’d settle for this for now, just like lando would settle for you believing this was the most he could offer. for now.

━━━

a/n: did u miss me and my shitty endings 🤭🤭🤭

soz for disappearing and soz if this is rusty asf it just came to me and it’s 3:30am but i needed to get it done 🤭🤭🤭

unedited like usual oops

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Small Touches and Simple Gestures

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> For years you've pretended to be married to avoid unwanted attention. But what happens when the lie you've been living, suddenly becomes true. Well, at least a part of it.

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, one of the agents making a move on Reader though nothing happens (Javi stops it). Fake dating, falling in love, embarrassing mothers, office romance. Heavy smut towards the end, so 18+. Happy ending. A lot of smaller intimate moments between Javi and Reader away from the smut, too. Kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you that three years into working with Agent Javier Peña you’d be wearing a wedding band, marrying you to him for at the very least, the foreseeable future…you wouldn’t have believed them. 

And you would be right not to. Because that, technically, wasn’t what it was for. 

And it had all started with a question that Peña asked you one day as you sat at your desk. 

“Was he real?”

You slowly tore your attention away from the case file in front of you. “What?”

“Your husband.”

For a moment you forgot all about how you’d first come to interact with Peña. He had asked you out. Well, flirted heavily then asked you out. 

“What husband?”

Javi stood as he talked, walking towards your desk and sitting down on the edge of it closest to you. “One day you’re wearing a wedding ring telling me you’re married, the next it’s gone.”

You looked at your hand. “Oh. Yeah.” You decided to admit the truth. “I made him up.”

Despite his constant theories, he was still shocked. “What?”

“I made him up.”

You said it as if you were asking him how his day was. Like it was nothing new. 

“You made him up?”

“You try and be a single woman in this office who doesn’t like getting hit on by every guy who thinks with his dick,” you told him. “See how quickly you make up a fake family.”

He had to laugh. “But I hit on you.”

You looked at him, suppressing an already knowing smirk on your face. “My point exactly.”

“Think I got something.” From the door, Steve came sweeping inside and threw a couple of files down on Javi’s desk. The previous topic was dropped for now but you took a moment to revel in the shock graced on Peña’s face. 

However, a few hours later, it was brought back up again. 

You’d been standing in the evidence locker, looking for yet another misplaced case file. Could people not read in this office? Had they lost all sense of the alphabet? You sighed heavily. 

“How long have you been doing it?”

You jumped and found Peña standing behind you. “Jesus, Peña. Make a noise or something. Fuck.” You turned back to the messy shelf in front of you. 

“So?”

You sighed. “Doing what? This? Feels like hours.”

He shook his head and rounded you before leaning against the side of the shelves. “Not the files. You being married.”

“Oh, uh…” You pulled a few hefty files and handed them over to him before reaching down onto the lower shelf and pulling those files up. “Couple years, I guess. Since before the Academy.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, or do I need to repeat myself, Peña?”

He shook his head again and put the files down. “No, I heard you. But that’s here. Why did it start?”

You sighed and stopped what you were doing to look at him. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

He let out a small chuckle. “What? Come on, you’re one of the first Agents here to reject me not once, but three different times.”

You raised a subtle eyebrow. “I was married when you did that.”

“The first time, yes.” Javi corrected. “But that was an honest mistake. The second and third time, there was no ring on your finger. And, after this morning, you technically weren’t married at all. Look, just answer my questions and then I’ll drop it forever.”

“You promise?”

He held up his hand. “Scouts honour.”

You gave a questioned hum. “It’s difficult to imagine you as a Scout.”

“Y/l/n.”

You groaned. “Fine. It started because I got asked out a couple of times by this guy. He seemed nice and all but I wasn’t interested. So, when he asked why I kept saying no, I told him I was married. Swapped my rings over under the bar top before showing it to him. He took it well, apologised and said my husband was a lucky fella.”

Peña continued to listen. 

“Then I moved away. The second time I was with someone but this guy just kept hitting on my friend. She went to the bathroom and then he started on me. Told him I was with someone. He didn’t believe me. So, I showed him my wedding band. Said my friend was married, too. He,” you sighed. “Eventually backed-off. After that it just kinda became my go-to. People I interviewed preferred to see a married woman than a single woman being a cop. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t start out my job as married. But the minute the compliments, and the touching and the dates being pre-arranged because they expected me to say yes…once they all started, I started wearing my wedding ring.”

“So why take it off?”

You shrugged. “Guess I must have forgotten. Besides, nobody has tried anything in the last couple of years. We’ve all been too busy.”

For a moment, Peña’s demeanour seemed to shift. “But I’ve flirted with you.”

You smiled a tired smile and stepped back from the files for a moment. “I work with you, Peña. I like you but I think I’m immune.”

“That hurts.” He deadpanned before placing a hand over his heart. “That…wow.”

You laughed. “I think you’ll bounce back.”

And he did. That night he walked out telling Murphy he had a date with the stall girl he’d met a few days ago. 

The following weeks were hectic as different cases made their way across your desk, all with connections to Peña and Murphy’s biggest case; Pablo Escobar. 

From interviewing victim’s families, to interrogations, to the crappy coffee in the break room. Your days and nights were spent looking over files and dealing with your case loads. Until one afternoon in the breakroom led to something you never had expected. 

There was another Agent working at the Embassy. You’d seen him around a few times, shared a conversation or two. But most importantly, he had seen your wedding ring. You hadn’t missed his behaviour over the last couple of days. It started with smiles in the hallway – innocent enough. Then you found him in your breakroom more. Apparently the coffee was better. Then he was sitting at your table during lunch – apparently his partner was out for the day and he felt like some company. You didn’t miss his eyes clocking your hand. 

“Your wedding band. It’s gone.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but the lie fell from your lips. “Oh, yeah, It’s in for a cleaning. It had a couple dark patches and scuffs on it.”

More things started creeping up. Like how he always stood just that little bit closer and not in a comforting way, when you were both talking. Or how his eyes looked you up and down before you got to speaking distance from each other. 

Then in the breakroom, the ‘compliments’ started. How your hair looked – how it always looked. How you always made ‘women’s clothes look so much better’. How he enjoyed spending time with you because you actually talked to him. 

“You know,” he trailed a finger up your arm and you were three seconds away from breaking it and running to take a scalding hot shower. “I was thinking we could get away for a while. After all, we both deserve a break. Maybe take these lunches outside of the office.”

You stepped back. “I’m married.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that’s a sham.” He told you, taking a step closer as you took another one back. “You never bring him to office parties, there’s no pictures on your desk-”

“I don’t need to prove to you or to anyone else that I’m married.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re not about to tell me he lives in Canada are you?”

“No. He-”

“He’s right here.”

It was safe to say you were shocked, but the agent didn’t seem to notice as he turned round and found Javi standing in the hallway. 

“Peña. I was just-”

“Scaring my wife?”

The guy was turning paler by the second and yet somehow his ego carried him through. “You mean work-wife, because I have to say Javi, that doesn’t really count.”

“How about a marriage certificate? Does that count for you?” Peña finally found you by his side before he whispered to you.

“You okay, cariño?” All you could do was nod, the shock of him pretending to be your husband still settling over you. 

He looked back to the agent who had been hitting on you. “I’m gonna tell you this once and only once. Hit on my wife or scare her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Javi-”

“I don’t think Messina would be happy to learn one of her best Agents was being sexually harassed.”

He nodded, backing away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Javi shook his head. “Not to me. To her.”

Awkwardly, the guy looked from Javi, around the room, back to Javi and then to you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. Peña’s your husband?

“You can go.” 

Taking Javi’s instructions, he left. Peña then waited a minute before turning towards you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He asked, holding the coffee pot in one hand and your mug in the other. 

“Javi…” You looked around the room before looking back at him. “This is gonna spread around the office. You and I -- married.”

He shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Now you’ve got a physical person to pretend to be your husband.”

“Javi.” He handed you your cup of coffee before pouring his own. “Please tell me you are aware of your own reputation? And the fact that we are colleagues? And the fact that I have been making a husband up for god knows how long? People are going to know this is fake and then I’ll be judged – heavily – for it.”

“Why would you be judged?”

You rested a hand on your hip. “This is gonna look like I’ve used you to be my pretend husband and everyone will just feel sorry for me and make a big joke about it with you.”

“Except I’m the one that told him.” Peña pointed out. “If anything, that’s what’s going to spread around the office.”

“Ah yes, I can see the headlines now; ‘Agent Javier ‘slut’ Peña finally ties himself down with a female colleague.’.”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to be tied down if you don’t want to.”

You hit him on the arm. “Be serious.”

“Look,” he set his coffee cup down and took you by the shoulders. “If it becomes anything then we just fake it. We already spend most of our time together anyway, and who hasn’t had an office romance once in their life?”

“I haven’t.”

Peña paused for a second before nodding. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost your office romance virginity.”

“Peña.”

He shook it off. “All I’m saying is, if it becomes a thing, we just…roll with it.”

“Roll with it?”

He nodded. “Roll with it.”

“There’s a chance our careers hang in the balance because I’m pretty sure this breaks at least three rules in HR. And your grand solution is to…’roll…with it.’.”

Javi nodded once more. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was not fine. Neither of you were fine. Especially considering two days later you were both forced into Messina’s office where, before you could spit out the truth, Messina interrupted and said she didn’t want to know. Just that you both had to remain completely professional and that if someone ever caught either of you, you’d both be suspended. 

So, things remained somewhat neutral. You both received a couple of looks from other co-workers. Murphy teased both of you relentlessly, despite being the only one to know the truth since you stopped the elevator when all three of you were inside to tell him as much. 

But then the loud rumours started and people didn’t even try to hide them. 

Whilst pouring you and Peña a cup of coffee each – something you had done almost everyday for three years, you could hear people gossiping. 

“Maybe he knocked her up. Shotgun wedding, you know?”

“I don’t think they’re even a couple. I mean, they never show any kind of affection to each other.”

One disagreed with that statement. “No, I’ve seen him with her a few times. Little touches here and there. Must be their love language. Small touches and simple gestures.”

“That’s cute, I guess. But I kinda expected more from Javi. He was always so…you know.”

The woman beside her sighed, “Yeah.”

You walked away more confused about life than you had been since before you started highschool. 

It was clear the rest of the office ‘knew’ about ‘you and Javi’. And that they each had a different opinion on the matter. And some of them you didn’t even know about, but Javi did. 

He’d heard everything from your marriage to him being a sham because he got you pregnant, to both male and female staff asking him “why y/n?”. Except, it was never in a friendly manner. To the men, it was either because they thought “Javi could have any choice he wanted, and he went for her?”, or because he’d gone for one of the women they had wanted “a shot at” themselves. And to the women it was…much of the same thing, with an added jealous streak wondering why he went for “the one woman who didn’t want” him, when most of the other women who’d worked with him “actually wanted” him. 

Javi’s eyes trailed your every move from the coffee station, back to your desk and then towards him. “You okay?”

You zoned back into reality and handed him his coffee. “Yeah. Fine. What have you got?”

Turning the case file around, he told you. 

Around a month or so later, not much had changed. People were still gossiping about your marriage to Peña, the case was gathering little evidence so the constant reviewing of previous case loads was underway. Between keeping up the lie of your marriage to Javi – despite neither of you having to do much out of your normal routine – and the case work and the constant heart attack you got when Messina would stop walking when stood directly between your desk and Peña’s before humming and moving along, you were running out of energy. 

“Come to mine after work.”

You looked around. People were looking but they were too far out of earshot to hear. 

You took the paper from Javi. 

“Why?”

“You’re tired, and I’m tired watching you eat that shitty stuff from the cafeteria. I’m cooking dinner.”

You looked up at him, shocked. “You can cook?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. After work. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

Javi tapped your desk twice before walking away and looking around the office. Everyone who had been looking quickly looked away before looking back at you. Once they found you looking, they turned back to their work. 

For a moment, you looked at the half stale coffee on your desk. It would be nice to have a decent meal considering you’d been eating left-overs for about a week and half. 

And he kept his promise. 

Javi had left work an hour before you were supposed to. He’d grabbed his jacked off the hook behind your desk, bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your body too tired to fight off leaning into him when he did so. You had meant to clock out of work an hour later but staring at words, losing concentration and trying to focus back in meant when you finally looked at the clock, you were getting close to being forty minutes late. 

“Shit.”

Not bothering to drop your stuff off in your apartment two floors up, you found Javi’s door unlocked like he’d said and you walked inside. 

It smelt like heaven. Good, hot food. And Javi. 

It was quiet as you walked down his hallway and eventually found him relaxing on the sofa, his legs thrown across the rest of it. He was watching reruns. 

“Relax,” you could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see his face. “Figured you’d be late. Food’ll be ready soon.”

With a relieved sigh, you dropped your bag by the steps and walked around. He moved his legs for you to sit down and he watched you for a moment as you pushed the heels of your hands into your eyes and leaned back. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” you admitted. 

“Come ‘ere.” His voice was soft and quiet as he reached out for you by the shoulder. Looking at him for a moment before silently agreeing, you let him pull you down until eventually you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his legs tangled with yours. 

It took him a moment, but Javi removed your hair-tie letting your hair loose before running his fingers through it. You relaxed almost immediately, feeling the once growing headache slowly melt away with each touch of his hand. 

You could have fallen asleep but he didn’t let you. “You’ve gotta eat. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing.”

You groaned a little and buried yourself deeper into his side. “How are you this calming?”

“It’s my natural touch.” Javi told you before kissing the top of your head and sitting up. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Then I promise, you can fall asleep.”

“Hallelujah.” 

It took you a moment but your head eventually stopped spinning long enough for you to sit up and walk over to the table where Javi had set down both of your meals. And it was one of the best you’d ever had; either because he was a great cook, or you were starving enough that any food that wasn’t cafeteria left-overs would taste like heaven at that moment. Though, you had a feeling it was the first one. 

In silence, you both washed and dried. Until you spoke out the pressing question on your mind. 

“What happens if we meet ‘the one’?”

“What ‘one’?” Javi handed you another freshly washed plate. 

“I mean,” you spun it through the dish towel. “To everyone else, we’re married. But what if we end up meeting the person we actually want to date and marry? What do we do then?”

Javi shrugged. “Guess we get divorced.”

“But we’re not actually married.”

“Then we play it by ear. They say when you know you know…maybe when we know, we just…tell them the truth. But I doubt that’s gonna happen.” Javi nearly crapped himself. “For me, not you. I doubt that’ll happen for me.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

For a moment, he was quiet. Thinking. Deliberating. “Back in Texas, I was gonna get married. Lorraine. She was a wonderful woman but…I don't know. I was driving to the church and I just stopped.”

“You left her at the altar?”

“I never made it to the church,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I suppose at some point I’d settle down but…” Javi shrugged. “I can see it happening for you though, so, whenever you do meet him, I can be there to help explain this whole…situation we’ve got going on.”

You laughed a little at that. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you were half asleep before Javi pulled you over to him once more. The last thing you could remember was you taking a deep breath in, the scent of him, his home and his cooking fill your senses. 

When you woke up, you found yourself still on the sofa, the news playing on the TV and Javi cooking in the kitchen. It took you a while before your brain registered you weren’t still dreaming and you’d fallen asleep not only at Peña’s, but also on him. 

“Hey,” Peña shook you back awake. “Breakfast is ready.”

You placed your hand over his and nodded. “Okay.”

Neither of you said anything when you ate, just listened to the news that passed over the speakers of the TV. 

“Who taught you to cook?” You asked, turning to look at him as he drove you both to work. 

“My dad. My mom helped, but dad was the one who burnt less stuff.”

After eating, you’d run to your apartment to get a fresh change of clothes and run a brush through your hair, only to be greeted by your husband at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive us to work.”

So, now you were driving to work with Javi before hopping out of his car and being led with a warm hand at the bottom of your back through the hallways of work before you both finally reached your desks. 

And for the first time in weeks, you finally had the energy to get through your work day. And so did Javi. 

Although things started to change when you got a surprise visit from your mother.

You’d been working for weeks on the same case and in between all of the case work, the fake marriage and the few months that followed, you’d forgotten to write to your mother. 

It was her one agreement with you moving to Columbia. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop you – it was your job and you were good at it, plus, despite all of the gear grinding you had to do every now and again, you loved it. But knowing she didn’t accept your decision to work as DEA in Columbia would have slowly killed you – and her, too. 

Any time she called, you’d either been dead asleep – either at yours or Javi’s – or at work. So, she took the notion to come and see you. 

So when you walked down the hall towards your office and heard your mother’s voice ask you a question, you felt your entire body crash to a screaming halt before realising what and why she was asking. 

“You’re married?” 

“Mom.”

Your mom called your full name and walked towards you. “What this lovely woman just told me better not be true, or else that means I’ve missed my daughter’s wedding.”

You tried your best to remain calm and relaxed. Two emotions you were desperately clinging onto for dear life. “She tells me his name is Javier Pen…”

For a moment, she looked back to the secretary who nodded and whispered his name again for your mother to repeat with full confidence to you. “Javier Peña.”

“Mom, maybe it’s best we-”

Then the secretary spoke up in excitement. “Oh, there he is. Javi!”

Looking up from his own case file, about to turn down the hallway, he found who was calling him before seeing who was standing in front of them. You and, from what he could guess, your mother. 

Shit. Your mother? No. She was back in the States. Maybe he’d remembered her face wrong from the picture behind your desk. 

Walking over, Javi’s hand came to your lower back before he quickly brushed a kiss against your cheek. “Cariño, you okay?”

You tried to remain calm as you said the next sentence. “Javi, this is my mother. Mom, this is my..husband..Javi.”

Then something you hadn’t expected to happen, happened. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” But she still shook his hand and allowed him to press a light kiss to the back of it. 

Carefully, Javi stepped back and pulled you closer towards him, your mother’s eyes never once stopping to not examine the couple that stood in front of her. 

Javi nodded. “We are sorry about that. But, maybe we can make it up to you.”

You looked at Javi a little panicked. But your mother was already interested. “Oh?”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here for a few days? Come and stay with us. I can make us dinner and we can all get to know each other.”

Then your mom smiled. Apparently Javi already had her approval. “Well…I think that would be lovely. But don’t think either of you are getting off lightly. I missed my daughter’s wedding that I didn’t even know about.”

“Honey, give your mother our address, I’ll ask-”

She shook her head. “No, no. You all seem busy. I can take myself there. And I’d like to see what’s around the market stalls. Is there anything I can bring for dinner?”

Javi shook his head. “No, not at all.”

You smiled. “He’s got it covered, mom. Just bring yourself.”

“Alright then. Well, I look forward to seeing you both for dinner.”

In the space of five minutes you’d all said your goodbye’s and you had ever so sweetly pulled your husband towards your office before closing the door and blinds and turning back to your partner. 

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Javi shrugged. “She’s come down here to see you. We might as well make the effort.”

“We? Javi. We don’t live together. She’s gonna take one look around my apartment and realise I still live there. She’s gonna take one more look at my face and realise everything that’s happened is a complete sham and then she’s gonna parade it around town that I’m still single. She won’t mean it harshly, but she will.”

“So, we don’t tell her and just say we haven’t had a chance to move things since getting married. We’ll be okay.”

You let out a panicked laugh before you started pacing. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s bad enough we’re lying to people here.”

“You’re the one that started it before I got roped in.”

“Hey! You roped yourself into this. You were the one that said you were my husband.”

“Would you have preferred for Agent Dickbag to keep pushing?!”

You took a breath. “Javi…I don’t know if I can lie to her. What…what do I tell my family when they find out? This was just meant to keep people like Agent Dickbag away…”

Reading the panic all over your body, Javi stood and walked towards you until you were wrapped in his arms. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll keep the secret up long enough to make sure nobody else finds out the truth, and then you can just say we rushed into things. We got a quick divorce and moved on, civilly.”

“I think you missed your calling in Acting.” You told him. “I think my mom already has your seal of approval.”

“Really?” He pulled back a little and smiled. “That’s a first.”

“We’ll be okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

And you believed him. 

Because it was true. 

In the space of about fifteen minutes, you and Javi managed to move some things from your apartment, into his to make it seem more…homely. Like two people actually lived there. Especially since your mom would be living in your apartment for the next couple of days until she flew back home to the rest of your family. 

“Will she really check the bedroom?” Javi called from the kitchen. 

You’d moved some things to the second bedside table. One or two books, a couple of hair-ties, plasters, “stray” pens. You tried your best to make it look believable as possible. 

“You don’t know her like I do. This woman is Jessica Fletcher. Unsuspecting to the world, but in fact sees everything. Trust me, you do not want to end up in interrogation with my mother. Happened to a perp once. She came in to visit my dad but he was wrangling a couple of the officers so she walked around, found the perp sitting in holding and she actually got a confession out of him. Cops had been trying all day and nothing. A five minute conversation with my mother and they got a full written confession out of him.”

Javi gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So, trust me, what I’m doing? It’s gonna, hopefully, save us some grief.”

Javi was still cooking by the time your mom knocked on his door and you brought her inside. Immediately her eyes scanned the place picking up on the pictures, books and music. 

“It smells delicious.”

“He’s a good cook.”

And for the first couple of minutes everything ran smoothly. Your mother did everything you’d expected her to do. She even passed Javi in the kitchen to look into your bedroom. 

“She really did it.” Javi mouthed. 

“Told you so,” you mouthed back. 

“Mom, do you wanna come and sit down? I can get you a drink.”

“I’ll have a soda if you have it, please.”

You got your mom a soda and poured it into a glass with ice, handing it to her as she stood still examining your home. 

“So, how is he in bed?” She whispered a little too loud to you. 

You felt yourself go bright red. Redder still when you heard Javi chuckle from the kitchen. “Mom!”

“What? I’m allowed to ask my daughter these questions. I need to know you’re being satisfied in every aspect of your marriage.”

You groaned and covered your eyes. “Mom.”

“You’re being careful? Using condoms? You know pulling out doesn’t work as birth control.”

You could have died. “Mom, please. Stop.”

Javi let out a small laugh as he walked from the kitchen and handed you a drink. “Mrs Y/l/n, if you really want to know-”

“Oh no. No, Javi, please. Please don’t encourage her.”

“We’re being safe. Having a family right now probably wouldn’t be the best move for either of us.”

Your mother just graced him with a soft smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not,” you groaned a little. “Can we please change the conversation?”

“You know, she’s always been like this.” Your mom told Javi who only seemed to revel in your terror. 

“Really? This isn’t a new thing?”

“No,” you mom told him. “She went just as red when I gave her the birds and the bees talk.”

“That’s because you decided to tell me in the middle of my middle school hallway during a Parent’s Evening.”

“And when I took her to the doctors to get her on the pill.”

You covered your face. “I’m in hell.”

Javi’s hand reached for your shoulder and shook you lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside you. You leaned into him. 

“I’d finally got it out of her that she’d had sex and next-”

“And next thing I’m being wrangled into an office chair with the doctor having my mother shout from the rooftops her daughter was no longer a virgin.”

Your mom gasped. “It wasn’t like that,”

You leaned into your husband who’d just let out a small laugh. “Please make it stop.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m glad to know you’re being satisfied. Your face tells me more than you think.”

“Okay!” You stood up quickly and tried to run away, only to feel Javi’s hand reach out and pull you back, spinning you to stand by him. From the light red in his cheeks, he felt a little embarrassed, too, but he seemed to handle it a lot better than you. 

He was chuckling. “Don’t think you’re able to run from this. I wanna know more about you from your mom.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be here for it.” You tried to make a break for it again, but Javi caught you and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to slowly disappear from sight as you found yourself trapped in his hands and arms, and his gaze on you, just as yours was on his. And for a moment, you wondered what it would be like if you kissed him. 

Little did you know, he’d been thinking the exact same thing. 

Then a timer went off. 

“That’ll be the food.” Javi kissed a quick peck to your temple before standing and walking towards the kitchen, leaving your gaze to trail after him. 

“You really do love each other,” your mom pointed out from her spot on the sofa. “I can see why you got married. You both need to tell me what your wedding was like!”

And so you did over dinner. With the added linger of whatever had happened when he’d pulled you closer to him. 

You caught Javi looking at you a few times, and subsequently, he’d caught you, too. And, without rehearsal, you’d both managed to bullshit your way through explaining why you’d both decided to get married so quickly. 

From you and Javi, your mother had learned you’d both met when you started in Columbia and you were both ‘friends’ for a while. Not much had to be lied about in that department. Javi’s reputation. Your “ability” to make every man that asked you out believe you were taken. How you’d worked together for a long time before becoming actual friends. Then the lies started…right?

About how you and Javi made a true friendship of sorts over the late nights working, swapping smaller stories until something changed. 

“It was like…my heart had stopped and rebooted itself. Suddenly, everything felt like it had shifted and changed somehow.” Peña explained to your mom. “Nothing had ever been more…clearer and more daunting than ever.”

Then Javi looked at you, and you found a mirrored expression. Sadness? Confusion? Desperation? Fear? Realisation? You didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, you felt it. For some unknown reason, everything he’d just said rang true in your ears, your head and even your heart. 

Nothing had ever been more clearer and more daunting than ever.

By the time your mom decided she was ready for bed, you were already fast asleep against Javi. At some point in the evening when he’d sat beside you, he’d slung his arm behind you and between the warmth and familiarity of him, you’d let yourself truly relax. 

“I’ll walk you up.”

Your mom shook her head as Javi led her towards the door. “I know my way and you’re both tired. I’ll be okay. Get her to bed.”

Javi looked back at you for a moment and smiled.

“You really do love her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Your mom smiled at her supposed son-in-law. “I understand why she fell for you, but I hope you know, just because you’re the first one of her boyfriends, well, husband now. But just because you’re the first I approve of, doesn’t mean I won’t be judging you. You look after her, and you look after her well. Love her everyday. It’s not every day someone gets to spend the rest of their lives with my daughter. I hope you see that as a privilege.”

Javi nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Javi was telling the truth and your mom nodded. “Good. And thank you for dinner. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Mrs Y/l/n.”

Javi waited until he heard your apartment door lock before he shut his own, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

His socks padding his footsteps as he walked back to you, he was careful to pick you up before carrying you to bed and covering you up. You were still fast asleep by the time he climbed into bed beside you, but either way, you naturally rolled towards the slight dip in the bed before reaching out for him like you did almost every time he’d carried you to his bed because you’d fallen asleep in his apartment. 

The only times he didn’t was when he fell asleep with you and woke up as the sun peeked through his blinds in his living room. 

With a contented sigh, you slipped into a dreamless sleep beside him and for a few minutes, he laid awake, listening to your breathing. Then he let his mind slip back through the evening. If the funny feeling in his stomach and chest wasn’t what he hoped it was, but rather was what he suspected it to be, then he would have to soak up your actions as a married couple over the next couple of days before everything went back to semi-normal. 

Because if he was right, and he was growing feelings for you, then these days would have to be enough. Your marriage with him and his marriage to you was meant to be for appearances, only. Nothing real was meant to come out of it, was it? 

Because the feeling in his chest as he looked down at you, asleep by his side and in his arms…that feeling sure felt real. 

Waking up in the morning, you felt more comfortable than usual. No creaky mattress spring giving you a sneak attack from beneath your sofa and into your back, no blinding light coming through curtains you’d forgotten to shut, no cold side to your bed as you turned over. 

Instead, you felt warm. You found warmth. 

Asleep on his front but his arm still across you, you found Javi. Fast asleep, seeming as though not even a gunshot would wake him. 

And rather than jump out of bed or rollaway like you usually would when you found yourself in this position with any man, or even him going off the last couple of months. 

You’d found yourself falling asleep countless times at Javi’s and the majority of the time, you woke up in his bed. 

But waking that morning, especially after the night before, had something feeling different. So you took your time. 

For the first time you…studied him. 

You’d found yourself doing it more and more in recent months. How he sat in a chair, the look on his face when he was annoyed, amused, sometimes even scared. 

And for the first time, maybe ever. He looked…

Peaceful. 

As if it was a Sunday morning and neither of you had to get up for work. Like when he’d wake, you’d both spend the morning in bed before relaxing in your home. 

And for a moment, you let yourself dream about that life. A life where there was no fear of maybe never coming home. A life where you could both…be peaceful. Happy. 

Together, maybe?

After a few moments, you felt a gentle touch against your cheek, and slowly opening your eyes, you found Javi’s hand cupping your cheek, his fingers brushing soft patterns into your skin. 

“Cariño…”

You smiled, finding comfort in the common nickname. “Hey.”

“You been awake long?”

You shook your head, softly. “Not long.”

“Good.” Javi then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here.”

Granting yourself permission to do as he said, Javi rolled over onto his back and pulled you into his side before he decided to ultimately face you. 

Down your back, he traced a singular line back and forth as you both synced calming breaths and listened to the comfortable silence of the room. 

“We could call in sick.” Javi said after ten minutes. “We’ve built up enough time to take the day off. You could show your mom ‘round.”

“We can’t,” you pointed out. “What about the case?”

“The case will still be there tomorrow. And besides, if something changes, they’ll call us in-”

Then you both heard the front door lock open. 

“Javi-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he sat up and so did you. Quietly, he moved over towards his bedside table and pulled out his gun before checking the bullets. 

You both heard the door open and just as Javi was about to leap out of bed, you both heard your mother’s voice. 

“Y/n? Javier? You two sleepy heads awake yet?!”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and sat back against Javi’s headboard. “Jesus Christ.”

“Your mom has a key?” Javi put his gun back and closed the draw as he looked back at you. 

“I told you. Jessica Fletcher.” Then you called out to her. “Mom! We’re in here.”

Letting out a breath, Javi sat himself back beside you just as your mom walked into your bedroom. “Mom, you can’t just break in,” you told her, tiredly. 

“I didn’t break in. I had a key.”

“Both of us could have shot you.”

Your mom looked over both of you and gave a coy smile. “Then it’s a good thing I called out then. You both look…well rested.”

It was too early to even pretend what she thought had happened, had happened. So, tearing your eyes from Javi, you looked to your mom. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have made breakfast for both of you since Javi cooked us such a wonderful dinner last night.”

“Mrs Y/l/n, you really didn’t-”

“Hush now. I was happy to do it. Now, chop chop.” Your mom clapped her hands. “There’s plenty of time for this,” she gestured to you, Javi and the bed, “later. Come on. Before the day is gone.”

And as she walked out, you felt yourself collapse into Javi’s sheets, already feeling your face go hot. 

“She really doesn’t hold back, does she?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled through the sheets. 

Ultimately, Javi convinced you to take the day off with him and after a homemade breakfast, yet another awkward conversation surrounding love-making in the shower – to which Javi nearly choked on his toast. Both you and Javi had showered (separately) before getting changed and deciding to show your mom around the different places in town. 

And despite the stories shared by your mother; thankfully not all of them made you want a hole in the ground to open up the floor. 

You also found spending the day with Javi, outside of work talk, to be more than pleasurable. With his hand in yours, or his arm around you, holding your own across your stomach, you’d both walked side by side for most of the day. He told your mom some things about Columbia even you didn’t know before, easily sharing some stories of his own childhood when your mom asked. 

And you felt…glad, maybe? Like for the first time since moving to Columbia you were home. And it wasn’t just because your mom was there, but rather because of the person who stuck by your side all day, letting you see behind the personal walls he had up at work. The ones that, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t know were even there. 

Yet, despite the entire day feeling like one giant butterfly in your stomach at every touch, look  and graze you felt from Javi, nothing made it feel like the tornado it was when your mom asked if she could film your ‘first dance’. 

Dinner had been long over and the TV had shut down. In the background, a few different records played until one came on and your mother gasped. 

“Oh, please. Please let me see your first dance. I love this song, and I’ve always imagined seeing you dance to it the way me and your dad do.”

From your side, Javi lifted his hand. It was up to you. 

Looking at your mom’s face, you couldn’t say no. So, you nodded and both stood. Javi started the song from the beginning and turned back to face you. In a matter of moments, you were in his arms, your hand in his whilst your other lay on his arm. You could feel his firm hand at the bottom of your back, holding you up steadily. 

Finally, leaning into each other, you could feel his moustache at the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

That was when you found out Javi could dance. At the very least, much better than you could. He led you around the small section of the floor, your temple’s still touching and for a small moment, you closed your eyes. 

You’d also both forgotten anybody else was in the room other than you two. Breathing, heartbeats, pulse, chemistry. It all became one. 

And just as the song slowed, Javi lifted his head to look at you. It was like there was a new light to you in the fading sunlight. New features he’d never noticed before. The small freckles dotted across your face, probably having surfaced after a day in the sun. The soft streaks of baby hairs framing your face. The arch and bow of your cupid’s bow and lips. The light flush in your cheeks as for a moment, he caught your eyes doing the same thing he was. 

Looking. Gazing. Studying. All to commit it to memory. 

Javier Peña, for as best as he’d known, he’d never been so scared in all of his life. But there was one final thing he wanted to commit to memory, whether it be good or bad. And if he didn’t do it then, he was afraid he never would. So, for the first time with you, he did what he wanted to do because, and he hoped, by the look on your face, you wanted it, too. 

With the final few notes of the song, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was firm, steady, strong and then softer. The kind of kiss that you feel long after it’s over. Silence washed over the room as the record came to an end and you and Javi found yourselves looking at each other, only realising you weren’t alone when your mom gasped. 

“Oh, that was just beautiful.” She stopped the recording. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

You and Javi seemed to step away from each other despite it being the last thing either of you wanted to do in that moment. It wasn’t long after that your mom decided to go upstairs to bed. And once Javi heard the door lock upstairs, he locked his own and took a moment before turning back around to find you. 

But you were already trying to avoid the conversation that came next. 

Javi took his time. You both needed a moment to find clarity. After the faucet had been running for a few minutes, only to be switched off by you as you washed the plates in the bowl of soapy water, Javi stood at the kitchen door. 

He watched you for a moment, wondering what to say. What just happened? I’m sorry? He didn’t mean for it to…be that way? Did you feel it, too? Did you want it, too? Did he cross a line?

Then he realised he didn’t have to say anything at all. 

You felt him before you heard him walk slowly across the kitchen floor and stand by your side. With a gentle hand guiding your arm, he spun you to face him and in the silence, your faces shared a thousand words between each other. 

Javi brushed your hair from your face before gently cupping your face. It took enough time between each of his movements to let you object if you wanted to. You stepped closer into him. 

Then he kissed you. 

Having dropped the sponge into the sink, you felt yourself tumble against him as your own hands came to pull him closer towards you. Things seemed to move slightly quicker than before. His hands moving down your body to eventually lift you up and move you onto the counter top, his fingers pushing their way through your hair as your own pulled him in by his collar to kiss you once more. 

With your legs wrapping around his waist, securing him against you, you let out a small sigh behind your kiss. Javi only chased those small noises more after you made your first one. 

“J-Javi.” You managed to find your voice in between his kisses. “Wait.”

He stopped, forcing himself to pull his lips from yours. And for a moment, all you could hear was his breathing and your heartbeat. Both rapid. Both unsteady. 

“We…we shouldn’t…”

His hands still tangled in your hair and his forehead against yours, he shook his head in agreement. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

All either of you could do was breathe. Slowly. Trying to catch some form of air that was at least a close equivalent to the others. 

Kissing you was like a lifeline, and without you he was dying. 

His eyes finally gazing into yours, he found your own tracing his face, already reminiscing on the kiss, wanting more. 

Kissing him was like life was finally being pushed back into your lungs, letting you breathe clearly for the first time and without him, nothing was in focus. 

“Fuck it.”

His lips on yours again, he began to devour you and your taste. He could feel your hands pulling him closer to you, like if you’d let go of him, you’d drown. 

He needed you more than he wanted to admit. 

But you didn’t want him to hold back. So leaning away from his kiss for a moment, you made sure he focused on you. 

“Bedroom.”

He was still drunk on your kiss. “Javi, I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter. Bedroom.”

His lips curved onto a smirk as he pulled you towards the edge and lifted you up. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you we’re married? Cariño, it’s called making love.”

You laughed and so did he before it was muffled out by another kiss. 

By the time morning rolled around, you found yourself wrapped in Javi’s arms, his scent swirling around your senses, locking it into a memory you’d never forget. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. From the arms wrapped around you, to the soreness in your legs, your body was too happily exhausted to move. 

For the next few moments, you watched as he slept peacefully. His mouth parted slightly, simply looking at his mustache made you blush at the memories from barely a few hours previous. Tracing the curves of his face, you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. 

His arms twitched around you. “Javi, I need to use the bathroom.”

Still half asleep, he returned the next kiss you pressed to his lips before mumbling; “Come back.”

“I will,” you kissed him once more before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Whilst in the bathroom, you picked up the long forgotten towels on the floor and picked up the tossed body washes and shampoo bottles from Javi and your haphazard entry into the bathroom after the first two orgasms before the third. 

However, you must have taken too long because as you stood at the bathroom skin, a newly familiar pair of arms made their way from holding your hips, to cradling around your waist. 

You could feel the hair from his moustache as he kissed your bare shoulder, making his way towards your neck where you leaned back against his chest and placed a hand behind his own neck to hold you steady. 

“Javi.”

One of his hands slowly made its way under your top before running his fingers from the top of your chest, across your breast and down below the waistband of your shorts. 

“I missed you.” His tongue dampened the graze of his teeth against your neck. 

“Javi.”

“Is this okay, baby?”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking against his fingers, chasing the pressure he was beginning to swirl around your clit. You hummed a response. 

“I need your words, baby. Is this okay? Do you want this? Because I can stop.”

You shook your head quickly and wrapped your hand around his wrist before he pulled away any further. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

With his fingers circling your clit and his mouth having free range of your neck, you felt your knees grow weak. “Want me to stop?”

Again, you shook your head. “I need…I need more, Javi.”

“How many, baby?”

“Two, ohh…” Your mouth opened and you threw your head back against his shoulder, reveling in his fingers slipping inside your cunt and his thumb applied pressure to your clit. Then you heard him chuckle. 

“Asshole.”

“You fucking love it, baby.”

You did. You really did. It wasn’t long before Javi could feel your walls pulsing against his fingers, growing tighter for him. And his dick hadn’t even left his pants yet. 

“You’re so fucking wet, cariño. This for me?”

You found the strength to nod. “Just for you, Javi baby.”

But whatever strength or control you had left disappeared as the wave began to crash over you and you chased Javi’s fingers as they pumped deeper and faster inside of you. “Ride ‘em, baby. Take what you want.”

You moaned his name, almost chanting it as you came over his fingers. “Fuck,” Javi growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you felt the ache in your legs, still leaning against Javi. 

“Then maybe you should do it again.”

Sharing a look with Javi, he smirked before biting down on your bottom lip, then kissing it better. Pulling his fingers from inside of you, he slowly spun you around by your hips until you faced him. Once he’d tasted everything he could from your mouth, he teasingly made his way across your jaw, down the length of your neck, under your clothing before pulling your soaked shorts down your legs, leaving your glistening and sensitive cunt for him to see. 

Then he tasted the rest of you. 

Pushing you onto the edge of the sink counter, you white-knuckled the edges in fear of gripping his hair too tight to pull him closer to where you needed him. 

You could feel the burn of his moustache against your inner thighs, panty-line before finally his tongue circled your already sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Want more?”

“Y…yes. Javi, please.” Your hips bucked as you chased the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy. “Fuck, Javi.” You let out a gasp as his tongue dipped inside of you for a moment. “Fuck, right…right there.” With one of your hands tangled in his hair, you pushed him closer in order to taste all of you. 

And just as you leaned back to grant him more access, he pulled back. You whimpered, wanting him back. “Touch yourself.” 

“Javi-”

“I want to see how long you can hold it before I fuck you. Touch yourself.”

So you did. All the while watching him take his sweet time watching you as he pulled down his own underwear and pulled a condom on, pumping himself a couple of times before finally settling closer to you. 

“I want to watch you cum again.” And so he did. 

Filling you with his dick, inch by inch, he felt you stretch around him, swearing as you took him in. And then he took his time with you. Reveling in every needy buck of your hips, chasing his dick before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed you just as much as you were begging for him. 

Moaning his name over and over as your orgasm hit you, Javi watched as you came over his dick, him finishing not long after you did. 

Sweaty and covered in sex, Javi pushed the fallen hair from your face and kissed your lips after the silence had settled away from heavy breathing and racing hearts. “We should get cleaned up.”

Pulling his cock from inside of you, he disposed of the condom before walking towards the shower and turning it on. And over the next forty minutes, Javi’s hands were all over your naked body before his fingers tugged at your hair as the tiles of the floor made indents in your knees. By the time you’d both finished, gotten washed and finally dressed, Javi was changing the sheets as you placed the ones from the night before inside his washer. 

For the rest of the day, Javi rarely left your side.

Going back out to the markets with your mom, his hands were constantly finding ways to touch you. His hand pinching onto the skirt of your summer dress, his fingers grazing against your hip and lower back as he changed from standing on one side of you to the other. Holding your hand around you, his arm across your shoulders, his lips in your hair, on the shell of your ear as he talked to you. And when you’d stopped inside a cafe, he sat next to you, his arm across the back of your chair which practically was sitting in between his legs as his body was constantly turned towards you. 

And when you’d both finally gotten home, your mom saying she was going for a nap, the moment Javi’s door shut, the bags were dropped and your back was against the wall of his hallway, his lips on yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“So have I.”

Then a question fell from your lips. “How are we going to keep this up? At work, I mean.”

“They already think we’re married.” He kissed your neck. 

“I’m being serious, Javi.”

“So am I.”

“Javi, Messina already warned us what would happen if she ever caught us. And that was before we were even…”  A couple? Fucking? Dating? Married?

Javi smiled. “So we keep it a secret.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands off me for more than two seconds. You’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Says the woman whose been eye-fucking me all day. Are you sure you can keep a secret?”

“I can keep a secret.” Then Javi noticed your coy smile. “In fact, I’ve been keeping one all day.”

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed his hand to the dip of your hips. He couldn’t feel anything but fabric. Then it hit him. With his chest flaring and his dick hardening, he stepped closer towards you. 

“Mrs Peña…have you been naked under that dress all day?”

You bit your lip. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

His eyes flicking to the hem of your dress, he looked back up at you before slowly dragging the fabric of its skirt up and bunching it in his hand until he could slip his hand under it. And when he was met with bare skin, he swore. 

“Fuck.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d fuck me all day,” you admitted. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Since you walked out of that fucking bedroom in this dress…I’ve wanted to fuck you in it.”

Pulling him closer to you, your voice turned into a low whisper. “Then you better get on with it, Agent Peña. Before I do it myself.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Capturing your lips on his, his finger coaxed at your pussy, already feeling your wetness build for him. As his fingers began to curl inside of you, you let out a moan before your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and jeans. Javi let out a small whimper as your fingers stroked down his cock, wiping the pre-cum away with your thumb before finally pumping him a few times. 

“Take it easy, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna- fuck.”

With one hand, Javi picked you up where you stood, his fingers digging into your ass before he guided his tip in. Letting out a moan by his ear, you told him to start moving. 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

And he did. 

Fucking you against the wall in his hallway, Javi pulled the top of your summer dress down and began leaving his mark across your collarbone and down the bow of your breast, all the while his cock pumped in and out of you before filling you up with him cum. 

“That’s it baby,” Javi told you as you screamed his name as you rode his dick. Then he watched you come. He’d never get sick of that sight. It seemed to get hotter each time. You begging him for more, your moans, his name falling from your lips as he makes you unravel completely. 

But he wasn’t done with you yet. Pulling out from you, he moved you both down the hallway and towards the sofa where he made you come again before moving into the kitchen where he finally fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter. 

Both of you wished it could have continued like that forever, but sadly after your shower, both you and Javi were interrupted by the jingle of keys in the door as your mom let herself in before you and Javi could continue your heavy make-out session on the sofa. 

But that was something you both had to get used to. 

Interruptions. 

From people banging on the copier room door thinking it was jammed, to people walking back into the office after their lunch breaks. But despite the ever growing need to constantly be touching him, or him touching you, you’d both found subtler ways to show how much you not only wanted each other, but also needed each other. 

From the smaller touches when he always found an excuse to stand beside you, to the ever longing looks you both gave to each other as the other one walked away from the desks. There were crappy cups of coffee always being poured, lunches being made and shared, blankets being used to cover up the one that fell asleep first, the knowing looks when a case load became too much, the soft moments spent after a long day of work just laying together on the sofa watching crappy TV and falling asleep, dancing to slower records on down-days, quick kisses goodbye during lunch or during a stakeout for cases, jealous and warning glares being given to those who tried to flirt with the other, and finally slow Sunday mornings that were spent inside the apartment, neither of you leaving unless for a dire emergency. 

And somewhere between all of that, you and Javi had taken a flight to your home where your family and his watched as you both swore actual wedding vows to each other; your wedding party not realising it was the first time for both of you. 

Maybe it had taken a while for you both to come together, and maybe it wasn’t the most conventional of get-togethers. But it was yours and Javi’s story. One that, the more you thought about it, started off with those softer moments. One that always had, and always would, contain those smaller touches and simple gestures. 

[whosmariaaa]

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 !

college! sukuna was indeed head over heels. he couldn’t stop thinking about you. you and your attitude, the way you didn’t take his shit. and maybe the fact that you were playing hard to get.

you were actually not, because you did not want him at all, and you hated his guts more than anything. especially right now.

“are you actually being for real? sukuna, the project is due in a week! and you haven’t done shit! you told me you would!” you told him in irritation. though you were growing more stressed than irritated. this project was a really big part of your grade, and if this wasn’t done right, you were screwed.

he was looking at your face with a lazy grin, though you doubted he was paying attention to anything you were saying.

“uh huh, just chill out, y/n,” sukuna shrugged, unbothered.

“chill out? i’ve been working my ass off for my part of the project, and you haven’t done a single thing!” you rejoined.

he raised an eyebrow. “are you sure? cause i’ve seen your part of the project, and it’s fucking shit—“

SMACK!

heads turned at the loud noise, but you couldn’t possibly care less. “i’m so fucking done with you! get your shit together! you finish your part of the project in two days, or i’m kicking your ass out!” you snapped before storming out of the library.

sukuna held a hand on the cheek that was starting to go a little red from the hit he just took. he wasn’t angry, or irritated. he just watched you go with a slight smirk.

no one ever dared to hurt sukuna and get away with it. that man was menacing, and could get people begging on their knees quickly.

but you? he let you. honestly, you were the most entertainment he was getting since forever. every single little thing you did out of anger, only made his infatuation for you grow. sukuna loved the thrill he got out of you.

two days later, he told you he finished his part of the project. which took a whole lot of weight of your shoulders, because you were starting to grow grey hairs at this rate.

and honestly, something in you told you to trust him. he had phenomenal grades, after all. so, not until a few hours before the deadline did you decide to check his part of the project.

you regretted it. spelling mistakes, grammar errors, nothing on the paper made sense. it was genuinely terrible. and suddenly, you felt as if you were growing grey hairs again. you called sukuna for nth time that hour, but when it send you to voicemail once more, you took it on yourself to fix this crap.

you spend your entire evening and night in complete stress, trying to fix what you could. and you eventually had to send it in, due to the dead line nearing. anxiety was surging through you. but maybe, the professor took mercy on grading projects.

the next few days, you avoided him altogether. no matter what he did or said, you ignored him and kept walking. you were too anxious about the project’s results to even start a fight with him.

and when your grade finally came in, you wanted to die. a 49%. all that hard work, and for what? and on top of that, now you were failing this class too.

after class you confronted him, angrily. but you struggled to conceal how you really felt about all this. you felt like crying, but you kept it in.

“you look pissed. what’s up, baby?” sukuna asked, leaning down condescendingly.

“what the fuck do you think? maybe the 49% on our project? you said you did your part of the project!” you retorted furiously.

he scoffed, “so? i never said i was going to try. i told you to not expect me to give a shit, didn’t i?” he taunted.

sukuna wasn’t taking you seriously at all. he just looked down at you with his stupid, stupid smirk.

you felt your legs go a little wobbly. you felt like shit, actually. and right now, you couldn’t stop the tears either as they welled up in your eyes.

“you’re a piece of fucking shit, sukuna! i hate you so fucking much! fuck you!” you snapped, your voice breaking slightly.

sukuna went silent for a moment at the sight of the tears pooling in your eyes, “shit, baby. i didn’t think you’d care this much,” he replied, though his tone was slightly less mocking.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you wiped your tears and got out of there. you couldn’t deal with all this anymore. and definitely not with him right now.

sukuna just stood there, with a weird feeling bubbling in his stomach at seeing you cry. he was quiet, with his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“damn. what’cha do? cheat on her?” gojo chimed in, placing his hand on sukuna’s shoulder. but before gojo could react, he slammed him against the wall, and grabbed his collar.

“gojo, i told you to shut the fuck up about her. when the fuck are you going to get a hint? or should i beat the shit out of you first?” he threatened.

he felt himself get pushed off. “calm your ass down,” toji huffed. gojo just scratched his head. he was used to sukuna’s aggression, but not this kind of anger over a girl.

“whatever. watch what the fuck you say, gojo,” he warned firmly. gojo just shot his hands up in defence, “okay, okay. my bad. i won’t start talking about your girl again.”

sukuna’s eye twitched, but he sighed and just let it rest. he still felt like crap about you crying. he didn’t even know why, he made plenty girl cry before. but seeing you cry, made his heart feel heavy.

“fuck is wrong with you?” toji asked, though his tone was calm. sukuna stayed silent for a few moments.

“i fucked up,” he grumbled after a while. toji and gojo exchanged glances, not really sure what to do about all this. sukuna didn’t know either, and that made him feel even more shitty.

──★˙🍓̟!! hi babes!!!! thank you so so so much gor all the love, may God bless u all💞💞 and i’m so sorry i’m very busy with school rn i have a test week so pls forgive me if im a little slow w updates! ill also attempt to do a taglist in part 6, tysm for the patience!

[kissbyoon]

⠀𖼥ৎ⠀“forgetting something” ₍ j.ww ₎

───── ABOUT when you mistake your boyfriend's "aren't you forgetting something" to be a kiss... (it was your ID card)

⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, humour, est. relationship ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf!wonwoo x f!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, kissing, petnames, lowk suggestive if u squint ⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 0.9k (five words from 1k are you kidding me)

A/N: definitely not inspired by wifty ⁠HEHE ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ but omg CAN HE STAY AWAY FROM MILITARY. | @wonkierideul

“Are you sure you don't need me to drive you there?”

Wonwoo asked again for the sixth time, and you turned around with a look. He immediately broke into a grin, backing away with a nod.

“Okay, okay, I got it, baby,” He says, taking a seat on the couch. “I should rest the whole day today since it's a holiday from the company and go to the hangout party with the members without worrying about you.” He recalled each and every thing you had been nagging him about with a smile, earning a giggle from you.

“And! I'll be home a bit late today because we have a meeting with the CEO. Don't forget that and have your dinner on time, okay?” You add, walking over to his side to poke his nose before reaching out to take your bag from the table.

He nods, placing a hand on your hip as he watches you adjust your sleeve. 

“Let me do it for you,” he offers, and you smile before letting him do so. He quickly folds your sleeves and you get ready to leave for work.

Just before you could open the door, Wonwoo calls out, “Wait, aren't you forgetting something?” He asks in slight amusement as he stands near the couch.

You turn around, staring at him for a second before bursting into a giggling mess. “Tsk, tsk, look at you,” you hiss with a stupid smile, causing him to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Huh—”

“Fine, but don't be so obvious, y’know?” You add, walking over to him again. He watches you with genuine confusion, but you just take that as one of his acts and look at him with a sly smile before tiptoeing a little to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Wonwoo paused, blinking.

“I'm gonna go now, don't miss me too much!” You say, waving your hand before turning around to walk towards the door again.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo stares at you with an amused expression, letting out a chuckle when you reach the door.

“Baby,” he called out again, and you turned around with a long, dramatic sigh.

“I can't give you another—”

“You were forgetting this,” he said, waving his hand with your ID card dangling down. His lips curved into a huge grin when he noticed the way you froze on the spot, a harsh wave of embarrassment washing over you and your cheeks turned bright red.

“I—” you pause, biting your lower lip so you wouldn't scream and run out of the apartment. Wonwoo started to make his way towards you, giggling as he observed your expression.

He stood in front of you, letting out a breathy laugh and you could swear you would start crying there. So, you think it's better to run away instead of dealing with this insane amount of embarrassment.

Turning away, you were just about to take your second step out of there when Wonwoo grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, wrapping an arm around your waist with a soft smirk.

“Where to?” He asked, tilting his head to get a better look at your fluttered face. He gently put the ID card around your neck as you avoided his gaze.

“Look at me,” reaching out to cup your cheek, he says, but you hid your face in your hands.

“This is sooo embarassing!!” You squeal, letting out a whine. Wonwoo burst into a chuckle, slowly reaching out to move your hands away from your face.

“Come on, look here,” he urged softly, and you lift your gaze gradually, eyes locking with his. His lips curved into a grin at the sight of your blushing face.

“How am I supposed to go to work now...” you mumbled, jutting out your lips in a pout. Wonwoo frowned, his hands trailing down to wrap around your waist.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“I look so stupid right now, so red like a tomato,” you complain, then frown when he bursts into laughter.

“Hey, you look perfectly fine, trust me.” He reassured, his eyes flickering down at your lips. “And plus, nobody can really guess that you're blushing like this because you mistook your boyfriend's ‘forgetting something’ and ended up embarrassing yourself.”

Wonwoo teased, and the way your eyes widened in disbelief didn't go unnoticed by him.

“Stop!” You whine, smacking his shoulder as he didn't do anything in defense but continued to cackle.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised in between laughs, reaching out to hold your hand so he could prevent you from hitting him again. “I'll drop you off, okay? Let's go now!” Wonwoo says with a giggle, placing his hands on your hips to turn you around as he led you outside, following behind.

“No— the boys will be upset if you don't attend the hangout!” You try to protest, but he quickly locks the front door and walks over to you to press a lingering kiss on your lips.

“They’ll understand, hm?” He says, intertwining his fingers with yours. You stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying your best to glare at him.

“You didn't even bring your car key! I really don't need you to drop—”

Just when you say that, Wonwoo turns around with a smile and waves the car key in his hand—making you pause.

'When did he even grab that…'

You try to think of words to protest, but in vain.

“Now, let me be a good boyfriend and please cooperate as the best girlfriend.” He leans down to peck the tip of your nose, finally causing you to break into a grin.

“Fine, but I'm not gonna be the one who deals with Seungkwan's teasing ass later.” You say, implying that Seungkwan often teases you and Wonwoo when he skips or is late to a hangout—claiming that you both are always busy with each other.

You step forward to head towards his car while he follows behind with a smile, nodding.

“Got it, ma’am.”

KISSBYOON 2025. all rights reserved. @kstrucknet @maestro-net

[l13]

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BEST FRIEND'S DAD!CLARK KENT who has to subtly give you a once over when Jon introduces you as his best friend from uni. Has to try not to smile as you stare at him dreamily. Who feels strangely satisfied when you manage to say “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Bf's dad, Clark, who tilts his head to the side just the slightest bit, and offers you his hand as if you weren't eye fucking him just now, “Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart.”

Bf’s dad, Clark, who always greets you with a big smile when you come over.

Bf’s dad Clark, who holds the car door open for you when he drops you off at your house late at night.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who’s so easy to talk to. Who listens carefully whenever you speak, always holding eye-contact. Who despite his size, is an absolute sweetheart. All wide eyes and dimples.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who the waiter mistakes for your boyfriend when taking your order, Jon conveniently timed to have been in the bathroom. Clark’s eyes widen comically, ears and cheekbones turning a lovely shade of red, as he waves his hands lowly, “Oh we’re not-” “So what’ll you have, honey?” your voice cuts him off, eyes still on the menu as you flip through it. When Clark doesn’t answer, you look up at him, raising your eyebrows and biting back a smile. 

You were enjoying this, he realized.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who can’t look at you in the eyes ever since. Who fidgets when you enter the room, making up any excuse to leave just to avoid thinking about you in that way. Because he does think about you. A lot. How couldn’t he? With your glitter covered eyes, lip gloss stained lips, and short skirts? He was a goner. He’d rather kick a wall than have to watch you reapply your lip gloss for the nth time. 

Bf’s dad Clark who has to pause his reading, glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose when you come over all giddy after a nail appointment, nails painted milky white, bows and other trinkets decorating them. Who has to hum and nod when you show them to him, acting as if he isn’t imagining your pretty hands around his cock. “Mm. Very pretty,” 

Bf’s dad, Clark, who has to watch you put cream on your legs while you’re all watching a movie. As if it's very common to do so in front of your best friend's dad. He thinks it shouldn’t be as erotic as it looked. Clark tries hard to keep his eyes glued on the tv and not stare at the way you sensually rub your hands up and down your thighs and calves.

Bf’s dad Clark who stiffens up, when Jon claims that “your legs are so sticky after though,” because how would his son know that?

Bf's dad Clark, who tosses and turns all night, trying to think back to all your past encounters, trying to pierce together how he missed the fact that you and Jon were dating. Because if you were, he was downright fucked.

Bf's dad Clark, who slowly starts getting mad at his son for not making it more obvious. For not kissing you whenever he saw you, not offering to drive you home, not treating you right. Clark who groans lowly and runs a hand down his face when he realizes that he's jealous of his own son.

Bf’s dad Clark who corners Jon the next morning, asking him all sorts of questions. “We’re obviously dating dad, I thought you knew..?”

Bf's dad, Clark who turns rigid, raising his voice at Jon for the first time in his life, still trying to be quiet for your sake, as you’re still sleeping upstairs. Whose fury isn't pointed to the fact that you and his son were dating, but more so to the fact that Jon didn’t pamper you enough. Didn’t give you any extra attention, didn’t spoil you like you deserved. And poor Jon has to hear his dad tell him to “Be a good boyfriend, I taught you better than that.”

Bf’s dad Clark, who gives his son a pointed look  when you finally come down to eat, yawning as you grab some cereal. Who has to watch his son turn and give you a quick peck on the lips, and then continue eating as if nothing happened. Has to watch you blink twice in surprise before shrugging and going back to your own food. 

Bf’s dad Clark who regrets telling his son to be more physical with you because he almost breaks a glass in his hands when he sees his son hugging you from behind one evening.

Bf's dad Clark, who clenches his jaw when you announce that you're going to leave and Jon jumps up to escort you, and walk you home. Clark who so badly wants to insist that he can take you home. That it's too cold out to walk, that a drive would be better. Clark who keeps his mouth shut instead.

Bf’s dad Clark who wants to curse Jon for inviting you over to their summer house. Clark who has to watch you walk around with your tiny bikini, skin still glistening when you get out of the pool. Clark who clenches his jaw tight and looks the other way when you offer to help Jon put some sunscreen on. 

Bf’s dad Clark who finds you in the kitchen that same night, swallowing hard as he watches you take a bite of a strawberry you were holding, claiming you were craving something sweet. 

Bf’s dad Clark who fucks you right against the counter you were leaning against, who has to hold his hand over your mouth as he circles his hips against you, his cock snug inside your tight cunt. Clark who melts when you give him an open-mouthed kiss, begging him to take you to bed. To his bed.

Bf’s dad Clark who can’t find himself worrying about the creaking of his bed when you’re riding him so well. Clark who hisses, and whose eyes roll back when you graze your nails against his pecs. Who has to fight the urge to bend you over and fuck you till you’re crying, has to remind himself that you’d definitely wouldn't be quiet then, when you’re barely keeping it together now. Clark who pulls you skin tight against him, who loves to feel your moans and whimpers against his lips.

Bf’s dad Clark, who wakes up the next day with you in his arms, swears he’d never slept so soundly in his life. Bf’s dad Clark who presses kisses all over your face, who later fucks you in the shower, and despite not wanting to ruin the moment, has to say something,

“Fuck, we can’t do this again. You’re dating my son, for God’s sake-”

“Clark. Jon is gay.”

oh.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[p1astr81]

hii! i saw you're taking requests and i was wondering if you'd do one for oscar piastri with a reader whos like really affectionate and whos love language is physical touch but maybe she thinks its too much for oscar so she stops like touching him all the time and kind of pulls away? i’m sorry my explanation doesn’t make much sense but i’m sure with your writing it’ll be really good (please make it like really really angsty)

Your first mistake was reading your hate comments under a post about you and Oscar. Taken without your knowledge, the video showed you clung onto Oscar’s arm as you exited a restaurant.

Your second mistake was listening to the comments and believing them.

The seed had been planted, sprouting the idea that so much physical affection wasn’t Oscar. It wasn’t what he wanted and you forced it onto him. Perhaps you even made him uncomfortable.

“You almost ready to go?” He had one hand on the car door, the other was occupied by his phone. He looked back at you with a raised brow in question.

You were busy reapplying your lip gloss. “Yup!”

You walked side by side into the paddock. Strangely, you had yet to take his hand in yours. His hand brushed against yours like an invite. Instead of taking his hand, you occupy your hand with your purse instead.

He noticed, rendered it as strange, but didn’t comment on it.

Your strange habits continued through the day. You didn’t move your chair closer when you sat down. You didn’t kiss his cheek before he got in the car for qualifying, not so much as a hug even. When he qualified on pole, you smiled, but you didn’t hug him. Everything was strange with you. He knew something was up.

As you left for the night, he put his hand on your lower back. Conveniently, you’d dropped your water bottle right after. You crouched down, Oscar’s hand slipping from you. When you stood up, you put some distance between the both of you so that I would be awkward for him to try to resume his hold on you.

This was more than strange. Something was deeply wrong. That became evident when you only pecked his cheek before going to bed.

He’d decided that he would wait for tomorrow. Perhaps it was just an off day.

When you casually dodged his kiss the next morning, he knew it wasn’t just one off day.

He had to clear the air before the race.

He stood in the suite, leaning against a wall located across the room from you. You were singing softly to whatever song was in your head. “Did I do something?” He asked suddenly. No lead up. Just silence and then a bomb.

You put down your straightener, chuckling. “Yeah. You put it on pole and now you’re going to win.”

He shook his head, measured steps crossing the room. He stopped next to you, leaning against the desk you were sat in front of. His hands were in his pockets, virtually relaxed but mentally shaken. “That’s not what I meant.” He adverted his eyes to the window before his gaze found your soft and confused eyes again. “Did I do something to you? Or say something?”

You laughed again, shaking your head.

Oscar could tell the sound was fabricated.

“No. Why would you think that?” You tilted your head.

He sighed, shifting his position against the desk. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Laughing, you tried to dismiss him. “I haven’t been-“

“Yes you have. All day yesterday. You’re usually all over me but yesterday… nothing. Not even a real kiss.”

Chewing on your lip, you picked up your straightener again. He watched as you ran the hot tool through your hair. You still hadn’t said anything. You continued to straighten your hair, flattening three more strips before the silence killed him.

“Will you say something? Please?”

The hot tool was dropped onto the table with a loud clatter. “Maybe I realized I’m too clingy for you.” You only glanced at him, then your eyes trained on the desk. Jaw clenched, breathing measured.

He scoffed, offended at the accusation. His hands left his pockets to cross over his chest. “And who put that idea in your head?” When you stayed silent for too long, he held your face in his hand and forced you to look at him. He softened when he saw your eyes brimming with tears. “Oh. Was it me?”

“No.” You hiccuped, still trying to hold back your tears. “Do you still love me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. “Why would you think—where is this all coming from?”

“Your fans.” You felt the first tear slip. He wiped it away before you got the chance.

“What?”

You hiccuped, more tears falling as the memories of their words echoed. “They- I- you- they said that I’m too clingy and that you obviously don’t like that or me in general.”

He wanted to be angry at people. He wanted to find who they were and tell them off to their faces. But his heart was aching in his chest. “Honey, they don’t know you better than I do. They don’t know me.”

“But-but- they-I saw you. in the- in the video.” You could hardly get your words out, hiccuping like crazy.

He tilted his head and crouched down beside you. “What video?” He was so gentle, so caring.

But you didn’t see any of that through your hysterics. “The video! After we left the restaurant on our date. Someone video’d us and- and you looked to annoyed.”

He took your hands, led you over to the bed to sit you down. “Aw, hon, I was annoyed. But not at you. Never at you.” He shook his head. “They gave us the wrong wine again.”

A sharp exhale left your lips. A sound of disbelief. “What?” Your quiet voice squeaked.

“I didn’t say anything because I hadn’t thought you noticed, and I know you hate correcting people.” He smiled and squeezed your hands. “I love how clingy you are. My day isn’t complete if you’re not attaching yourself to my arm or texting me a million times.” He held your face in the palm of his hand. Your cheek was slick with tears and warm from blush. “I spent all of yesterday spiraling because I didn’t have my koala climbing my arm.”

You laughed at him and found a home in his chest, burying your head there. He stroked your hair and muttered reassurances in your ear, telling you over and over again how he loved you and your clingy ways.

[okasuka]

Fake Dating – Damian Wayne x Reader

Summary: You’ve practically been living at Wayne Manor, acting as Damian’s secondary Oracle and part-time medic when Alfred isn’t available. After a mission, you’re patching up a flustered Damian when he suddenly tells you he needs you to fake date him at school—because some girl won’t leave him alone.

The Batcave was quiet, save for the occasional dripping of water and the steady rhythm of your movements as you patched up Damian’s arm. He was perched on the med bay cot, scowling at the gauze in your hands like it had personally offended him.

“You’re lucky this isn’t deep,” you muttered, pressing the bandage against his bicep. “A little higher, and you’d have needed stitches.”

“Tt. I would have handled it.”

“Uh-huh,” you deadpanned, securing the bandage before reaching for the antiseptic. “Hold still.”

Damian shifted slightly, his shoulders rigid as you dabbed at the shallow cut near his collarbone. You were close—closer than usual—and you could see the way his jaw tensed. He wasn’t making eye contact, which was strange. Damian was always direct, always unwavering.

“You okay?” you asked, raising a brow.

His expression flickered, something uncertain passing over his face before he abruptly muttered, “I need you to do something for me.”

You blinked. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”

There was a pause. Damian exhaled through his nose, as if bracing himself.

“I need you to pretend to be my significant other.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“You—what?”

His ears were pink. Actually pink. Damian avoided your gaze, eyes fixated on some invisible point in the distance.

“There is a girl at school,” he said stiffly, as if it physically pained him to say it. “She refuses to leave me alone despite my clear disinterest. I have concluded that the most effective way to rid myself of her is to make her believe I am already involved in a relationship.”

You stared at him. Then blinked. Then stared some more.

“Damian.” You placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. “You could just tell her ‘no.’ Like, verbally. With words.”

“I have.” His scowl deepened. “She does not seem to comprehend the meaning of rejection.”

“So you want me to be your fake girlfriend?”

He looked at you then, expression composed but the tips of his ears still betraying him. “Yes. Just until she ceases her pursuit.”

Your lips twitched. “And you thought asking me while I was literally sewing you back together was a good time?”

“You are a captive audience,” he said, as if that explained everything.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. I’ll do it. But if I have to fake date you, we’re doing it right.”

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means hand-holding, flirting, maybe even a pet name.” You grinned at the immediate horror on his face. “Oh, relax. It’s called commitment to the bit, Damian.”

“Tt. This was a mistake,” he muttered, but he didn’t take it back.

You tied off the bandage, patting his arm with a smirk. “Too late. You just got yourself a girlfriend.”

Damian sighed. This was going to be unbearable.

Fake Dating – Damian Wayne x Reader

(Part Two)

The second you stepped into Gotham Academy the next morning, you knew this was going to be fun.

Damian walked beside you, his usual composed self—shoulders squared, uniform immaculate, that constant look of disinterest plastered across his face. The only difference today? You were his fake girlfriend. And, judging by the way some students were already glancing in your direction, the news was spreading fast.

“Alright, beloved,” you teased, nudging his arm as you walked through the front gates. “How are we playing this?”

Damian visibly flinched at the pet name. “Do not call me that.”

You grinned. “What? It’s a classic. Do you prefer babe? Sweetheart? Dami-bear?”

He shot you a look so sharp it could cut through steel. “Tt. You are enjoying this too much.”

“You knew what you were getting into,” you said lightly, looping your arm through his, just to mess with him.

His whole body went rigid.

“You have to act natural,” you reminded him, biting back a laugh. “If you act like I just stabbed you in the ribs every time I touch you, no one’s gonna believe we’re dating.”

Damian exhaled sharply through his nose, but he didn’t pull away. Progress.

You continued walking, scanning the halls for any sign of her—the girl who was apparently harassing Damian to the point where fake dating was his only option. It didn’t take long to find her.

Near his locker stood a girl with perfectly curled hair and an expensive-looking manicure, whispering with her friends while occasionally sneaking glances your way. The moment she made eye contact with Damian, her face lit up.

You had never seen Damian look more unamused.

“Here we go,” you murmured, tightening your grip on his arm. “Ready, love?”

“If you do not cease with the pet names—”

“Damian!” the girl interrupted, striding up to him with a dazzling smile. She completely ignored your existence. “Good morning! I was just thinking—”

And that’s when you really committed to the bit.

Before she could finish whatever sentence was about to ruin Damian’s day, you turned toward him, placed a hand on his chest, and, in the sweetest, most obnoxiously affectionate voice you could muster, said:

“Baby, you didn’t tell me you were this popular!”

Damian tensed under your touch, but—bless him—he didn’t pull away. Instead, he placed a hand on your waist (awkwardly, stiffly, like he had never touched a human before), and gave the girl a blank look.

“I am spoken for,” he said simply.

The girl’s expression faltered. She glanced between the two of you, disbelief evident in her eyes. “Wait, you’re dating him?”

You beamed. “Mhm! Isn’t he just the cutest?”

Damian closed his eyes, probably regretting every life decision that led to this moment.

The girl frowned. “But you’re always just… around. Like, you’re not even—”

“Around?” you interrupted with a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, I practically live at Wayne Manor. Didn’t you know?”

The girl’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Damian, to his credit, took the opportunity to put an end to the conversation. “If you are finished, we have matters to attend to.”

And with that, he steered you away, leaving the girl gaping after you.

The second you were out of earshot, you burst into laughter. “I am spoken for?” you mimicked, grinning up at him. “Dami, you sound like a medieval prince rejecting a marriage proposal.”

Damian scowled. “It was effective, was it not?”

“Extremely,” you admitted. “But man, you are so bad at this.”

He huffed. “Tt. This was a mistake.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you teased, nudging him again. “But hey, boyfriend, you’re stuck with me now.”

Damian sighed, long and suffering. “I am going to regret this, aren’t I?”

You just smirked.

“More than you know.”

Fake Dating – Damian Wayne x Reader

(Part Three)

You and Damian barely made it to his locker before a group of guys—some of Damian’s more tolerable classmates—descended on you like a pack of hyenas.

“Okaaaay, hold up.” Colin Wilkes, one of the few people Damian actually acknowledged at school, squinted between the two of you. “Did I hear that right? You two are dating?”

You leaned against the lockers, smiling sweetly. “Yup.”

“Like… real dating?” added Maps Mizoguchi’s older brother, Kyle, who was watching the interaction like it was a live episode of Gotham’s trashiest reality show.

Damian crossed his arms. “Tt. Would I lie?”

Colin raised a brow. “You tell me, dude.”

“Wait, wait, wait—since when?” another guy, Elliot, chimed in. “You two have been best friends forever, and you expect us to believe you’re suddenly a thing?”

You shrugged. “It just happened. Right, babe?”

Damian twitched at the pet name but nodded. “Yes. It was… inevitable.”

Kyle snorted. “What, like fate?”

“Precisely.”

Colin squinted. “So you’re telling me the Damian Wayne—the same guy who once told a girl in math class that ‘romantic advances are an evolutionary weakness’—is dating?”

Damian looked unimpressed. “That statement remains true.”

“Okay, but why?” Elliot pressed. “Like, no offense, dude, but you don’t exactly scream ‘boyfriend material.’ How did this happen?”

You grinned. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”

Colin blinked. “Are you into emotionally constipated guys?”

“I am standing right here,” Damian deadpanned.

Kyle ignored him. “Okay, so since you two are so in love, I gotta ask…” He smirked. “How’d you confess?”

You opened your mouth—

“It was mutual,” Damian cut in before you could spin something ridiculous. “We reached the conclusion that our relationship had evolved beyond friendship and decided to act accordingly.”

The group stared.

“You decided to date?” Elliot repeated.

“Yes.”

“Like it was a business transaction?”

Damian frowned. “Would you rather I describe it as a primal urge?”

Colin choked on his water.

Kyle cackled. “Bro, you suck at this.”

Damian looked seconds away from murder. “Tt. This is absurd.”

Elliot ignored him. “Y/N, what was your perspective?”

“Oh, it was totally romantic,” you said dramatically, sighing. “One night, while I was patching him up, he just looked at me with those big green eyes and said, ‘Beloved, my heart belongs to you.’”

Damian visibly flinched. “I did not say that.”

“Shhh, let me paint the scene.” You leaned into his space, smirking as he stiffened. “He cupped my face, stared deep into my soul, and whispered—”

“Enough,” Damian snapped, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the group before you could say something even worse.

Behind you, the guys burst into laughter.

“Love you too, sweetheart!” you called over your shoulder, just to mess with him.

Damian muttered something in Arabic under his breath, face burning.

You grinned. This was gonna be fun.

Fake Dating – Damian Wayne x Reader

(Part Four)

Damian did not appreciate how much fun you were having with this.

It had been a grand total of four hours since the ruse started, and you had already called him babe, sweetheart, love, and—Gotham forgive him—Dami-bear. His reputation was in shambles.

And worst of all? It wasn’t working.

The girl—Annabelle, or She Who Must Be Vanquished, as Damian had mentally renamed her—was still trying to get his attention. She was persistent, he’d give her that. But you? You were determined.

Which is how he found himself in his current predicament: pressed against the lockers with you standing far too close, eyes sparkling with mischief as Annabelle watched from a few feet away.

“She’s still looking,” you whispered, resting a hand on his chest.

Damian scowled. “This is ridiculous. Why will she not simply accept reality?”

“Because she thinks you’re just saying we’re together to get rid of her.” You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think. “I think we need to be a little more… convincing.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “No.”

You grinned. “Yes.”

And before he could stop you, you grabbed the front of his blazer and pulled him into a kiss.

Damian short-circuited.

It was quick, just a soft press of lips, but he was not prepared. His brain flatlined, his entire body tensed, and for a solid three seconds, he forgot how to function. His hands hovered awkwardly by his sides, and oh, Gotham, why was his heart racing?

You pulled back with a smirk, watching his dazed expression like it was the best thing you’d ever seen. “You okay there, boyfriend?”

Damian’s face was on fire.

“Tt. You are insufferable,” he muttered, averting his gaze in a pathetic attempt to regain his dignity.

But it didn’t matter. Because when he snuck a glance toward Annabelle—who was now standing slack-jawed in utter defeat—he knew you had won.

She scoffed, flipping her hair before stalking off, grumbling something about “psycho couples” under her breath.

You grinned. “Mission accomplished.”

Damian exhaled slowly, willing his heartbeat to calm down already. “I despise you.”

“You kissed me back,” you pointed out.

“I did not!”

“You totally did.”

Damian scowled. “Tt. Let us leave before I am forced to endure more of your foolishness.”

You just smiled, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked down the hall.

And Damian, despite himself, didn’t let go.

Fake Dating – Damian Wayne x Reader

(Part Five)

A few days had passed since The Kiss, and things were… weird.

At school, Damian was as composed as ever—standing by your side, playing the role of the devoted boyfriend when necessary. But the second you left campus, something shifted.

He became distant, avoiding you at the Manor, cutting conversations short, barely even looking at you when you spoke. It was like he had slammed a wall between you overnight, and the worst part? You had no idea why.

It wasn’t until after patrol one night that you finally snapped.

You were in the Batcave, patching up a shallow cut on Damian’s hand while he sat rigidly on the med bay cot, eyes locked on the floor. The silence between you was thick, heavy with words unsaid, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright,” you said, pressing the gauze against his knuckles a little too forcefully. “What’s your deal?”

Damian stiffened. “Tt. I do not know what you mean.”

You scoffed. “Really? You’ve been acting weird since Monday, Damian. Distant. Cold. And I know it’s not just ‘brooding’ because I know you.” You softened slightly, glancing up at him. “Did I do something wrong?”

His jaw clenched. “No.”

“Then talk to me,” you urged, placing a hand over his. “Whatever it is, you can—”

“Stop.”

His voice was sharp, cutting through the cave like a blade. You flinched.

Damian exhaled harshly, pulling his hand from your grasp like your touch burned him. “I do not need your concern, nor your pity,” he bit out. “This arrangement was a means to an end. Nothing more.”

You stared at him.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The words settled between you, cold and cruel, and for the first time in a long time, you felt something crack inside you.

“Right,” you said quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You stepped back, your hands curling into fists as you fought to keep your expression blank. “Got it.”

Then, before he could say another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the Batcave, heading straight for your room.

Damian sat there, unmoving, the weight of his own words crashing down on him like a collapsing building.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, he wished he could take something back.

Fake Dating – Damian Wayne x Reader

(Part Six)

The next morning, Damian was heading toward the car, adjusting his school bag, when Alfred stopped him with a simple, “Miss Y/N will not be attending with you today, Master Damian.”

Damian paused mid-step, his brows furrowing. “What?”

Alfred, ever composed, merely handed him his lunch. “She is unwell.”

Something in Damian’s chest tightened.

“Unwell?” he echoed, gripping the strap of his bag.

Alfred gave him a pointed look. “Unwell,” he repeated. “As in, she has taken the day off to rest. Now, if you do not wish to be late, I suggest you get in the car.”

Damian hesitated, his fingers twitching, but nodded stiffly and left for school.

But he couldn’t focus.

All day, his mind drifted back to you—wondering if you were actually sick or if you had just wanted to avoid him. And if it was the latter…

He deserved it.

The weight of his own words from last night sat heavy on his chest. He had hurt you, pushed you away, all because he was too much of a coward to deal with his own feelings.

He had been distant because—Gotham help him—he wished it was real.

He wanted you to call him ridiculous pet names. He wanted to hold your hand like it was second nature. And that kiss? He hadn’t meant to kiss you back—but he had. Because deep down, he wanted nothing more than for you to be his.

And instead of confronting that, he had lashed out.

The second the final bell rang, he was out the door, barely waiting for the car to stop before heading straight to your room.

He knocked once.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Still nothing.

Sighing, he took a breath and opened the door.

You were curled up on your bed, staring at the ceiling, bundled under a blanket. You didn’t even bother looking at him. “Go away, Damian.”

He swallowed. “No.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Of course.”

Damian stepped further into the room, his usual confidence replaced by something… uncertain.

“I…” He hesitated, fists clenching at his sides. “I was an ass.”

You snorted. “No kidding.”

He exhaled sharply. “Tt. I am trying to apologize, Y/N.”

Silence.

You finally turned to look at him, eyes tired. “Why, though?”

He tensed. “Because I regret it.”

You sat up slightly, arms wrapping around yourself. “You regret it?”

He shut his eyes for a moment, then met your gaze.

“No. Not it. I regret… lying.” He clenched his jaw, his voice quieter now. “I was distant because… I wish it were real.”

You blinked, breath hitching. “What?”

“I want it to be real,” he admitted, his hands gripping the fabric of his blazer. “I want you.”

A beat of silence.

Then, before he could say anything else, you were in front of him, eyes wet with unshed tears as you grabbed his face and kissed him.

This time, he kissed back immediately. No hesitation.

His hands came up to cup your cheeks, warm and sure, and when you finally pulled away, breathless, you were smiling through your tears.

“Took you long enough,” you whispered.

He huffed out a small laugh, pressing his forehead to yours. “Shut up.”

You grinned. “Make me.”

So he kissed you again.

Fake Dating – Damian Wayne x Reader

(Final Part)

The next morning, when Damian arrived at school with you by his side, something was different.

For one, he looked happy.

Not his usual smug, I’m-better-than-you smirk, but a genuine, real smile—the kind that softened his sharp edges, made his eyes brighter. And more importantly? He was being blatantly affectionate.

Which, for Damian Wayne, was unheard of.

You had barely stepped into the building before he casually pulled you against his side, an arm draped around your waist like it belonged there. And if that wasn’t enough to make people gawk, the way he looked at you—soft, like you had personally placed the stars in the sky—was definitely causing a scene.

“Okay, what the hell,” Colin muttered as you both approached the lockers, watching as Damian adjusted your bag strap for you like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Since when are you all… clingy?”

Damian merely raised a brow, unimpressed. “Since when is it your concern, Wilkes?”

Colin pointed aggressively. “See?! That! You’re, like, content. That is not normal.”

Kyle Mizoguchi strolled up beside him, nodding. “Yeah, you smiled earlier. A real one. I almost called the paramedics.”

Elliot scoffed. “I knew the fake-dating thing was sus. You guys totally liked each other this whole time.”

You grinned, leaning against Damian’s shoulder. “Guilty.”

Colin stared between you. “Wait. So this is, like, real now?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Clearly.”

“Okay, but how?” Kyle pressed, crossing his arms. “Because last time I checked, Damian sucked at emotions.”

“He still does,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “But he’s learning.”

Damian huffed, but his arm around you tightened slightly. “Tt. I despise all of you.”

“Sure you do, lover boy.”

Before Damian could threaten bodily harm, Annabelle—the same girl who had been pestering him for weeks—walked past, glancing at you both.

She paused for a moment, observing the way Damian was practically wrapped around you, before rolling her eyes and walking away without a word.

You smirked. “Mission successfully accomplished.”

Damian hummed, watching her disappear down the hall before turning to you, eyes warm. “Indeed.”

Then, in front of everyone, he kissed your forehead.

Audible gasps.

Elliot looked like he was about to faint.

Colin smacked Kyle’s arm. “Dude.”

Kyle shook his head, defeated. “I have to text Maps.”

Damian ignored them, pressing his lips briefly to your temple before pulling you closer, satisfied.

You just laughed, heart full.

And as the school buzzed with whispers about Damian Wayne and his girlfriend, you simply held onto him, knowing that—for once—none of it was an act.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

you shouldn't be (down here with me)

sequel: you shouldn't be (up here alone)

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

Rating: M (for mature, nonsexual content)

Notes: This popped into my head this morning and wouldn't leave me alone so here you go; not beta read.

Warnings: Reader has suicidal thoughts; reader has a breakdown; Jack Abbot's A+ Coping Skills; Jack Abbot's insistence in eye contact; canon-typical medical chat; bed sharing

Summary: When you're almost shot at work, your body snaps into autopilot as your mind goes into overdrive. Jack has always recognized parts of himself in you—he knows a mind teetering on the edge when he sees one.

I was gonna let him do it

"Another four of dilauded."

I was gonna let him do it

Your movements are automatic. You can feel the nervy glances thrown to you every few seconds. You know they're all waiting for you to crack, to say that you need a minute, to sub in for you so you can rip off your PPE, run to the bathroom, lose it.

I was gonna let him do it

You can't blame them—you had a gun pointed at your head half an hour ago. They don't know that you'd almost been resigned to it in that moment.

I was gonna let him do it

"Call surgery, let them know he's stabilized."

You turn, pick the phone up, dial, pause, relay the message.

I was gonna let him do it

--

"You alright?" Ellis asks as you pull your bloody PPE off, tucking it into the in by the door. You shrug, nod, hold your hand out for the spray of purell from the wall-mounted dispenser as you head for central. You pointedly ignore North Two, where the man is being held as the cops talk to him.

"Doing okay, champ?" It's Shen this time, and his use of 'champ' garners him a sidelong glance and a raised brow. He takes your muted wrath in the spirit with which it's meant, holds both hands up in easement before he skirts around you to finish filling out a chart.

You stop at your computer, leaning over it logging and eyeing the results of a blood test on a case earlier in the shift. You feel someone stop beside you, figure that they'll move on their way, that they're waiting for someone to clear before they move again.

I was gonna let him do it

When the presence lingers, you don't have to look up to see who it is. You know that a simple nod will send him on his way for at least a few minutes, but you don't think you can look at him, not right now.

"Something I can do for you, Dr. Abbot?"

Your smart question is met with silence, and you pull in a deep breath through your nose. You brace yourself before you pull yourself up to your full height, meeting his eye.

You know immediately that it's a mistake.

Jack is looking at you the way he looks at a troubling case—discerning, dissecting; trying to pinpoint where the pain is, what fix he can apply, prescribe.

"You're not sending me home." It's meant as a request, but it comes out as a plea. You know that your firmness missed the mark when his head tips to the side, just a little. His eyes dart to North Two, hold there for a moment.

"Tell me what you need."

"To be here," You insist, "To work." To not think about it

A short nod, just enough to let you know that you're good to get back to your job. You bow back over your computer, expect Jack to leave. But—

"If you change your mind—"

"I won't." You're too tired to be embarrassed by the fact that you answered too fast. And as Abbot turns away, you just catch on his sigh, his mutter of, "No, you won't."

--

When his hand lands on your lower back on your way out of the ER, you figure he's just keeping you moving—maybe to sop you from turning around and making this shift a double, or to help you avoid the couple of news vans and reporters that have pulled up.

You let him steer, even as that steady pressure keeps up for block after block. You don't even realize where you are until Abbot stops, fishes into his pocket for a set of keys. You look up at the unfamiliar door, mind racing as Abbot unlocks it. He turns to you, holds it open, waits.

You should tell him off. What the fuck was he thinking, bringing you back to his place like some stray puppy? Never mind the fact that this man is your boss, that this is wholly inappropriate.

You should go back to your apartment, shower, get into bed. Maybe schedule an emergency appointment with your therapist.

But you also know that you probably shouldn't be alone right now. Your apartment will be too quiet; your head will be too loud. That was half the reason you'd insisted on staying at work. You glance down the block, consider, then slide past him and step inside.

--

You take your time looking around—eyeing the books, the mail, the photos, the knick knacks—the little things that make somewhere home. You turn back to Jack just in time to see hm changing his shoes, putting a high-backed house shoe on where his boot usually covers his prosthetic.

Neither of you speak as you put your bag down and he takes your jacket. He disappears down the hall of the apartment, returns with a stack of fabric. You take it, cataloguing a towel, a washcloth, a pair of sweatpants, a shirt.

"First door on the left. Put your clothes in the hamper in there, I'll wash 'em." He nods toward the hall. "Go on."

--

You expect yourself to break down the second the warm water hits your skin. But as you stand in the steam, the toll on your body takes precedent. Your head is pounding; your feet are throbbing; your back and neck ache.

I was gonna let him do it

You draw in a deep breath, bracing your hands on the wall to ground yourself.

I almost let him do it

Your jaw tightens, stomach churning as you think back.

Gun muzzles were always described as cold, but this one was warm—probably from being tucked against the man's body. You can still feel the weight, the press of it, the slight waver and brush as his hand had shook. You can hear the click of the safety.

Your mind had gone quiet in that moment.

You'd just leaned in, and told the man that he'd only be making your shift better.

It had been enough to shock the both of you.

It had caught him off-guard long enough for you to try and disarm him, to call for security as the the two of you had struggled, sending the gun skittering under the bed as the treatment bay filled with security, fellow residents. Ahmad had the guy in a headlock in seconds; Abbot was between you and them before you could blink. When he'd asked you what had happened, all you'd managed was to point toward the bed, to say, "Gun."

The cops had tried to give admitting shit for it, but you'd waved them off, insisted, "He didn't seem—When he came back, he wasn't like that. I was trying to assess him. I must've moved too fast, he freaked. They couldn't have known, they didn't do anything wrong, so don't—don't."

Shen had tried to talk you into going home; Ellis had bombarded you with questions. Abbot told them to back off. He hadn't asked you if you were alright; he hadn't tried to make you go home, either.

"Where are you going next?" He'd asked. You'd just nodded toward the board, answered, "Hyperkalemia, South Three," and gone on your way.

--

You can smell coffee when you step out of the bathroom. You glance back in, making sure you clothes are safely tucked into the hamper before heading back into the living room. Jack passes you on the way, hands you a tv remote, says, "Mugs are on the counter."

"Thanks."

You get yourself a cup of coffee, tuck yourself into the corner of his couch. You consider the remote for a moment before setting it on the coffee table.

I was gonna let him do it...Wasn't I?

Were you? What the hell would that have done to everyone around you? Were you so far gone that you hadn't thought about how it would effect everyone else in the department? What would the patients have done when they'd heard the pop? You know your fellow doctors would've come running—what if he hadn't stopped with you?

Your lower lip wobbles. Tears prickle at your eyes, and the well of panic and fear and resignation that you'd been waiting for spill over. You sit with the mug of coffee in your hands, letting go to swipe at tears and sniffle every few seconds.

You've calmed by the time Jack comes back out. You know that you look hellish; your burning eyes must be red-rimmed, bloodshot. He sits down on the other end of the couch, nods toward the tv.

"Nothin'?"

"Feel free," You croak. Jack huffs, picking up the remote and turning it on. You listen to the tv as he flips through a few channels. You glance between it and him a couple of times.

"You're not gonna try to get me to get some sleep?" You ask.

"Do you want to sleep?"

"God no."

"Okay," Jack gives a small shrug. "I can never turn it off right after a shift."

"...Huh."

"What?" He frowns, glancing toward you.

"Just uh...Implies that you're ever able to turn it off...At all."

A smile unwittingly pulls at your lips as Jack rolls his eyes, turning back to the tv. You lean back against the couch, scrubbing your hand across your eyes. The sounds of a baseball game make you pick your head up, brow furrowing as you squint at the tv.

"There's a game on a eight in the morning?"

"I recorded it."

Your mouth forms a small 'o' as you nod.

"We can watch something else," Jack adds.

"No. No, this is good."

--

You don't focus much on the game. Now and again, the tears flow, and you let them run quietly until they ebb. You dab them with your borrowed shirt sleeve.

Jack manages to wait until the seventh inning stretch before he asks:

"You talking to anyone?"

"I have a therapist."

"You speak to 'em regularly?"

"Mhm."

"They know about this?"

"About what?"

When he doesn't answer, you glance toward him. You expect open reproach, but Jack watches you with patience—and maybe a little pity. You push a sigh through your nose as you turn back to the tv.

"I talk to her about the day to day stuff, you know, not the...Grippy sock stuff."

"So you don't think about this every day."

"No."

Jack hums; you see him nod in your periphery.

"I had a bad day," You hurry to add, "We all have them."

"Not bad enough to tell someone threatening to shoot you that they're about to make your shift better."

Your head snaps to Jack, stunned—you'd omitted that from your report. But he just tips his head, shakes it again.

"I was one exam room over. I put two and two together when you pointed out the gun."

A lump forms in your throat as you burn with shame and embarrassment.

"I didn't—" It bursts out of you as the tears well again. "I wasn't—No one was supposed to know—"

Jack's across the couch in a second, pulling you into his chest as you sob. His hand curls around the back of your neck, thumb sweeping your nape as you shake against him. You feel his breath against your hair; you think you feel the pressure of a kiss, but it's gone as soon as you register it.

"C'mon." It's a soft urging as you slowly calm.

"Where 'm I going?" Your tongue feels heavy; your voice is thick from your crying.

"To get some sleep."

"I'll sleep here."

"You'll get better rest in a bed."

"I'm not taking your bed, Jack."

"You'll be more comfortable."

"I don't care. They need you in working at the Pitt."

Jack's hand slides around your neck to gently grasp your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"We need you, too." His hold on you stays firm as you try to look away, bu he won't let you. He gives a small nod, searching your eyes. "I need you. Okay?"

You muster a small, short nod, sniffling.

"I'm still not taking your bed."

He sighs, but it doesn't stop the smile growing on his lips.

"Stubborn little so-and-so," He mutters before pushing himself off of the couch, holding a hand out to you. "Come on."

You take it, letting him lead you down the apartment hall again. You take a cursory look around his bedroom as you had his living room a few hours ago. You climb ungracefully into the neatly made bed, snuggling under the covers.

Jack takes a moment longer, drawing the blackout curtains closed, leaving only his bedside lamp to light the room. You roll onto your side, tucking your hands under your head, watching the play of his back muscles beneath his shirt as he leans down, removing his prosthetic and massaging the skin there for a moment.

He glances back and gives a small smile when he spots you watching him.

"All set?"

"Not gonna read me a bedtime story?"

He snorts, reaching out and shutting off the lamp before shuffling under the covers himself.

"Keep it up and you're sleeping on the couch."

You smile into the darkness as he settles down beside you. You can feel him watching you—maybe waiting for you to fall apart again, to offer reassurance.

"...Sorry I cried on you," You mumble.

"I prefer it to having a patient pee on me."

"Oh, well in that case—happy to oblige."

Your eyelids flutter as his hand smooths over your cheek. "Get some sleep."

"Mmkay."

You hold your breath as his hand slides down your cheek, over your shoulder, trailing down your arm. As his fingers skim across yours, you impulsively catch hold of his hand. You're certain he'll give your hand a squeeze before pulling away, but Jack goes still, and you fall asleep with your fingers tangled together.

--

"Hungry?"

You nod, shuffling closer to the table where a pizza box is laid out on his small table.

It had been strange to wake up alone in a bed that wasn't yours, and it had taken a few moments to remember where you were, and how you'd gotten here. Your freshly washed clothing had been neatly folded and waiting for you when you woke up, but you'd stayed in your borrowed clothing.

"You up long?" You ask, sitting at his table.

"Mm," He shrugs. "A bit."

You narrow your eyes slightly, fishing your phone out of your pocket to eye the time.

"How long was I asleep?"

"You got a good five hours."

You grunt, taking a slice leaning back in your seat, muttering, "New weekly record."

"What do you usually do when you can't sleep?"

"I don't know. Read?"

"You need some new hobbies."

"11-8, we've got a report of an assailant with a knife–"

You glance over as Jack hurries to stand, watching him go into the living room and switch something off. Your brows raise as he comes back, amused by the way he studiously avoids your eye and settles back in.

"...Was that a police scanner?" You ask knowingly. His answering grunt is enough, and you stifle a laugh. "So let me get this straight: you hang out listening to the police scanner like you're fricking Batman, but I need some new hobbies?"

"Alright."

"Are you actually fighting crime when you're off shift? It would explain your go-bag."

"I like to be prepared."

"Uh-huh." You smile as Jack shakes his head, picking at a piece of pepperoni on his slice. "Thanks for letting me crash."

"Sure. You needed sleep."

"I mean...I mean crash-crash."

"Just glad you came in."

"You didn't think I would?"

"Wasn't sure." Jack takes a bit, leans back in his seat. You don't have to look to know that he's watching you; to be able to feel him winding up. You figure you're going to get a speech, but—

"Tell me next time you feel like that."

You wince, wind up to argue, but Jack holds a hand up to stop the argument.

"I don't need to know what you're thinking word-for-word. But tell me if it's getting...You know."

"Scary?"

"Does it feel scary?"

You consider it, picking at the crust on the slice. "...Last night did."

"A man put a gun to your head. That would scare anybody."

"...Yeah." You draw in a deep breath. "I'll tell you if you tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"When you're thinking about going to the roof." You think for a moment that you've gone too far; Jack's brows pop up, jaw muscle ticking as he clenches it. You wait for him to tell you that you've overstayed your welcome, o give him back his clothes, take your half-eaten slice and get out.

But instead he leans across the table and holds his hand out. Deal.

You take hold of his hand, pump it once, and you both settle back to finish eating.

--

"You coming in tonight?"

You give him a knowing glance as you pull your jacket on, and he smiles, nodding.

"I figured you would," He adds, "Never hurts to ask."

"I guess."

"You could take the day. Everyone would understand."

"I need to get back in there."

"Exposure therapy."

"Something like that."

You pick your bag up, slinging it over your shoulder. "I know I said it before, but thank you. Seriously. I don't, uh..." You trail off, looking around his entry way. "I don't know what the last few hours would've looked like if I'd gone home."

Jack closes the gap between you, tipping his head to catch your eye, and smiling when you do.

"Anytime."

And from anyone else, you'd think they were just trying to console you, but in that moment, you know that he means it. You nod, reaching out and giving his arm a gentle squeeze and a pat before turning away.

"See you in a couple'a hours."

sequel: you shouldn't be (up here alone)

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen

 ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; 

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[maybanksprincess]

im your baby

WARNINGS: a little angsty, fluff towards the end, cussing, mentions of sophia, insecurity, reassurance, alcohol consumption, suggestive-ish, mentions of marriage.

lias note — requested by my lovely mootie @rafenroostersgirl, this ask was so amazing and I loved writing about it! im not the best at angst so please excuse any mistakes :( thank you so much for the request. go read her ask here!

pairings: crybaby!reader x rafe cameron

Rafe came to the bar to get a little tipsy and forget about his problems for a while. Ward had been up his ass for what felt like the longest, he had plenty of contracts at home waiting for him to sign, lots of business deals to seal, and on top of everything, he had to deal with your clinginess.

It was very often that you'd get clingy and always want to be around him, but he was a busy man, he'd never dealt with anyone wanting to cling to him, so it was difficult to adjust to. He was used to always being alone, or too busy to think about anything else but what he was working on.

This whole relationship thing was new to him, so naturally he isn't a very touchy-feely guy, and wants his own space, but you were the exact opposite. You always wanted hugs or attention, constantly pulling on his arm or clinging to his side.

he was honestly used to hooking up with girls and leaving the second after, until he met you. Something about you struck his interest, something he couldn't ignore. But geez, no one told him how exhausting it was to have a girlfriend.

On top of everything, he would get strange glances, and cruel words spread over the island about him all because he's dating a Pogue. no kook dates a Pogue. Out of everyone on the island, you'd sort of figure Rafe would be the one to be telling someone else that. But no, he was actually the one in love with a Pogue. Someone who came from the cut. How embarrassing for him....

as he's lost in his thoughts, he's suddenly interrupted by a sweet voice coming from behind the counter. He puts his drink down on the table, his movements slightly sluggish from the bit of alcohol he'd already consumed. he tilts his head up to look at her, taking in her toothy smile, and bartender uniform that she has on.

his thoughts are interrupted once more when she looks down at him, speaking softly "are you okay?" she asks, with a gentle and concerned look, while whipping up a drink for another customer sat at the bar.

he nods his head vigorously, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. he peels his eyes back open and look up at her behind the counter, "yeah 'm fine. jus' a real shitty night." he says, lifting the cup back to his lips.

she tilts her head, gently trying to press the issue, seeing that he was stressed and upset. "Do you want to talk about it?" she says, picking up the cleaning supplies for the counter. his eyes study her, watching as she cleans off the counter, his pupils dilated.

he ponders on the question in his drunken mind for a moment before replying, his words slightly slurred. "yeah, yeah. can i get another one of these though?" he says, raising his glass.

she nods, grabbing the glass out of his shaky hand, pouring the alcohol into it, waiting for him to speak when he's ready. after a few moments, the buzzed blonde lifts his head again, looking up at her.

"My girlfriend, she's just so annoying..." he starts, "I mean she always wants to be next to me, huggin' me and shit." he says, waving his hand and rolling his eyes. he snatches the half empty glass, bringing it to his lips once more, taking a long sip, his words slurred, and voice unsteady.

he swallows the liquid with a loud gulp, turning to narrow his eyes at the brunette once more. "im not used t' that, y'know? its all new to me..." he says, a hint of vulnerability behind his words.

---

Rafe had been ignoring you for a few days now, figuring out ways to end the conversation faster, trying to avoid your affectionate gestures, staying out later, being too busy with work to hangout, it was starting to make you feel like he was seeing someone else.

you looked at his shared location, driving to the location it showed to you. taking a deep breath, you step out of the car, entering the crowded bar. you fiddle with your hands shyly as you walk around to find the buzzed man.

When you finally spotted him, you almost felt relieved, until you saw him talking to the pretty brunette behind the counter, her smile making your insides churn. You came to a halt, hesitating for a moment, before continuing to walk over to him.

you reach out with shaky hands, tapping his shoulder softly, the familiar feeling of the tears starting to form in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

He sees the tears forming in your eyes and he immediately feels a sense of protectiveness and guilt, pulling you to his broad chest, giving you a hug the best he can in his drunken state. he knows better than to say anything, so he waits for you to speak.

"Are you seeing someone else?" you hiccup through the tears, not daring to bring your head away from his chest, soaking his shirt with your salty tears. he shushes you softly, cradling your head like you were the most precious baby in the world.

"no, no, no, hey, 'm not cheating." he slurs, the strong scent of alcohol on his breath making your nose turn up in disgust, but he doesnt seem to realize.

the tears continue to spill looking from him to the lady pouring drinks for people, silently sizing her up, figuring out how she was better than you. Rafe grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head so he can look you straight in the eye.

even if he was drunk, he really loved you and he wouldn't cheat. no matter how sensitive, clingy, impatient, and poor you were, he knew who his girlfriend was. And for you he was willing to try and change his ways.

he grabs your hand in his bigger one, intertwining his fingers with yours, leading you out of the bar and to his car that costed more than your life.

he cups your cheek in his large hand, the coolness of his ring hitting your damp skin as he looks down at you with soft, vulnerable eyes that are reserved for only you. "Baby you gotta believe me when I say I only want you." he pleads, using the pads of both his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

you sniffle and nod, soaking up his reassurances, and leaning into his soft touches. you knew despite rafe's rough exterior, he was trying to change. and you wanted to be there for him.

"I know..." you mumble softly, pulling him into a tight hug, making up for all the lost time. "Just promise you won't try to hide your feelings anymore. when things get bad at home, you can talk to me."

"i know," he says on the verge of his own tears. "Which is why I wanna marry you... I wanna be with you the rest of my life." a few tears fall from his blue eyes as he speaks.

he pulls away from the hug to slip his gold signet ring off his finger, staring at it for a moment before grabbing your left hand, slipping it onto your ring finger.

"I don't have a wedding ring on me right now," he chuckles in between his happy, drunken tears, "but for now, I want you to have this." he says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the ring on your finger, his lips lingering for a few moments.

you open your mouth to say something, but you didn't know what to say. you pull him into another tight embrace, sighing softly in relief of being in his arms again, admiring the ring on your finger that was once on his.

"I love you so much, Rafe." You say, even though you could barely speak through the intense emotions that were flooding through your veins.

"I love you too, sweetheart. and I'm gonna be the man you need, the man that you deserve. you hear?" he says, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, picking you up with ease, pressing kisses to your neck.

a mischievous grin spreads across his face, nibbling on your neck. "gotta bring y' home and make it up to you. huh baby?" he grins.

[goyardgoyangi]

𐙚 agora hills pt. 3 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⌗ pairings: suguru x reader

⌗ summary: you grew up in his orbit, your best friend’s older brother, always just out of reach. he was cool, unreadable, and never paid you much attention… or so you thought. but college changes things. and now guys are noticing you. he says he’s just looking out for you, that he’s being protective, but the way he touches you says otherwise. one night, one mistake that doesn’t feel like a mistake, and suddenly everything is different.

⌗ word count: 1.5k

♥ pt.3 ♥ masterlist ♥

You’ve been avoiding Suguru Geto for three weeks.

Which is hard to do, considering he’s your best friend’s older brother, and he’s been in and out of the apartment more often now that he’s wrapping up his final semester.

He’s almost gone. Degree practically in his hands. Full-time job lined up— some engineering firm downtown with sleek office floors and smart people doing what smart people do. The kind of job that means he won’t be around much longer.

Which is perfect, really. Ideal.

Because maybe once he’s out of the picture, you’ll finally stop remembering how it felt to have his hands on your waist in the dark. Or how his voice sounded when he whispered your name, all whiny and wrecked, like it meant something.

It didn’t, though. It couldn’t.

You’re just his little sister’s friend.

And it was just one night. An error in judgment. A mistake.

A big, stupid, why-did-I-think-this-wouldn’t-be-weird mistake.

“Still stuck on that assignment?” your best friend asks, peering over your shoulder at your calculus notes.

You slam the textbook closed, defeated. “I hate math.”

She laughs. “You need help.”

“I know,” you groan. “But no one in my class gets it either, and the TA ghosted me, and— ugh, whatever. I’ll just thug it out.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then:

“Suguru’s good at calc.”

Your spine stiffens. “Don’t.”

“I’m just saying—”

“No.”

“I think he’d—”

“I said no, okay?”

She raises her hands, backing off, but not without a knowing look. “Fine. Just thought I’d offer. He’s on campus tomorrow anyway.”

You don’t answer. You’re already drowning in the memory of the way he looked at you afterward— half-shocked, half-silent, like he couldn’t believe what just happened either.

You haven’t talked since.

Not really.

So when your phone buzzes later that night and his name lights up your screen, your heart goes completely still.

You stare at the message.

Short. Neutral. Like nothing’s wrong. Like you didn’t once fall apart on his cock, his cum filling you until you could barely remember your own name.

Need help with calc?

Three dots appear.

Disappear.

Then come back.

Just calc.

You press your lips together, eyes scanning the words like they might rearrange into something more honest. But they don’t.

And you already regret saying yes.

Because the second you see Suguru waiting by the steps outside the student union— tall, lean, black hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms like he’s trying to look casual— you feel the panic set in.

You said yes because you needed the help.

Not because you wanted to see him again. Not because part of you misses the weight of his hands on your waist. Not because—

It’s not just the way he looks (annoyingly hot, per usual) or the way he straightens when he spots you. It’s the way he smiles— small, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to anymore.

You stop a few feet away. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, long fingers threading through his hair. “Brought you a drink. Didn’t know what you liked, so I went with something pink.”

He passes you the cup, your fingers grazing his. It’s stupid, really, how something so small makes your face heat up instantly.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“Of course.”

The library is quiet in the way that makes your heartbeat feel loud.

You and Suguru take a seat at one of the back tables— hidden away between the towering shelves, tucked beneath a flickering overhead light. You’ve sat here a million times with your best friend. It’s never felt this small before.

He pulls his chair closer than necessary. Opens your textbook without asking. His fingertips graze the margin of the page like he’s easing his way into something more delicate than derivatives.

“So,” he says, pen in hand, “what’s killing you?”

“Everything after series and sequences.”

His mouth twitches like he wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead, he nods slowly and leans in.

And God— he’s close. So, so close.

His voice drops as he starts walking you through the steps, smooth, serious, and painfully focused. He’s always sounded like this when he explains things— like every word is weighed and placed intentionally. You never noticed it before. Or maybe you did and pretended not to.

But now?

Now you can’t stop noticing.

The curve of his mouth when he says “converges.”

The way his brow furrows in concentration.

How the longer strands of his hair fall forward when he leans closer, like it’s trying to graze your cheek.

He’s explaining something, but you can barely hear him over the warm, woodsy scent of his cologne and the heat of him sitting too damn close.

“You still with me?” he murmurs.

You blink. Fuck. His eyes are on you now— forcing you to really look at him, not just steal glances from the side.

You’re trying. You really are. But after hours of formulas and boxed-in equations, your brain’s fried.

Suguru’s been patient, too patient, if you’re honest.

You groan. “Ugh. I’m not built for this.”

Suguru chuckles. “You’re doing fine.”

“No, I’m not,” you mutter, leaning back and stretching your arms over your head. “I wish I had, like, a hot personal tutor or something. Someone pretty who just sits beside me and explains everything and doesn’t make me want to throw my textbook out the window.”

You say it without thinking. Offhand. Harmless.

But then you feel him pause beside you.

You glance at him.

Suguru’s jaw is tight.

He’s still looking at your notebook, pen motionless in his hand, but you can see the little twitch in his brow. The flicker of something restrained in his throat when he swallows.

“What,” you tease, nudging his arm, “jealous?”

He finally looks at you. Straight-faced. Dry tone. “I am your personal tutor right now.”

“Yeah, but you’re not—”

You stop yourself.

Too late.

You don’t even finish the sentence, but he raises an eyebrow anyway. “Not what?”

You pretend to focus on your page, suddenly very invested in the difference between divergence and convergence. “Nothing.”

But his voice drops, lower, a little slower. “Not hot?”

You glance at him— and he’s looking right at you now, eyes half-lidded, corners of his mouth barely curved, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Your throat feels dry. “That’s not what I meant.”

He leans in just slightly. Not close enough to touch, but enough to tilt the air between you.

“Okay,” he says. “But just so we’re clear… if you did have a hot tutor—hypothetically— you’d be paying attention to anything but calc right now.”

Your stomach flips.

You open your mouth to say something. Anything.

But then his pen taps the textbook.

“Page 214,” he says, like he didn’t just throw your brain into complete disarray.

You stare at him.

He smirks. Barely.

And somehow, you're more distracted than ever.

You try to focus.

You really do.

But your mind’s a mess now, numbers and symbols smearing together behind the sharp curve of his jaw, the soft shadows beneath his lashes.

He hasn’t brought it up again… yet.

But then—

“So,” he says casually, spinning your pencil between his fingers, “what exactly qualifies someone as a ‘hot tutor,’ anyway?”

You look up from the problem you’ve been pretending to solve for the last five minutes. “Oh my god. Let it die.”

“I’m just curious,” he says, grinning now, fully leaning into it. “For academic reasons.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re literally so annoying.”

“Is it the voice?” he muses. “Because I have been told my voice is kinda sexy. Like, could probably convince you to join a cult.”

You groan, dropping your head dramatically onto the table. “This is bullying.”

He leans in, resting his chin on his hand, voice dropping to a low murmur. “I mean… if you ever did get a hot tutor, you’d let him sit this close, right?”

You look up slowly. His face is inches from yours.

“You’re unbearable,” you say, heart hammering in your chest.

He smiles wider, but there’s something softer beneath the smugness now. Something warm.

“You didn’t say no,” he murmurs.

You stare at him. “Suguru.”

“Hm?”

“Stop flirting.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “I’m just trying to meet the academic standards you set for me.”

You glare at him, but your lips twitch despite yourself. He sees it. Of course he does.

“Besides,” he adds casually, going back to your notebook like the conversation never happened, “you already called me hot. It’s on record now.”

“That is not what I said.”

“Mm, close enough.”

You sigh, slouching back in your seat. “Remind me why I asked for your help again?”

He looks up at you, a faint, calculating smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Because, even though you’re clearly too distracted by me,” he says with a playful sigh, “you still need my help with calc. Unless, of course, you’d rather fail.”

And damn it— he’s right.

You don’t answer. But you don’t deny it either.

[hexhomos]

Hello fellow Jayce defender.

First off, virtual kisses on both your cheeks for your Arcane analysis. They're refreshing to read, and insightful as well.

Something that's always bothered me about the way fans interact with Jayce is assuming that he's always the one making the mistakes in any of his relationships. It's almost funny in a way how they strip other characters of their autonomy and arcs just so they can point out how Jayce is failing his partners.

With Mel and Viktor especially, there's this narrative that Jayce simultaneously ignores both of their needs while also prioritising one over the other. Either he neglects Viktor to go and swoon over Mel, or he abandons his relationship with Mel to go play science with Viktor, or he neglects both to go do his own things while they suffer through their own plots.

And it's fascinating how incredibly mistaken these people are, and also how they reduce his character to only being important when he's in a relationship.

I'm here like, "hey, do you wanna discuss the reason for how Jayce seemingly knows how to navigate the ways of high class society very easily is probably because he's had to rely on sponsorships and donations for most of his youth to find his research because his house is too poor to be able afford it?"

Or "It's canonical that Jayce only ever had one friend in his youth before Viktor, and that was the daughter of his main sponsor, do you think it's interesting that this indicates he probably had difficulty making or maintaining friendships and that this is possibly a symptom of the Academy mainly housing elite and rich students so they couldn't relate to his struggles and he couldn't relate to theirs?"

But no, people just want to hate on him for not being the picture perfect boytoy in a relationship.

And I mean, it's not like it's just reduced to Jayce either. So many other characters have had similar treatments where they're reduced to either their most basic qualities or mischaracterised entirely. And I'm really not trying to be the fandom police or whatever - everyone interprets differently - I just find it frustrating is all.

Anyways, you're cool.

YES I never have time to talk about this bc people don't give a fuck but in Jayce's journals we even see him stewing with envy and petty rage at this star-rising student on the academy that he sees as the example of a perfect prodigy (in opposition to how much Jayce fucks things up...)

It also strongly suggests he's on a scholarship, which ties into his suicide attempt.

Jayce is keeping his experiments a secret from everyone to avoid the blowback and isolating himself further and further when they don't work. Jayce is flawed! He's proud of his dream pitch to the point of hilarity. Jayce doesn't like socializing, he does it out of obligation! Even when he's being raised to a councilor position in s1 he's PANICKING. He doesn't want the fucking job, he doesn't like the parties nor the people, his truest honest self is that moment in season 2 where he declares the lab was always his home, and so was Viktor.

But even then he subsumes his own wants spends most of s1 trying to attend to the needs of other people. He routinely asks Viktor if he's alright, if he wants to come up to do the presentation, if he's sure those experiments are safe, etc. He tries to make Heimerdinger proud despite his constant rejections of their projects, and only turns on him when he threatens viktor's wellbeing. The reason why he doesn't announce anything on progress day is that he Was listening to Heimers so-called wisdom and it only bit him in the ass. Jayce gets himself in trouble with the council by being too naive and assuming his new post will allow him to crackdown on Piltovan corruption aided by the Hexgates. Majority of the complaints wrt relationships I see people making of him are just wildly exaggerated. "He was neglecting viktor" bro he talks about viktor in nearly every scene he has with mel 😭 viktor is the one who isolates himself and randomly disappears at times bc he's a grown man with his own boundaries.

Jayce's entire life is defined by the transactional nature of his existence, his work, the patronage receives - all depending on how much he can play the showpony role without fucking it up. It's not a comfortable position. Jayce is stressing out the whole damn show because if one person isn't pissed at him, someone else will be, and it always comes down to revokable money, investments, social standing. if he really was as uncaring and well-off as some claim he wouldn't give a shit. He could just coast along life, but that's not what he's doing ever. He only 'frees' himself in season 2 by abandoning his life's dream and the rotten reality that existed around it. Which is kind of bleak, but at least its over.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Alpha male reader with omaga mikey and they are with each other and Mikey heat comes Unexpectedly ♦️

Pairings: Mikey x male reader

Warnings: Alpha male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom/omega!Mikey, lots of pet names, clingy sex, public sex, biting, heat, knotting, brief mention of pregnancy, reader is called "sir + master"

It's a crisp, spring day and you are a humble alpha taking his little omega boyfriend out to the park. As usual, Mikey's first move is to find the food stalls and buy a snack to eat while you take a stroll. Something sweet, obviously. Because what's a daytime park date without a little sugar?

If you're lucky he might even share a bite with you (!!!!!!) without you asking! Your lips linger around Mikey's fingers for just a few seconds longer than they need to, and the omega feels a flush of warmth hit his body from the inside. He shrugs it off though, and your date continues over to a bench by the water.

“A lot of ducks here today, huh?” you comment. Eyeing the feathered creatures as a dozen or so glide along the water's surface.

Mikey looks at you with a raised eyebrow, “I didn't think anyone seemed that rude… that one kid even smiled as we passed them.”

You returned his puzzled expression with one of your own, until it clicked, and you snorted as you corrected him. “Ducks, Mikey,” pointing towards the water in front of you. “not dicks. You've got a dirty little mind today, dont'cha?”

“What do you mean?! That one mistake doesn't make me some pervert, like you think I am!” Mikey pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and swiveling away from you.

Your boyfriend's childish nature is adorable sometimes (and annoying at others…) — huffing while he avoids eye contact, even turning his body away from you so he can pretend to be mad. Such a cutie~

“Uh-huh, sure.” you said sarcastically. “Don't think I didn't see the look in your eyes when I "accidentally" sucked on your fingers earlier. Your mind went somewhere very naughty, and we both know it~” Your teasing turned the tips of Mikey's ears red in an instant, filling his mind with many ideas. In that moment, all the blood in his body rushed downward, causing his soft shaft to slowly swell and rise—creating a small bulge in the front of his pants.

As you turn your attention back to the natural world surrounding you, a soft whine makes your ear twitch. You glance over and notice the deep red taking over Mikey's cheeks and nose, and the way his fingers dig into the wood of the bench you're sitting on. “M-Mikey…?”

The utterance of his name sends another jolt straight to his cock, filling him with an unbearable heat that spreads to every last corner of his body. He's wheezing now, mouth open as ragged breaths come out and his chest heaves. You stare at the sudden new state of your partner in shock — is he getting a fever?! Is this spot too sunny?!

“Hey, babe, are you– are you alright?” you touch the back of your hand against his forehead, and it almost feels like Mikey got a terrible sunburn. “You're burning up! Uuuhh… should we move somewhere with shade?!”

“Lower… touch me lower pleeeaasee~ ” he whines. His thighs tense, rubbing together a bit as he tries not to let a glob of precum spill from his dick. “Please, sir… I need it– mMFhjkD–!! I need Master's touch…”

Wow. Ok, this is embarrassing! As your eyes scan your immediate surroundings, you find that most of the people are over towards the center of the park, or by the entrance. There are still a few people nearby though, and they could probably see or hear you if you do anything right here–

“Mikey, wh– are you…?” you're cut off by Mikey grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand into his pants, unzipping them so that you can fit your whole hand down there. His tiny cock has swelled so much, and the insides of his clothes are soaked already! There's a wet mess sliding down his thighs and pooling underneath his ass.

While you try not to alert any other park-goers, you discreetly palm your boyfriend underneath his clothes, rubbing at his entrance and nearly easing a finger in there. This alone causes your balls to tighten, and you sense something a bit more primal bubbling towards the surface as Mikey whimpers and thrusts his hips wildly — like an animal in heat.

“Mikey, why didn't you tell me your heat was coming on? We could have stayed home — taken care of this properly. The park could've waited.”

“I-I didn't– gnngh-! I didn't kn-know… I swear!” he stammers between noises of ecstasy. “OoOOohh mm~ yeah~ I didn't feel any-thiiing aaAhhH!! A-anything until after we got here… hnngh…” you have to quickly cover your boyfriend's mouth, lest he moan any louder and draw someone's attention.

Well, now that you're less concerned about his health, and you know why Mikey is red and a million degrees, now you have to make a quick decision — how are you going to take care of this? You could try to take him back home, where you'd have all the privacy possible to fuck him silly until this heat subsides. But, looking at the state your boyfriend is currently in, you don't see that working out very well. He's too far into this to walk that far… The park bathrooms aren't private enough, plus they're not all that clean. You guess…

“Pl-please please please please– it huuuurts…” Mikey cries, prying your hand away from his lips and trying to get both of your hands down his pants.

“No — zip these back up, quickly–”

“NONONONONO PLEASE—I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU, MASTER, PLEASE–!!!” Mikey screams, clinging onto your arm like a child would to their parents when they don't want them to leave.

You slap a hand over Mikey's mouth again, nearly flying off of the bench to shush him. “SHH! Be quiet! I'm GOING to, but we can't do it right here! It's bad enough that someone probably saw us already… we're in public, Mikey! We can't just do it in front of an audience!”

Another pitiful whine reverberates into your palm, and the blond's black eyes well with tears as he reluctantly zips up his pants, feeling lonely without your hand on him.

“Get up, hold on to me if you need to.”

Mikey stumbles as you begin walking somewhere, wrapping his arms around your elbow and nuzzling his nose into the exposed skin. That little inhale of your scent has him clenching his legs together for a moment as a dribble of precum leaks out of his tip.

That whole display only causes your hormones to kick in further, bringing an uncomfortable wave of heat to your body now. It's all you can do to lead Mikey along until you come to a rather large hedge on the outer edge of the park, barely covered by a few trees and a fence on one side.

“Why are we… over here?” your little omega asks.

Before you answer, you scoop him up and lay him down on the grass. “Fixing our little "problem"—fuckin'… nngh-” you growl impatiently, “Look at what you did to me, honey…” the very obvious dick-shaped bulge in your pants made Mikey drool. His hands dig into the grass and dirt below him, and his legs spread instinctually.

“That's a good boy, but you gotta take your clothes off first, yeah?” you remind him. In a flash, your boyfriend has his pants and underwear off, only draped around one ankle. At the same time, you unzip yours and pull them down just enough to free your aching, throbbing cock.

“Ready for me?” Mikey nods vigorously, and you quickly line up your cock, pushing against his entrance with a bit of resistance. The slick coating his insides and sliding down his inner thighs helps greatly, though it is still a tight fit. Not that you're complaining, exactly — that tightness feels damn good for both of you.

The little omega opens his mouth to moan—or maybe scream—but not a sound comes out. Instead, his eyes simply glaze over while you bottom out in one thrust. “OoOOohH fuck-! Tight… so fuckin' tight for me…”

Instincts take over as you start humping Mikey's wet hole, already overwhelmed by having his soft, warm insides hug your cock. Primal as this all is, you also desperately cling to your boyfriend—overtaken by a primal love for him too. One hand combs through his hair, pushing it out of his face, while the other slides to the small of his back. “Mhm~ You feel so gooood, baby- ah! ah! ah! Fu-uck y-yeah–!” you drawl to the rhythm of your thrusts. Plowing Mikey's ass so hard that it kind of hurts your hips too.

The omega wraps his arms around the back of your neck, pulling your face closer until your lips brush against his skin. You nibble on his earlobe, and Mikey lets out a cute whimper as his eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment. Nibbling turns to nipping at his neck, which then turns into sucking on the tender flesh — all while the blond moans louder than he probably should.

“Fuck! I'm gonna- hnngh–!!” Before you can even finish your sentence, a flood of thick, creamy cum fills up Mikey's hole. Painting his insides white as you bite down on his shoulder to stay quiet.

“M-more! Moremoremore~! Need… Alpha's cum~���” his voice fades towards the end, and his small body slumps all at once as the last drops of cum spill into his unprotected hole.

You're barely able to hold yourself up, but you try to, so you don't crush your precious omega with your weight. Though your vision is spotty, you can still appreciate the sight of your darling boyfriend in his blissful state. You assume he's half unconscious already; until you start pulling out and Mikey perks up, whining out “Noooo… isss'not enough yet… need master's cock~”

A knot is already formed at the base of your shaft, and you're honestly not any softer even though you pumped a bucket load of semen into him. You certainly can't walk home like this…

“Yeah? Is this what you're needing, honey?” you ask, bringing one of Mikey's hands to the knot and letting him feel it. He gropes it, strokes it, and begs for you to put it back inside in such a loving voice. It's enough to make you feel bad about even thinking of stopping here.

“Anything for my baby boy~ Haah… wanna push it in yourself?” Mikey nods tiredly, guiding the rest of your dick back into his hole. Once the knot reaches his entrance, he holds onto your hips, and you begin thrusting again. “A little harder—here, I'll help ya.” you take Mikey's waist in your hands and pull him towards you as you thrust in.

The speed of your thrusts picks back up, and with enough effort from both of you, your knot eventually squeezes past his fucked out rim. “Oh god-! It's in! Fffuuck, Mikey… s'tighter than before-!!” As your bulky cock stretches his ass, you can already feel another orgasm coming.

Mikey pulls you down by the neck again, clinging to you—his lifeline, his sunshine, his stars, his galaxy, his entire world—and you return the embrace. His small body takes everything you have to offer as you greedily hump him, creating just enough friction to unload another round of cum into his womb. “Shit! Cumming! Mmhm, gonna breed you, Mikey~ Gonna breed my sweet omega–!!”

“Breed me! Please… mMMhgNm…” his muffled cries turn into whimpers as you up the ante with your breeding talk–

“Oh fuck-! Gonna knock you up, yeah? Fill your little tummy with kids?” between every powerful bump against Mikey's body, you affirm his deep-rooted desires. “You'll be a daddy after I'm finished with ya, sweetheart~”

—

You're not sure how many minutes pass, but what you are sure of is the fact that your knot hasn't gone away yet… it's still swollen, tethering you and your omega together and preventing you from leaving your hiding spot.

Mikey is all but passed out under you, and it's still early enough in the day — it's not like you need to rush out of the park, sooooo… you guess you're just going to lay here until you can safely pull out.

In the meantime, what's the harm in admiring your boyfriend while he naps? After all, his soft features look even prettier after you had them twisting in pleasure~

[clarii]

Operation ‘Fix Eddie’s Screw-Up’

Summary: A year ago, Eddie Munson made a mistake he’s regretted ever since. When you walk into the video store where he works with Robin and Steve, old wounds resurface, and Eddie’s left grappling with the past. It doesn’t take long for Steve, Robin, and the kids to notice—and they decide to take matters into their own hands to fix things.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Author’s note: Good morning guys, I felt like Tumblr was lacking on some good old angst and fluff stories of him without any smut. This one is kinda long.

Eddie Munson’s job at Family Video wasn’t glamorous, but it was steady. After everything with the Upside Down, normalcy was a welcome relief. The place was rarely busy, which left plenty of time for him, Steve, and Robin to mess around behind the counter and argue over who was more tolerable to customers.

“Come on, Stevie,” Eddie said one slow Thursday afternoon, lazily spinning a VHS tape between his fingers. “Don’t act like you don’t love when middle-aged moms ask you to recommend a rom-com.”

“Better than you scaring them off with your metalhead charm,” Steve shot back.

Robin snorted from the counter. “Please, you’re both terrible. I’m the only one holding this place together.”

The three of them fell into easy banter, their laughter echoing through the empty store. Eddie had just started recounting a ridiculous D&D campaign he’d run when the bell above the door jingled.

“Welcome to Family Video!” Robin chirped without looking up from her inventory list.

Eddie, however, froze. His voice caught in his throat, his grip tightening on the tape in his hands. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was you. He’d recognize your presence anywhere.

A year. It had been a whole year since the last time he’d seen you—since the night he’d screwed everything up.

You didn’t even glance his way as you walked toward the shelves, your focus entirely on the rows of tapes. Your hair, your stance, the way you moved—it all hit him like a freight train, dragging memories to the surface that he’d tried so hard to bury.

“Uh, Eddie?” Steve nudged him, eyebrows raised. “You good, man?”

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbled, though his voice was tight. He forced himself to turn away, but he couldn’t stop glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

When you finally approached the counter with your rental, you placed it down without a word.

Robin, picking up on the tension, stepped forward to help. “Oh, this one’s good! Classic rom-com—”

“Just the tape, please,” you said curtly, cutting her off. Your voice wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t warm, either.

Eddie didn’t dare speak. He kept his hands busy with the register, avoiding eye contact. When you paid and took your receipt, you turned on your heel and left without so much as a glance back.

The bell jingled again as the door closed behind you.

Eddie’s eyes, however, stayed fixed on the door long after you were gone.

It didn’t take long for Steve and Robin to notice.

“Okay, spill,” Robin said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. “What was that?”

“Yeah, dude,” Steve added. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He could feel their eyes boring into him, and he knew there was no getting out of this.

“That was her,” he said finally, his voice low.

“Her who?” Robin asked.

“The girl,” Eddie clarified. “The one I told you about. The one I…” He trailed off, the words catching in his throat.

“The one you majorly screwed over last year?” Robin guessed, her eyebrows shooting up.

Eddie winced. “Yeah, that one.”

Steve and Robin exchanged a look, and Eddie groaned.

“Don’t start, okay? I already know I’m an idiot. I’ve known for a year.”

Robin leaned forward, her expression curious. “Okay, but what exactly happened? You’ve never given us the full story.”

Eddie hesitated. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but he knew they weren’t going to let it go.

“She and I were… close,” he admitted. “Really close. She came to Hellfire sometimes, we’d hang out after school—she even helped me set up a few campaigns. But then, right before graduation, I panicked.”

“Panicked about what?” Steve asked, genuinely curious.

“About her,” Eddie said, his voice bitter. “She was everything I wasn’t. Smart, grounded, going places. And me? I was just the town freak. I thought if I pushed her away, it’d be easier for both of us. So I said some… things.”

Robin frowned. “Like what?”

“Like how I didn’t care about her the way she thought I did,” Eddie said quietly. “That she deserved better than some loser like me. It wasn’t true, but… I said it anyway.”

“Dude,” Steve muttered, shaking his head.

Eddie shrugged helplessly. “I thought I was doing the right thing, okay? But I messed everything up. She hasn’t spoken to me since, and I don’t blame her.”

Robin and Steve shared a look that could only be described as scheming.

“You know,” Robin said slowly, “this feels like the kind of thing we could fix.”

“Definitely,” Steve agreed. “I mean, it’s basically a rom-com setup. Guy screws up, realizes he’s an idiot, wins girl back with grand gesture.”

Eddie groaned. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. I don’t need you two meddling in my love life.”

“Too late,” Robin said with a grin. “Operation ‘Fix Eddie’s Screw-Up’ is officially a go.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the gang to get involved.

When Dustin heard the story, he was immediately on board. “Eddie, you idiot,” he said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’ve been pining over her for a year and didn’t tell me? I could’ve fixed this ages ago!”

“I don’t need fixing,” Eddie muttered.

“Clearly, you do,” Max said, rolling her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

Even Lucas, Mike, and Will had ideas, though most of them were wildly impractical. (“Write her a song,” Mike suggested. “Girls love that stuff.” “She’ll just think it’s cheesy,” Lucas argued.)

Through it all, Eddie tried to protest, but deep down, a part of him hoped they could pull it off.

The plan came together piece by piece, each member of the group contributing ideas that were somehow both chaotic and oddly brilliant.

“What about a mixtape?” Dustin suggested as he sprawled across Steve’s couch.

“A mixtape screams ‘80s romance,” Robin said, nodding. “But it needs to be personal. Like, songs that mean something to you and her.”

Eddie groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You guys don’t get it. She doesn’t even want to look at me, let alone listen to some cheesy mixtape.”

“Then don’t make it just about the tape,” Max said from her spot on the floor. “Make it part of something bigger.”

“And where’s this ‘bigger’ happening?” Steve asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

The group fell silent, all eyes turning to Eddie. He frowned, tapping his fingers against his knee. Then it hit him—an idea so crazy it might actually work.

“The Hawkins Carnival,” he said.

“What about it?” Dustin asked.

“They’re setting it up this weekend, right? She used to love going to that thing. We’d sneak off after school and blow all our money on funnel cakes and rides.” His voice softened as the memories flooded back. “Maybe… maybe I could meet her there.”

“Okay, but what’s the actual plan?” Robin pressed. “You can’t just show up and expect her to swoon over you.”

“Yeah,” Steve added. “You need a moment. Something big. Something unforgettable.”

Eddie thought for a moment, then smirked. “I’ve got just the thing.”

The days leading up to the carnival were a whirlwind of preparation. Dustin helped Eddie pick out songs for the mixtape, while Robin and Steve coached him on what to say.

“Apologize first,” Steve advised. “Don’t try to justify what you did—just own up to it.”

“And be sincere,” Robin added. “No sarcasm, no jokes. This isn’t the time for your usual deflection.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but took their advice to heart.

Meanwhile, the kids worked on the logistics of his grand gesture. Lucas and Max snuck into the carnival grounds to scope out the perfect location, while Will and Mike brainstormed backup plans in case things went south.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Eddie was a bundle of nerves. The mixtape was finished, his speech was rehearsed, and the stage was set. All that was left was for you to show up.

The Hawkins Carnival was alive with lights and laughter, the scent of fried food wafting through the air. Eddie stood near the Ferris wheel, his heart pounding as he scanned the crowd.

“You’ve got this,” Dustin said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just stick to the plan.”

Eddie nodded, though his palms were sweating.

Then he saw you.

You were standing by the carousel, looking effortlessly beautiful in the glow of the carnival lights. The sight of you took his breath away, and for a moment, he almost lost his nerve. But then he remembered why he was here—why he’d spent the past year kicking himself for letting you go.

He squared his shoulders and approached you, his heart racing.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the carnival.

You turned, your eyes widening in surprise. “Eddie?”

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice pleading.

You hesitated, your expression guarded. But after a moment, you nodded. “Fine.”

Eddie led you to a quieter spot near the edge of the carnival, away from the crowds. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the mixtape, holding it out to you.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it warily.

“It’s… an apology,” he said. “And a thank-you. And a promise to do better if you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your fingers brushing the edge of the tape but not taking it. “Why now, Eddie? Why after all this time?”

“Because I’ve been an idiot,” he admitted. “I thought I was doing you a favor by pushing you away. I told myself you deserved better, but the truth is, I was scared. Scared of how much I cared about you. Scared of screwing it up.”

He took a deep breath, his hands trembling. “But I did screw it up. And I hate myself for that. I just… I needed you to know that I’m sorry. And that I never stopped…”

“Never stopped what?” you prompted, your voice soft.

“Never stopped loving you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You really hurt me, Eddie.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, and Eddie braced himself for the worst. But then, slowly, you reached for the tape, your fingers curling around it.

“I’ll listen to it,” you said softly.

Eddie’s heart soared. “That’s all I’m asking.”

But the night wasn’t over yet.

As you turned to leave, the Ferris wheel lit up behind you, the carnival music swelling in the background. Eddie hesitated, then called out.

“Wait!”

You turned back, your brow furrowed.

“Will you ride the Ferris wheel with me?” he asked, his voice trembling. “One last time?”

Your lips curved into a small smile, and for the first time in a year, Eddie felt hope.

“Okay,” you said.

As the two of you climbed into the Ferris wheel carriage, the world below seemed to fade away. The lights, the noise, the crowds—it all disappeared, leaving just the two of you suspended in the night sky.

And as the Ferris wheel reached its peak, Eddie turned to you, his eyes searching yours.

“I meant what I said,” he whispered. “I love you. I never stopped.”

This time, you didn’t hesitate. You leaned in, closing the distance between you, and kissed him.

The world tilted, the stars spinning above, but Eddie didn’t care. For the first time in a year, everything felt right.

The Ferris wheel creaked softly as it came to a stop, grounding you and Eddie back in the bustle of the carnival. But neither of you moved to get out of the carriage right away. Instead, you stayed seated, your hands still intertwined, your heads leaning close together.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “if you mess this up again, I’m never speaking to you.”

Eddie let out a breathless laugh, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “Fair enough. But I won’t. You’ve got my word.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. His dark eyes, once filled with nervous energy, now held something softer. Something earnest. You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I’ll hold you to that, Munson.”

The Ferris wheel operator coughed awkwardly from below, snapping you both out of the moment. “Uh, you getting out or planning to rent the thing for the night?”

Eddie grinned and hopped out, offering you his hand to help you down. The two of you wandered back into the glowing chaos of the carnival, your shoulders brushing with every step.

The next morning, the story of your reunion had spread faster than Eddie anticipated.

When he walked into Family Video for his shift, Steve was already smirking behind the counter, Robin perched on top of it with a knowing grin. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had apparently stopped by, too, judging by the excited chatter echoing through the store.

“Look who’s finally not single!” Robin announced loudly as Eddie stepped inside.

Steve threw an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, ruffling his hair. “How does it feel, Romeo?”

“Like I should’ve kept my mouth shut about all this,” Eddie muttered, though he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“C’mon, man, don’t be shy,” Dustin said, grinning ear to ear. “We did help, after all. You should be thanking us.”

“Oh, thank you, wise sages of Hawkins,” Eddie said, bowing dramatically. “I couldn’t have done it without your meddling.”

Robin snorted. “Damn right.”

Later that week, you stopped by Family Video, much to the delight of the gang.

“Look who it is!” Robin sang as you walked in, nudging Eddie.

You shot her a mock glare before turning your attention to Eddie, who had abandoned all pretense of professionalism to lean against the counter with a wide grin.

“Hi,” you said, a little shyly.

“Hi,” he replied, his tone soft and warm.

Robin and Steve exchanged a glance, then bolted for the back room, dragging Dustin and the others with them.

“Hey, we weren’t done!” Dustin protested, but Robin slammed the door shut behind them, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eddie leaned closer. “They mean well, but they’re the absolute worst, I swear.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “They’re not so bad. I think I owe them, actually.”

“For what?”

“For convincing me to give you another chance.”

Eddie’s smile faltered slightly. “Do I… deserve another chance?”

You reached across the counter, taking his hand. “You’re earning it. And so far, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

The weight that had been pressing on Eddie’s chest for a year seemed to lift entirely. He grinned, his fingers curling around yours.

“Well, then,” he said, his voice playful but sincere. “I guess I’d better keep it up, huh?”

You smirked. “You’d better.”

As you left the store, mixtape in hand, Eddie watched you go with a goofy grin on his face. Steve emerged from the back room just in time to catch him staring.

“Still gazing after her like a lovesick puppy?” Steve teased.

“Absolutely,” Eddie said without shame.

Robin grinned as she joined them. “Well, looks like Operation ‘Fix Eddie’s Screw-Up’ was a success.”

“Don’t ever call it that again,” Eddie groaned, though his smile didn’t waver.

And as the group broke into laughter, Eddie realized something: he wasn’t just grateful to have you back in his life. He was grateful for all of it—the chaos, the meddling, the friends who refused to let him give up on love.

Because this? This was a second chance he wasn’t going to waste.

The End.