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millerscoffee · 11 months

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soft spot for trouble | hbf!javi

lit a cigarette and gave it a kiss.

6.3k | javier peña x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

warnings: dub-con: drunk sex, honey this is all S-M-U-T, husband's best friend, infidelity, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, piv (protected), brat tamer!javi, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink, praise kink, this is just so horny, smoking (lots of it soz, and shotgunning cigarette smoke – OOPS). no use of y/n.

summary: javier peña is back from colombia and decides to spend some time with you and your husband, his best friend since college. after telling a story you know nothing about, an argument ensues between you and your husband, and you get drunk... both on whiskey, and on javi.

A/N: what can i say, i'm just the worst for narcos's very own javier peña and there's nothing you can do. enjoy!!!!! || [when you click keep reading you don't see the chalkboard i have stashed away stating "i will not make this a series" over and over 🤭]

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat. "Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight." And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

"Okay – okay! Would you have a threesome?" Your best friend is reading these conversation cards you got her some birthday ago, and you can hear her partner and your husband laugh amongst themselves.

A dinner party is going on at your house, and you and your husband have invited your best friend, Gabrielle, and her partner, Kris. Along with them there's your husband's best friend, Javier.

He was meant to bring a date, but for reasons that were more mumbled out of his mouth than spoken outright, they aren't here.

You're all sat around the dining room table with after dinner drinks and a game everyone agreed would be a fun way to end the night.

"Oh, gosh!" You laugh with Gabbie, both of you shaking your heads in anticipation of what would be said next.

"You gonna tell her or should I, pendejo?" Javi refers to your husband, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

The one you explicitly told him to smoke outside. You heard your husband, Julian, veto the request as you left, allowing the DEA to do what he wanted.

Julian undermining what you wanted... again.

"Tell me what?" You raise your brow, wafting smoke from your face dramatically as if to say, I told you not to do this. Javi doesn't seem to pay it much attention.

"Me and this guy...," in fact he points to your husband with the cigarette, flicking ash into the tray. You blink in annoyance.

"No! You didn't!" You gasp. Your mind races at the thought of them taking someone back to their dorm in college. You curb the ache that tempts your middle at thought of Javier and Julian sharing a woman between the two of them.

But that excitement is fleeting when a more sinister, grueling feeling creeps up your stomach.

"You're right. We didn't. Well, I didn't. I just played wingman. Julian here isn't as much of a saint as you thought." Javi says this to make you laugh, but it does the opposite.

Your eyes catch Julian's who now is looking at anywhere else but you. Knowing damn well before the two of you got married, this man prodded and practically bullied sexual information out of you.

Said it was only fair to know each other's pasts before making such a big commitment.

Within a sentence, a simple – stupid – game, the perception of your husband could shift before your very eyes. Your jaw ticks forward and you take a long, contemplative sip of wine.

"O-kay, let's just put these away," Kris muses, taking the cards in her hands.

"No, let's keep going," you antagonise. Your eyes become dull, tongue sharpening by the second. "I think Julian has a story to tell. It's good to know who you're married to."

You remember the way Julian said those very words to you while he was digging your own history of who you've slept with. Like a secret call directly to him... in front of everyone.

You can see Peña shifting in his seat out of your periphery.

"Well, it was in college," Julian speaks now after shooting the rest of his bourbon. His body language involving everyone in the story, but he finally has the courage to look at you. Somehow that hurts worse.

"There were these two girls at the bar we used to go to, and–"

That's when the tear spills over your cheek.

"Alright, I think she's heard enough." Javi's voice is low to Julian and your head snaps in the direction of him like a vulture who's making a meal of something dead.

"You don't get to decide that."

It's only when Gabbie whispers your name do you take heed. "I think we should leave you two to talk about this."

The guests in your home pack up their things until it's you and Julian. "I'm sorry, Jul–"

"Peña just go, man."

Javi nods sadly at your husband, his hand touching your shoulder as he slips out. He's the last one to go, and as the door closes it feels symbolic.

It's silent for a long time.

You go between wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting clarity.

Since your own husband didn't bother to give that to you.

"I never cared," you let out an uneven sigh, searching over your husband's features.

He looks defensive, annoyed and it's totally misplaced. You should be the annoyed one. You are the one who got betrayed.

"It never bothered me to tell you my partners. I agreed with you, even. That we should be open and honest to have a better relationship–"

"You really think you're in the position to be on a high horse when you fuck Javier with your eyes?"

It's deflective. A defense mechanism to take the heat off of himself, and unfortunately, it works. Your mouth is left agape.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, tilting his glass to where Javi sat, "whenever this guy is over, I don't exist."

"This guy, is your best friend. Someone you've known way longer than you've known me. Excuse me for being hospitable."

"There's hospitality, then there's throwing yourself at the first man who walks through the door. It's embarrassing."

His words make you feel small for the first time in your relationship.

It causes a crack, irreparable in nature, and you feel a shift.

Because you don't cry, it makes you angry. Puts you back on track as to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"Embarrassing?" You stand, wine glass in hand, "Embarrassing?! You just confessed something you knew would make me irate in front of our very best friends. Something personal that I should have known in private. You lied to me and you admitted it in front of people we care about. Made me look like a goddamn fool! Don't tell me about being embarrassed, you don't know the first fucking thing. Fuck you, Julian!"

You could throw the wine glass, but you decide to slam it down instead. Grabbing your purse, keys, and jacket to escape without letting him finish his thought. Door slammed. You've heard enough.

Mature. But you were pissed off, and you knew staying in a house that you made a home together wouldn't solve anything.

Maybe getting some fresh air would help.

Maybe walking to the bar in town would be even more helpful.

Your thoughts were swirling, clouding your judgement on the walk in, sneakers on. Your pleated white skirt brushes above your knees that paired with the black top that made your breasts look concealed more than shown off.

As if the forest green bomber jacket didn't help in making you look modest.

What the fuck did Julian know?! You weren't throwing yourself at anybody.

Because you were not thinking about Javi with his shirt off moments before the truth was told, and he did not infiltrate your dreams occasionally with sexual undertones.

It couldn't happen, and it was not happening.

You had been to this bar a few times before. It's dimly lit, a variety of music pumps through the speakers. There's plumes of smoke, and there's something about it that feels safer than when you experienced it in your home. Like a part of you enjoyed it.

Studying the room, you discover Javier Peña on a barstool, staring into his glass of whiskey. You knew Peña to play dirty, but there's something about the way he's contemplating – or at least looks like he's contemplating – that gives off remorse.

"Didn't know you could do that," you kid, taking a seat beside him. Your eyes scan over his jeans, the buttons undone from his red shirt. The way his chest and neck and NO – no!

"Oh, hey," and his dreamy crooked smile, puppy eyes. Jesus Christ, you needed a drink and fast. "Didn't know I could do what?"

"Think." You try to cheer him up, but it doesn't seem to work. You both keep doing that to each other tonight.

Instead, Javi huffs out a fake laugh through his nose and downs the rest of the amber liquid. His eyebrows flash quickly, showing hints of regret, "You're tellin' me."

"Hey," your say lowly, eyes softening at the signs of his guilt. It feels different from your husband's accusatory behaviour.

It makes you feel like Javi actually cared that he hurt you, or at least hurt his friend. You can see him run his tongue atop of his teeth through his lips when he looks at you. It makes his jaw jut out, strong and chiseled, and you fail at averting your gaze.

"You didn't know that I didn't know. It's not your fault. For either party." You reach out to touch the top of Javi's hand in a friendly manner, and you catch a glimpse of your wedding ring.

A twinge of guilt hits your gut, and you pull away from the warmth as soon as you land.

"You really didn't know?" Javi peers over to you before finding eyes of the bartender, holding up the number 'two' with his fingers.

"Not only did I not know, he insisted on knowing every person that I've ever slept with, where they live, and how many times. Yes you heard that correctly," you nod a thank you to both the bartender and Javi before taking your drink.

Whiskey's not typically your first choice, but it's like he knew you needed something stronger. It's not a typical night.

The alcohol feels good on your tongue, as if it washed away what you just said.

You conveniently leave out what your husband threw at you about Peña before you left. Tonight was awkward enough already.

"Mierda, what a fucking idiot." Javi snickers in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I think you taught him some interrogation skills you didn't warn me about." You don't mean for that to come off so flirty, but you see Javier's face change minisculely and it makes your thighs to squeeze together.

"Didn't know I had to look out for you, cariño," he says, charm dripping from every syllable. He offers you a cigarette and it's hilarious, really – him handing this to you after telling him time and time again not to do it in your house.

Even more hilarious that you take it from him. He seems a little surprised by that.

You press the stick between your teeth when Javi has his lighter ready. Pour your stare into his as he starts your cigarette. Allow the inhale to sting your lungs.

You're very composed about it all, really. Really.

Exhaling the air from the side of your mouth, away from his face, you shrug slightly. "I guess you know now." Your words not making complete sense as you dizzy from nicotine, alcohol, and deception.

"Two women...," you trail off, focusing on the neon lights of the bar that create reflections on the shiny, hardwood floor. "Can barely satisfy one." You weren't saying it to chide Julian, you mostly said to to yourself, but of course nothing goes unnoticed with Peña, and he chokes a laugh.

It feels nice to hear a light sound in the midst of something so heavy that you can't help but partake in it, too. The two of you chuckling and you shake your head, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"Well, here's to the ones who can," Javi lifts his glass, and you do the same, just barely picking up what he's hinting while you down the rest of drink. Head swimming now.

The two of you sit in conversation as the piles of people in your town fill seats for a good ten minutes. Most of them know the both of you, and that keeps you on track. You abandon the butt of your cigarette in an ashtray that has at least three of Javi's since he arrived.

Kept on track because the more you drink, the more you realise you want to act on your impulses. Want to go against the things you were keeping yourself from thinking. To make some of those dreams come true.

"You know what your fuckin' problem is?" Javi starts, and it makes your blood boil. Breaks you out of your reverie.

"Maybe start that sentence off differently."

"No," he's quick to reply. So quick you don't notice you fold your own argument. "You're too uptight, that's your problem." he shrugs casually and you shove his shoulder lightly.

"Making it worse, Peña."

Javi brings his hand up to tap his index and middle finger at to the side of your head lightly.

"You're operating too much from here," his arm sweeps down, those two same fingers brushing against your panties from underneath your skirt. You jump back in your seat, gasping in response.

"Need to operate from here."

And there it is. It would seem out of place if it were anyone else but Javier Fucking Peña. Known for debaucherous ways. Known for his vices.

"W-what... what are you doing?" You stare wide, not quite sure you even felt what you did. It happened so fast that when you look around, no one saw a thing.

It wasn't as much of a record-scratch stop to them as it was to you.

You notice that you don't tell him to stop. And so does he.

"Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight."

And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

It's only when you stand do you notice how drunk you are. Not completely wasted, but not sober enough to make decisions with your brain. Exactly how Javi wants you. The walk to Javi's apartment is remembered in jolly splices.

---

Your mouth greets the shoulder of Javi's jacket playfully while he unlocks his door. You detect his aftershave in mix with the cigarettes, alcohol, and leather.

A whine escapes you and slick gathers in your panties, even more from the bar if that were possible. Especially when your noises and eagerness pull a baritone laugh from him, "Tranquilo, tigre."

He says that, but as soon as you've crossed the threshold of his door he has you against the other side of it. Fingers playing in your hair. Ever the gentleman, sliding off your jacket to put it... on the ground. Great. You like that jacket!

But you're just as careful and kind to his things as you tug on his belt. Your fingers playing with the brown leather and metal and finally, finally your mouths touch.

A sweet moan, high in octave and breathy, eases out of your throat and it's met with the gravel of his groan in the pit of his own. He feels and tastes nothing like your husband which makes it much easier to forget him.

Truthfully, he hadn't been in your mind since fresh air hit your face on the walk to Javi's.

Smoke, alcohol, and the faint likeness of gum moves over your tongue while your hands multitask in untucking his shirt from his jeans.

"That fuckin' easy?" He quips, but his breath as shaky as yours. Large hands palming the smushed shape of your breasts from the modest top, and it produces a whimper in the middle of your panting.

"It's that fucking easy, Peña. Could've been doing this a long fuckin' time, now." Your hands eclipse his, pushing them further into your tits in effort to obscenely massage them.

This stirs a groan from his lips. In awe of how in control you are like this. How it's different from the woman allowing her requests to be denied in her own home.

Javi disobeyed you on purpose at your house earlier, so maybe you could get it through your thick fucking skull that this is what you really needed.

To watch your desires bubble to the surface, and moreover to let them have space here. He wants you to act on them.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he rolls over the bone. Moustache twitching in a smirk, "Javi, baby."

To say you're wet now is an understatement. Your clit tingles with anticipation, thighs shaking without even being touched.

"Javi," you say it back to him, but it comes out more like a moan. A catalyst for a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and brushing of his facial hair against the top of your lips while he towers above you. Palm flat against the door above your head.

Somewhere between that and undoing each button on his shirt, you end up in the kitchen – bent over the island. Pouting at not getting the chance to see him shirtless fully.

You shiver against the granite, claw at the edges of furniture for something to land on. To find purchase. A cheek is pinned against the cool texture and you choke a breath the second you feel air flow against your ass. Your skirt riding up just for Javi to view.

"Motherfucker," you hear Javi behind you. The tone amused, saturated in desire. That's when you get your first taste of relief.

The edge of his index finger runs between your legs, rubbing the obvious wet spot of your panties. Your folds, even through the fabric, wrap around the length of his finger from how deeply he's pressing against you.

It flicks a flame in the pit of your stomach and causes more hunger than relief. Your pores open from how hot it's making you.

"You get this wet for him?" Javi's simple question evokes a mewl you've never heard come from yourself. Your hips lift back and roll in need.

"No... no. J-just you, Javi. Just you."

"Just me," he repeats, head tipping to the side as he examines you.

How easy it is for you to handover claim of your cunt. It's instantaneous, him pulling your undies down. Wasting no more time in what the two of you came here to do.

The pad of his thumb collects your slick between your folds. From the top of your hole all the way to your clit at the bottom from how you're positioned, and you bite your lip hard. Cheeks flushed while your ass peeks out from your skirt.

"Is that because this is mine?"

You confidently say Julian has never talked to you like this. You don't think you've ever been addressed like this in your life.

Never been made to feel special in this way, or that your body was someone's because they wanted you. Not because they wanted to have some icky claim of you.

Even more, you don't feel guilty. Not yet, anyway. There's no time for it. No time to pretend from what you've wanted from the very moment this man, whose warmth now radiates behind you, entered the picture.

"It's yours," you say in a rush as your torso drapes and digs into the side Javi's kitchen island. Makes you think you'd say this even in a sober state. "It's all yours, Javi!"

"What's mine?" He's deliberate and torturous, and his voice alone could make you cum. Your ass pushes back languidly, giving him a good view to curse at under his breath, of your cunt and the velvet of your asshole.

"Me, Javi. I'm yours. Everything." Hot tears swell over your cheeks from how horny and desperate you feel. Like if you don't get him now, you could combust.

"Javi!" you gasp, rutting against the outline of his hard cock in his jeans when he grinds against you without warning.

"Get used to fuckin' saying that," he cautions, and it's cocky, but unlike all the other broken promises you've been given, he's true to his word.

Because he pulls away from you, and you're now his ragdoll – putting you wherever he wants. Hoisting you up on the kitchen island, and it feels cold against the heat pooling at your core.

Javi watches as you bring your bare feet onto the counter, leaning back on your hands, and spread your legs apart like he's being called for dinner. And, fuck, that's exactly what he wants.

Because as soon as you do that, as soon as he sees just how wet and pink you are at the core for him, he can't say no to you.

Not that he was ever planning on it.

"That's it, that's fucking it. Jesus fucking Christ."

You get a good view of Javi's chest all the way down to his stomach and jeans in their disheveled state from this point of view. The bulge of his cock difficult to hide in pants that tight, and you are grateful for it.

You shiver at a mixture of the view of him and the air against your soaked skin.

Your cheeks and lips are painted crimson when he pulls up a seat. He wasn't kidding. He was planning on eating you out, going down on you like you were his own personal meal – as if his eyes devouring you weren't enough.

Your manicured nailed comb his hair back once you get the chance to reach him. Feeling exposed, throbbing by the time you feel the smooth skin of his cheek proceed the inside of your thigh. He takes you in, marveling at the way your cunt pulses and clenches over nothing. Fluid floods right from the source. The way your clit peeks out from its hood, just enough that his teeth could brush against it.

It makes his mouth water, and yours too now that you think about it. Pressing slow, teasing kisses on your thighs you sigh in frustration and alleviation. You can't help but wriggle your hips up towards him. "Please," you whimper, and that makes Javi's eyes grow even darker if you could believe it.

"Please what?"

"Javi, please eat me out!"

He doesn't miss a beat. Using his nose and face to breach your folds apart, to take a mess even further, Javi digs in. His tongue flattens against your slick and your sounds are immediate. It's all too sensitive, too unfamiliar for you to fully register how to feel.

He was right when he called your husband out at the bar. Julian made sure you came, but it was rarely with his mouth. Most of the time you were left rubbing yourself off during sex.

So to have someone, to have Javi – your husband's best fucking friend, between your legs. Servicing you with the sluttiest smile on his face, you can't help but slump back on the counter.

To be under his stare is almost too much. Perfect and needy for you. You slip your eyes shut from the intensity.

"Eyes on me, princesa," Javi rolls off his tongue easily, the tip of it digging right underneath the hood of your clit. Making you gasp, eyes wide, popping back open to meet his gorgeous features.

"Did my pussy like that?" He hums in satisfaction, wrapping his mouth around the all-too sensitized nub before mercilessly sucking it.

This leaves you with your mouth hanging open, your eyes crossing as they roll into the back of your head. The same head that's now reclining in sheer ecstasy.

But Javi's quick to make his point as he goes off of you and replaces his sucking with a harsh slap to your cunt. It makes you spring up, makes you pay attention. You pout and writhe at his power over you.

"I said fucking eyes on me. Don't you dare think about anyone else."

"I-I," you try, you really try to say something, but you can't. It feels too good, and you're too drunk to understand you can't use your words right now.

So you comply, watch him as best as you can. Your mouth split open, eyebrows knit together. And he's kind in the way he goes right back – sucking on your clit like it's his fucking job.

Like he hasn't eaten in weeks, and you're sitting at his kitchen counter, on display.

Not using your brain to think, but using your pussy.

"JustyouJavi," you manage. It's slurred, but you manage it because while he's sucking on your nerves, he's rolling the edge of his tongue against it too. Methodical circles, a tempo to die for. Doesn't switch it up, or make awkward transitions. It's just right.

It's inevitable, screaming his name. Feeling your toes curl, the heels of your feet grind into Javi's shoulders. Damn near pornographic in the way you keen your mantra of: yeah, yeah, yeah. The ache explodes into an uncontrollable fit of passion as you gush all over Javi's mouth.

But as he pulls back, you see that it's not just his mouth that's coated. His cheeks, chin, nose. You're spilling down his neck. And he smiles at you like a blood-soaked lion polishing off its prey.

"I know what you can do, princesa," the sentence has far too many words for you to understand what's happening during your comedown, so that's why it happens as a surprise when you feel Javi's two fingers prod against your cunt.

Standing from his chair now, he pushes it back with his heel. Hand in a loose fist around your neck as he makes you watch what he's doing to you. "Don't fucking blink," he grits, and it makes you want him to tighten his grip. To be possessive while he fucks you.

Your head is slightly angled down while he starts. Eyes looking up, mouth wet but not as wet as Javi's and it makes you come apart to watch his skin glisten still from you. Index and middle fingers press inside your wet hole. His wet hole.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, slipping your top lip above the bottom, you open easily for him to plunge deeper, his fingers curling up with no trouble at all in finding that spongy spot of pleasure right at the tips of them. Your eyes gloss from how overwhelming it feels, the repetitions.

"You can squirt for me, baby." His echoes have you in a trance, but that request makes you nervous. "I've... I don't know how...," you manage the words and he massages your insides in a way that makes you discern you're being primed for something.

"You can do it," Javi leans down, and the encouragement makes your mind reel at how simple words can create such an affect on you.

"Pull my cock out and slip those pretty lips around it, hermosa. You'll forget about anything else."

A part of you isn't ready. To see his cock would mean that things were progressing, and if they were in a standstill you could soak up this moment for longer. But the way you can hear your cunt slosh in between thrusts has you curious if he actually could make you do this.

You look down first. See the bulge more prominent and close in his boxers from his unbuttoned jeans. Eager to break out, you pull the fabric down enough to send the leaking head of his cock to slap against his abdomen before it springs out in front of you to tease.

"Holy fuck," the moment before the freefall, your body becomes alert of the sheer size of him. It was even better than the dreams of you getting railed by him from behind.

You can't help but take a moment to appreciate this. To brush your face sluttily against the warmth of his cock. Your lips teasing him until the precum lands on your tongue and your jaw instantly burns from how sore it is to be open like that.

Saliva falls on your shirt, not yet found the time to take it off.

He tasted heavenly, your hand cups his balls while his moves from your throat to the back of your head.

And it's delicious to watch his face. The way his jaw relaxed open before grinding it back shut, exhaling sharply through his nose. Javi tests your gag reflexes then, gripping the back of your head and sending the shaft of his cock down your throat.

"Mierda," he falters in keeping both rhythms from how hot your wet mouth is. "Knew you could handle my cock, baby, but fuck."

Between the sounds of you gargling him and the squelching of your pussy he is relentless in using, your body is distracted and slack enough for him to pull out of you.

"Ay dios mio, bebita. That's fucking it, there you go." The way he's nodding, proud and spasming in your mouth has you cumming again. This this time clear liquid sprays from you when he tugs his skilled fingers from you and you vibrate such moans from Javi's cock he has to pull out to stop himself from cumming, too.

A wail replaces your moans as the sound of your voice is more prominent in the space. "Javi!" You can't help that you're crying obscenely now, tears flowing from the intensity and the treatment he'd been giving your throat. Mascara running down your cheeks.

---

"Good fucking girl, bonita." You don't realise it straight away from you cum-drunken stooper, but he's picked you up now. Showing you how strong his lean frame is by carrying you to his bed. Tossing you onto the mattress like it's nothing.

"All of this off. Now." Yes, sir. You bob your head yes frantically, knowing how fucked you must look. Mascara running, your panties... somewhere. Your skirt soaked from a new trick Javi just taught you.

You catch a glimpse of the man who did this to you, equally a mess. His hair in all directions, neck red as beads of sweat tempt his broad shoulders, and fuck, he was naked now. You don't mean to, but you drool – this time without a cock in your mouth – too fucked to notice, or care.

"Take a fuckin' picture, baby." Javi softens his knees to curve down at your ear, "Off. Last warning."

You begin to wonder what he would do if you didn't do as he said.

"And if I don't?" You challenge, a lascivious grin crosses your face and you raise a brow.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Because that makes Javi's grin fade. Ripples a new sense of foreboding into the air when he takes your skirt off just as easily and swiftly as he did your undies, but the skirt isn't unzipped so it bursts from the force and you yelp at the sensation.

"Javi, you broke my skirt!" You whine. Naked from the waist down he ogles you before tutting his teeth sarcastically.

"It really bothers me, hermosa," Your shirt is slung overhead and abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"Good girls don't talk back."

You can tell he's drinking you in from the moment he stands back, but he's pulling away more and more until you don't feel his warmth anymore and you realise the error you've made.

"W-wait... come-come back!" Your words dejected, giving him doe eyes as he mimics them way better than you could.

"Bad girls get punished. Rub your clit, get yourself off." It drives a pathetic sound from your mouth before you plead to him.

"Please, no. Please – Javi, Javi please. I'll be good. Please, Javi!" Sitting up, you beg him, undo the sheer bra so your tits pop out from it. Both of you bare in his bedroom.

You can see that makes his cock undoubtedly ache.

"Oh, querida. You're gonna have to do better than that." Arms crossed, he watches as you part your sticky legs, exposing your folds to him again and he hums in approval.

"Let me see how you do it."

You're so deep in it with him, it feels like you've been doing this regularly. How he knows your body, helps you discover little things you didn't even know you were into.

It relieves you to let out wanton moans, your fingers spanning your slick, opening yourself up on cue. Fingers roll, pinch, glide your clit in a hypnotic motion.

It sends you close to the edge, but you can't quite find it with the prospect of Javi inside you.

You keep staring at his cock.

The way precum collects at the head, the girth of him. You could only imagine how deep he would be. Unsure if you could take him all.

"I need you, Javi. Javi, please. Please give me your cock. I'm sorry, I wanna be your good girl!" Torture rocks your throat, and right before you force a dull orgasm from yourself Javi takes your wrist, pushing it away from your core.

"We have to use a condom, baby." It's his way of telling you yes, and you sit up zealously, understanding and willing to do whatever it takes.

Because in reality, he's right, and that almost causes you to stop. Like those dreams you have where you wake up and instantly flock to your husband. Overcompensating.

But this wasn't one of those dreams, and you wanted this so badly it stung.

Javi goes to his nightstand, slicking lube on his cock before sheathing it in the rubber protectant. You certainly don't feel upset that you have to use it, but it leaves you curious what his skin feels like slipped inside of you.

Already coveting his presence before it even began.

But that's the thing, there's no slipping here. When he comes around to make sure you're both lubricated enough for the barrier, you see just how fat his cock is as it bulges from the condom.

Your legs unfurl, chin lining forward as you watch him. Javi keeps you on your back for now, draping your legs over his shoulders. No, he doesn't slide inside of you, he stretches you to such completion your body pulses repeatedly, coming completely undone.

It almost feels too much at first, this position – as deep as it was, but the way you're groaning has you both believing you can take it. Just in time for your sex to push him out of you.

Your muscles all too tight, beginning to worry he's too big.

But that doesn't stop you.

"Mierda, you need it that fucking bad, bebita?" His words make you weak. Because immediately you go between your legs, inviting him back into the innermost part of you without him needing to do it himself.

Javi's lips crash against yours, taking time in burying himself all the way to the hilt. But he doesn't move a muscle.

He stays there, admiring above you. The way your mouth parts, nipples becoming alive at the sensation. "Eres hermosa," more of a mumble, his lips brush and decorate the inside of your calves. The tip of his nose slightly bending against the skin.

It starts to become unbearable, your hips shifting up, but you find it is working. That your muscles relax and are able to take. "I can take it," you incline, not noticing you're heaving shallow breaths until the words leave you in pieces.

"Can you?" Javi asks condescending, thumbprint teasing the split of your clit, rasping at the way you convulse your whole body from contact.

He can't take it anymore, your hold is too strong over him. Javi, compelled to fuck you, drives his cock in, proprietorial in its approach.

You're almost oversensitive, unsure of the statement you just announced because you find yourself swallowing hard, your throat dry. Fingernails claw at his forearms as his large paws grip your waist for leverage. Your pelvis bucking up because like his fingers before, his length is hitting your g-spot and it's too much – you have to screw your eyes.

But Javi doesn't reprimand you for it this time. Instead he hovers over you, sending your ass off of the bed and him deeper than ever before. Right against your cervix now. Causing your mandible to unhinge, pitiful sounds expel your lungs. It's just too good.

"You can take it, baby," Lustful words right there at your ear, you beg in way that makes you want more.

You stroke his hair, tugging the strands – scratching his scalp. His body mercilessly colliding with yours. All sweat and skin, balls eager to tap against the curve of your ass, and all of those sounds fill the room. The sounds of your sex.

"Javi, please. Tell me." It's magic, he doesn't hold it against you that you're not being completely direct. He's understanding, and wants this for you again. The gears connecting that you need to be talked and fucked through it.

"Tell you what, cariño? How I want you to cum for me?" His glistening covered brow presses against yours, hairs stick to both of your foreheads. "How I make this pussy feel so perfect you have to explain why you're limping tomorrow?"

Fuck, you're a mewling, writhing mess.

"Let go for me, ángel," his dark, pleading eyes invite you to jump over the edge, "That's it. That's fucking it, baby. Cum for me."

Your skin trembles like a live wire. He's pulling another orgasm out of you and you don't even know where it's coming from or how he could get you to do it again. But you are. It shows up in your fingers curling, your thighs fluttering until streams of your sex leak from around his cock in your climax.

You're speechless. Moans come from you, yes, but you're so fucked out there's no words that could be put together to describe how fucked you really are.

Your legs fall on either side of Javi's waist, and there's a moment of cognition as your hand reaches to touch Javi's face. "You are so handsome," it slips out before you can stop it, but you don't want it to. Your thumb finds the divot at his bottom lip. Recall the way he tastes of you now. The tops of your fingers stroke his clean shaven cheek.

A face so hauntingly beautiful for a human up to no good. You knew snippets of his past, but his pout nudging against your palm tells you more than any story. Lets you know exactly who he is. You knew the truth.

"Get on your back, honey." You encourage, coaxing his cock out of you – still hard and dying for release.

Surprisingly, he does what he's told, unable to stop himself from kissing your cheek and you swallow down words.

No need to complicate things further.

So you climb on top of him instead. "Shit, cariño. Look at you." That makes you blush, his warm and strong palm splays on top of your breast to brush a digit over your nipple and you shiver. Tentatively, you take him back in and make an oomph sound. He somehow feels deeper like this.

You're intentional in the roll of your hips, but the pace is far too slow for Javi. He needs you, needs the chase of something. "Let me," he grits, pulling your chest onto his and pins your arms behind you in his own bear hug.

The way he digs his heels into the mattress to fuck you, to use you to get himself off is borderline degrading but his quiet praises against your skin has you lit up again in ways you don't anticipate. He slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark before petting where you connect. This leaves your sticky sweetness to cover his lap in no time.

"Hermosa, h-hermosa," his voice staggers at the shell of your ear, hips erratic while it feels like he's fucking you into oblivion. "So fucking good for my cock, pretty girl."

You have orgasmed so many times now it feels automatic when it happens again, but this time you take note of his arms tightening around you. A hand in your hair. "Just like that, just– fuck. Take it." It almost sounds like a resignation, but his waist pounds you both into another wave of pleasure until he emptied inside of you, filling the condom.

You both stay still. Spent. Relaxed. Eyes bleary, the two of you collapse into assuage.

A pile of shuddering, panting limbs tangle together in the wake of something devious and beautiful.

"Pretty, pretty girl." You hear him say into the top of your head. The hint of affection aches at your heart.

It's then you become acutely aware of how tight your wedding band feels around your ring finger.

---

Javi lights a cigarette in the middle of your afterglow, and it's intimate, him sharing it with you. You hold it, sobriety taking your head, and it frightens you when you don't pull away from him as you begin to think more clearly.

In fact, you roll onto your stomach. Body half-slung onto his, your tits pushed together perfectly as you sit up your elbows.

Taking the cigarette between your lips, you inhale, leaning to him as you push the smoke to billow into his mouth. He exhales the rest through his nose and your tongue tastes the plush lips in front of you because, fuck, it might be the last time you can.

"What do we do?" You ask after a while. It's quiet, and you give the stick back to him by dangling it between his lips.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." His words muffled by it, he takes a drag before leaving it to burn between his fingers. He puffs the smoke away from you. "You stay with him, bebita. You work it out. And when you need to be fucked, you call me. When he's being a cabrón, you call me. I'll make you forget about him."

Your survey the curtains in his room, the blue glow of dawn tempting to bring another day forward. You don't like his idea, but that doesn't make it wrong.

"You mean you don't want to run away together?" You joke, your eyes conveying, no really it's a joke. I swear. And he runs his fingers across your cheek to pinch it lightly, lips pressing together when he shakes his head 'no'.

"You know we can't do that."

The words bring Julian back to life. Shows his existence in a way that doesn't make you want to push him away. Through the love Javi has for him.

Despite it all, love. A common goal the two of you have for the man who is probably worried sick over you.

Just before guilt tempts to wrap its vengeful claws around your throat, Javi stops it in its tracks.

"You took what you wanted. That's all."

You nod compliantly, not willing to argue in order to savour the moment. Your head brushes against his chest and you close your eyes. If only to capture this feeling a little while longer.

You allow his words to integrate, and swallow down the antagonist of his statement: that there was more you wanted. You were certain the chase of this, the irrevocable quench from throes you shared with Javier, would not just die down.

Terrible that you didn't want it to. You would take what you wanted.

#narcos fic #javier peña #javier peña smut #narcos #javier peña x f!reader #pedro pascal #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x afab!reader #narcos smut #hbf #hbf!javi #husband's best friend #brat tamer!javi #by bee

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samandcolbyownme · 6 months

Text

Summary: Y/n rings in the new year with Sam and Colby.

Warnings: nothing but alcohol consumption, flirting

Word count: 1.3k | not edited

Happy New Year, babes! 🖤🥂✨

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Y/n. You about ready?" Colby calls from downstairs. You look at the door, "Putting on my shoes. Be there in a sec!" You stand up, walking over to your mirror and giving yourself one last look over.

You smile at the gold shiny dress that's hanging on your body and the heels that both match perfectly to the theme of tonight's party.

Guys wear simple black suits.

Girls wear shiny dresses.

You grab your clutch and walk out of the bedroom. As you make your way down the steps, you hear Sam and Colby's conversation come to a sudden halt.

"What?" You ask with a smile as you walk over to them, "Are we ready?"

They both nod. Lips slightly parted as their eyes move up and down your figure, "You look absolutely beautiful." Colby grabs your hand, giving you a little spin so they can see the full outfit.

"You're stunning." Sam lays a hand on your hip, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Definitely going to make heads turn."

"I'm sure that will happen just because you both are kissing me at midnight." You smirk and walk over to the wall mirror.

They follow you over and Colby lays a hand on your lower back, "We're not going to miss kissing our girl at midnight."

You smile, looking between them in the mirror, "I'm not going to miss kissing my boys, either." You smirk and pull out your phone, "Selfie?"

They pose on either side of you as you take your pictures. Sam pulls his out next and you all pose like you're all just a bunch of friends for the gram, same with Colby when he takes his.

You then take the ones that are just for you guys that involve kissing and being cute and flirty.

You loved those ones the most.

"What a way to ring in the new year." Sam jokes and you look at him, "What by breaking the internet?"

"That won't happen until later. People are bound to blab that you kissed us both." Colby shrugs, "It's whatever at this point. You've been close with both of us for years, so.."

"It'll be fine. It's not every year we get invited to this high of a class party, right?" You fix Colby's jacket, "You guys look so good."

"Not as good as you." Sam wraps his arm around your waist and checks his phone, "Car is here."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

As you make your way into the venue, your arms linked with each of theirs, “This place is so fancy.” You grab the champagne glass from Sam’s hand, flashing him a smile, “Thank you, baby.”

He smiles and nods, “Anything for you.”

“Alright.” Colby slides his hand down your back, “Were going to go say hi to some people, do you want to come with?”

You eyes scan over the room and you smile when you see Kris and Celina, “I’m going to go say hi to them.” You point and wave when they see you. The motion for you to come over and you nod, looking at Sam and Colby, “Come and find me then.”

They smile and nod, watching you walk off before turning to go greet their own people.

“Happy new year, guys!” You walk up, hugging them both, “Wow, you guys look great!” Your eyes move up to Kris’ now red hair, “Red is your color, babes.”

She smiles, pushing her hair with the palm of her hand, “Why thank you.”

“So..” Celina leans in, “What’s the scoop with that?” She subtly points to Sam and Colby and you shake your head, “No scoop. Just known them for years.”

She squints and leans back slowly, “Ahh. I’m sensing there’s more to it, but..” she laughs, “I’m sure you’ll tell me eventually.”

You bite your lip, looking between them before you sigh, “Can you guys do me a favor?”

They both nod and lean in, “Spill the tea, miss y/n. I’m here for it.” Kris laughs and goes serious. You glance back at Sam and Colby before looking at the girls again, “Don’t be surprised if I kiss both of them tonight.”

“O-oh. Oh.” Celina raises her brows and leans back, “Damn girl. You bagged both of them?”

“How the hell did you manage that?” Kris smirks, “I’m happy for you guys.” She snaps, looking at Celina, “That’s why they’ve been so freaking happy lately.”

“They’ve been happier?” You smile and she nods, “Oh yeah. When we met up with them for our last video, they were all giddy and hiding their phones. I was wondering what the fuck that was all about.”

“You’re the perfect girl for them.” Celina rubs your arm, “I had a hunch, you know..” she shrugs her shoulders and smirks, “But I didn’t want to just assume but are we the only ones that know?”

You nod, “Yeah, so if you could ju-“

Kris and Celina drag their fingers over their lips, indicating that they’re locking them. They pretend to give the key to each other and they both throw them.

“Done.” Kris says.

“And done.” Celina smirks and sighs, “I feel so powerful.”

You laugh, “I wanted to tell you guys, but we were just..” you put air quotes, “Friends.. right now.”

They nod, “It’s totally understandable.” Kris nods, “We got your back, babes.” Her accent is slightly British and you can’t help but laugh, “Thank you.”

Sam and Colby walk up, saying hello to the girls and you can’t help but smirk, “They know.”

“Well, guess the cat’s out of the bag on this one, yeah?” Sam laughs and shakes his head. Kris lays a hand on his shoulder, “You got a good one. Don’t mess this up.” She looks from Sam to Colby, “Talking to you too, Mr.”

Colby nods, “Trust me. We don’t plan on it. I promise.”

“So how does that work.” Celina asks and you all laugh, “What do you mean, like.. the sex.. or?” You tilt your head, waiting for her to think about what she wants to say, “I mean.. yeah.” She nods, “Everything.”

The boys can’t help but laugh, “Oh god.” Sam groans, “Don’t out us like that.”

“I’m not..” you give them an, I’ll tell you all about it later on, look and Kris winks, nodding. Celina gives you a thumbs up, leaving Sam and Colby confused.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few hours of dancing, drinking, and more mingling go by and suddenly everyone is cheering.

“Is it almost time?” You turn, looking at Sam who is standing behind you on the dance floor. He nods, “Yep. Gotta go find Colby.” He takes your hand in his, leading you through the crowd as you walk back towards the small group of your friends, “Hey!”

“Countdown is starting soon!” Celina says, pointing to the screen. You look at Colby, smiling at him once his eyes meet yours.

He walks over to you, laying a hand on your hip, “You ready to ring in the new year?”

You giggle, slightly tipsy from all the drinks, “I sure am.”

Suddenly everyone around you starts counting down loudly in unison, “Ten.. nine.. eight.. seven.. six..”

Sam and Colby both have their arms around your waist, counting down with everyone, “..Five.. four.. three.. two.. one!”

“Happy new year!”

You look up, Sam leans in first, planting his lips on yours, “Happy new year, baby.” He smiles as he leans back and you smile at him, “Happy new year.”

You look at Colby, still smiling until he places his lips on yours, whispering a quiet, “Happy new year, sweetheart.”

“Happy new year.” You smile up at him, turning to look at Kris and Celina who are just standing there with wide smiles.

“Happy new year!” You walk over to them, hugging them both. They hug you back, telling you how happy they are for you.

You guys raise your glasses, “Here to 2024!”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

This was just a short, welcome 2024 thing. I hope the new year treats you all very good!

Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are appreciated

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nevver · 1 year

Text

Name that emotion

Chrysalism [kris-a-lizim] The feeling of tranquility when you’re indoors when it’s raining heavily outside.

Lilo [ly-lo] The friendship between two people who feel as if no time has passed when they see each other after a long period of separation.

Sonder [son-der] The realization that every stranger and passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. That each person is occupied by their own personal ambitions, worries, and problems.

Monachopsis [mo-na-kop-sis] The inability to adapt to your surroundings and the feeling of being out of place.

Eramnesia [eram-nee-ja] The realization that you were born in the wrong time period, wishing you lived in another time.

Anemoia [an-em-oh-ya] The feeling of nostalgia for a time or place that you have never experienced.

Pâro [pah-ro] The feeling that no matter what you do, you’re doing it wrong.

Xeno [zee-noh] The powerful moments shared between random strangers, such as a smile or a laugh, which reduce feelings of loneliness.

Acatalepsy [aka-ta-lep-sy] The apparent impossibility of humans ever comprehending the universe.

Liberosis [lib-ero-sis] The desire to care less about things, to feel less.

*more

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mayhemories · 1 year

Note

Hi! Can I request a continuation of Teacher's Pet if you're okay doing it? reader takes the kids on a field trip to see whatever animal/cool thing in the rainforest (up to you) Neteyam and a couple warriors volunteer as chaperones to protect you and the kiddos for safety. He volunteered cuz duty but also saw this as a opportunity to get closer to reader 😈 During the field trip he notices one of the warriors try to flirt with Reader. Neteyam is SO jealous about this.

gif: @world-of-pandora

Teacher's Pet Pt. 2

Anon when I saw this request I nearly passed out bc I thought I had accidentally leaked a part of the plot to this chapter. Wtf great minds think alike <3 hope my vision was satisfying for you!! I'm incredibly anxious about this one not being as good as the first one.

Don’t attack me because this part took so long. I was travelling between continents, have two assignments due and writing multiple works at once 🫡 trying my absolute best here. Some of my tags are working and some are broken! I’m so sorry if you asked to be tagged and it did not work for you - it was not on purpose.

------

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Swearing. Reader is slightly harassed/made uncomfortable by a male character (Neteyam doesn’t let it last for long). Neteyam is an adult with adult thoughts, Reader is an adult with adult thoughts, albeit a little innocent (just in her nature).

Words: 3.2k

Author’s Notes: Direct continuation of Teacher’s Pet, you can find part one here ←

Taglist: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila @itssiaaax @mashiromochi @punkrockrogers @simpforboys @casiia @neytirqs @oh-austin @eywas-heir

Fic Taglist: @neteyamore @waaakemeeeup @tejas-kris @gardenofvows @nuhteyam @m4nd0l0r @bobojojoba69 @sydhersom @fanboyluvr @humbug5 @viviartsy @izzytheconosieur @dreamybiitch @heaven1oo4 @myheartfollower @agelsully @slythermania @neteyamyam15 @bealone-prm @okaylorrainee @koryianders @uwu-i-purple-you @jackiehollanderr @b-tchymoon @gloryavila @reneyahh

Continue reading under the cut:

It had been a week since dinner with the Sully’s, with your favourite student and her incredibly, incredibly attractive brother.

Neteyam.

His name has been running around your mind, stretching and weaving its way around every thought like a songchord every moment since you left his family home. You could not help but feel ashamed at the thoughts your mind had conjured regarding the warrior, regarding his hands and lips and strong arms. A blush broke out across your face, recollecting the private crevasses of your own mind, feeling as though everyone around you could see, could hear, what you dreamed of.

“y/n!” Neteyam yelled out to you before he could stop himself. He had just come home from rounds, and his visceral yearning for you could not be halted, if he did not see you immediately he probably would’ve ripped the entire village apart until your figure appeared. And how Eywa had blessed him with seeing your face straight away.

You spun, facing him, looking almost shocked that he had found you in the bustle of the afternoon. And, to his delight, he could’ve sworn that a light smile graced your beautiful face, in addition to a light, fading blush.

“Neteyam,” Your voice was so beautiful, so, so, so beautiful. Like a song Neteyam never grew sick of. “Can I help you with something?” You asked, gently. Head slightly cocked. Neteyam couldn’t help himself, his body reacting without his brain, his arm reaching for your own, resting it just above your elbow.

Your entire body felt like it had been set alight. Neteyam’s light grip on your arm made you feel numb, made you feel like you were floating. And how, how, were you supposed to listen, to comprehend anything he said to you?

“No, no, but I was uh-” Neteyam stuttured, he hated how unsure he was around you, how nervous you made him. “I was wondering if I could help you.” He finished.

Yes. Yes, he could. He could help you in so many ways that you wished you could voice to him.

“How so?” You tried to remain professional, remain calm. But Neteyam still hadn’t removed his damn hand and all you could think about was how you wanted his hands. Both of them. Everywhere.

Neteyam let out a nervous chuckle, his hand retreating from your arm, finding its home at the back of his neck. Something that you had clocked as a nervous tick, though you could never work out why someone like Neteyam, a handsome, strong and mighty warrior was nervous talking to you, a simple teacher.

“Tuk let it slip that you and the kids plan to visit the syaksyuk tomorrow,” Neteyam felt his cheeks start to burn. He felt like slapping himself in the face, he needed to wake up, needed to collect himself. His father and brother would laugh at him for this interaction, he knew it. “To go that far into the jungle, alone, looking after twenty-something kids is dangerous.”

You looked down at your feet, and Neteyam felt guilty, felt like he was scolding you. God, he wasn’t much better than his father.

Your mind was wheeling. You and the kids. You and the kids. You knew, realistically what Neteyam had been referring to. Was it so wrong to wish for him to mean something else by it, though? You and our kids. That was what your heart longed to hear one day.

“Would you chaperone us, Neteyam?” You asked sweetly. You tried to catch his strong eyeline, and when you did you felt the warm, flowing feeling pool in your chest. Looking at him was like taking your first breath after emerging from a pond, being around him was like feeling warmth after your marrow had been frozen. He made you feel so, so very alive. Alive and incandescent and important.

Maybe, maybe it was incredibly selfish of you that you used your students as a front, used his sister as an excuse to see him. But you chased that feeling, you sought out his defiblirating presence.

Neteyam felt like he was flying, felt like he was dying. Like he had flown too close to a tree and his actions had finally caught up to him. And here you were, offering him everything he has ever wanted, so simply, like it was nothing at all. Fuck, he loved you for it.

You made a reach for him, your own hand mirroring the placement he had on you only moments ago, desperate for that blood-pumping high.

“Only if you’re not busy of course-”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure-”

Neteyam and yourself had spoken at the same time. Two bashful morons who could obviously not contain themselves in eachothers presence. Well, thats what it felt like to Neteyam, anyway. Despite the fact that you were the most intelligent Na’vi he had anything to do with.

“I can bring a couple of hunters, if you’d like.” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why would he do that? Neteyam can’t help run his dumbass mouth, he had secured the situation and fumbled it within seconds. All he wanted was to have more moments with you, alone. Or alone as one can get with a gaggle of children at your feet.

Not that Neteyam minded seeing a bunch of children at your feet.

And just like that, that beautiful blooming, romanticism errurpted in your chest, it died. You felt naive, you thought that Neteyam was angling at a moment, somewhat, alone. But him being the perfect, golden man that he was, cared genuinely about your safety. Cared about your class’ safety. Eywa damn it, his sister’s safety. All over again, you felt yourself running amock in your own thoughts. Was it not incredibly kind that he would give up his time to chaperone you and your class? He would only offer if he cared. You did not stop the love that unfurled in your chest.

“Thank you, Neteyam.” You offered the man a smile, hoping he would sense your genuine excitement. “That’s extremely generous of you, I know how short on free time you are.”

Neteyam was so, so happy. He felt like crying. He just doesn’t understand how you do it. Neteyam, as if being controlled, like a ghost in his shell, let his hand find yours that laid still on his arm, covering your hand.

Everything was so effortless with you, so right. He did not just feel acknowledged or witnessed. But perceived, you saw him. Neteyam knew he was projecting. All he did know, though, was that he saw you. All he could wish for was that maybe, Eywa willing, you would see him too.

Lo’ak was getting increasingly more pissed off. Watching Neteyam pussyfoot around you was painful. At first, it was hilarious. So hilarious that even his Dad got in on it. Jake found himself leaning against a support beam, Lo’ak a hairsbreadth away from him. The two of them watching his eldest son, watching his baby boy absolutely make a fool of himself.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Lo’ak.” Jake laughed lightly, shaking his head. Lo’ak had heard that sentence alot, usually in regard to his behaviour, but this time it was his father laughing at his older brother and Lo’ak was incredibly thankful he wasn’t on the end of it this time.

“It’s embarassing.” Lo’ak agreed.

Jake sighed. He didn’t realise how much Neteyam lacked in confidence. In the back of his mind, in the deep, dark part that Jake kept hidden, he couldn’t help to wonder if it was his fault that his eldest struggled to express himself.

“Neteyam!”

Immediately your hand flew to your side, a blush exploded across your face and ears, you did not know why you were embarrassed that Jake Sully had caught you and Neteyam out- you were doing nothing wrong, anyway.

But Neteyam’s mirroring blush said otherwise.

“Time for dinner, boy!” As quick as he announced his presence from a few tents away, Toruk Macto was gone, disappeared into the threshold of his own home.

“Bring your girlfriend!” Neteyam’s younger brother, Lo’ak called out. Following his father he quickly made himself scarse. You felt Neteyam grow rigid at the younger boy’s teasing words.

Your blush deepened, and you cursed yourself for turning into a blushing, dumbstruck girl everytime Neteyam was near.

“I’m uh,” Your heart fluttered everytime the precise, calculated warrior stuttured. “I’m sorry for them, they’re just teasing.” Neteyam looked sincre in his apology, but just as embarrassed as you had been.

You laughed, shooing him away. His searing presence had become too much.

“It’s alright, ma Neteyam.” You giggled, you were obviously unaware of what you had just said. Neteyam felt like a hunter going in for the kill with how aware of your words he was. He was enamoured. So fucking in love with you, it was beginning to hurt. “Go, go have a feast with your family.”

You smiled and Neteyam wanted to commit it to memory, etch it into his brain, a permanent reminder of your glowing nature.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Neteyam returned the smile, stalking his way to his family home.

And maybe it was his broad shoulders, or the way his braids moved as he walked. Maybe it was how confident he made you, or how much you wanted him, you didn’t know. But you could not stop the bold streak that only Neteyam could conjure:

“Neteyam!” You called out, the boy spun, halfway home, brow cocked. “It would be an honour to be your girlfriend, you know!” Echoing the words that his brother had teased him with, you decided not to stay to give him the satisfaction of the last word, you waved goodbye before ducking into your own tent.

Neteyam chuckled, like a young boy in trouble. All the way home.

Later that night, while he was trying to find sleep in his private quarters of his family home. Neteyam tossed and turned in his hammock. His thoughts chasing the ghostly figure of you in his minds eye. As he so often did. But this time, words that he would only imagine you saying were replaced with memory.

Ma Neteyam. Ma Neteyam. Ma Neteyam.

God. He wanted nothing more than to be yours. To court you, to mate you, to build a home, create a nest for your eventual tribe of children.

Normally at this point, Neteyam would start to feel guilty, to hold thoughts of you this way in his heart, and dirtier thoughts of you in his head. But as his hand snaked down between his legs, to his throbbing member, Neteyam dwelled on your parting words to him.

It would be an honour to be your girlfriend, you know.

And the guilt did not come for him.

“Children, before we head out to go see the beautiful syaksyuk, I want you all to say a big thank you.” You gestured to Neteyam, and the two other warriors he had conned into chaperoning you and your class. The four adults and twenty-two Na’vi children stood at the precipice of the wild jungle.

“Thank you Ayo’to,” Your class echoed as you placed your hands on the shoulder of the youngest Na’vi warrior that had joined you today, working your way down the line, behind the young men. “Thank you Marek,” you moved along to the shoulders of the next hunter. You found your hands stalling when you reached Neteyam. You went onto your tippy toes, your eyes just peaking over Neteyam’s broad shoulders, giggles rang out from the kids, as one of your hands found Neteyam’s shoulder, the other one wrapping around his taunt bicep.

“Thank you Neteyam.” You said, along with your kids, his honey eyes finding your own and you wished you could live in his line of sight forever.

You pulled away, after leaving your hands a beat too long. You ushered the children to follow you, as your chaperones dispersed themselves around. Smiling to yourself, as you realised that Neteyam bought up the rear, sticking incredibly close to the few children in the back of the group.

So fatherly, so protective, your heart swelled at the sight.

“Neteyam is my brother.” You heard Tuk whisper to another boy in the class, who was watching the man in awe. Smiling softly to yourself, you were so thankful that you had the confidence to accept Neteyam’s offer of protection in the first place.

Neteyam felt the smile plaster itself to his face, as he watched you teach the kids. He felt alive as your tail swished back and forth, happily. As you crouched down to be the same height as your students, to point out flora and fauna, to help them learn and love the gift of nature around them.

He could not help to think how stunning you looked, out here in the morning light of the jungle. How your big, bright eyes glittered when your students answered something right, or engaged in asking questions.

But to his dismay, the two young hunters Neteyam had pulled to help out, noticed your beauty too. And this soured his mood, greatly.

He felt livid as he watched Marek’s trained eyes find their target on your ass. He wanted to punch Ayo’to in his square, stupid face everytime he pulled a large leaf back for you. But, the worst part of it all was that this was Neteyam’s own fucking fault. He offered additional help, he picked these two grunts.

He was incredibly unhappy with his choices.

As you held a slender finger to your plush lips, signaling for the kids to be quiet as you ushered them into a clearing, Neteyam felt guilty for his sudden shift in mood. You were so stunning, so happy. You did not notice how the other two men treated you. You were so focused on the kids, on their education, on their happiness.

Neteyam felt a tug on his hand, Tuk had almost ignored him the whole walk, enraptured with everything you had said.

“What’s wrong Neteyam?” Tuk asked, her voice no louder than a whisper. Neteyam loved his sister, loved her keen eye for her family. He noticed that she shared that keen eye with you, too. Like you were her family, too.

“Shh, nothing, go sit with the others and listen to (y/n).” Neteyam urged Tuk on. The young girl quickly sat in the grass with the other children, their eyes trained on their teacher, despite their surroundings.

That was just another thing Neteyam found himself loving about you. Your ability to hold a room, to command attention without explicitly asking for it. He smiled to himself as he thought it was a great trait for a Tsahik.

“Kids we must be quiet, must be still as we wait for the syaksyuk.” You walked from the front of the class, to the back, watching them as every Na’vi child had their eyes glued to the tree canopy, waiting for any sign of the blue and yellow primates.

“You’re a great teacher.” One of the hunters, Marek, had suddenly appeared next to you, whispering in your right ear. "Maybe you could teach me something, sometime." You blushed at the young man’s comments, but it was not the same blush you held for Neteyam. It was different. You were in discomfort.

“Thank you,” You willed yourself to remain calm, remain professional, in a hushed voice to not scare away the syaksyuk, or be loud enough for the children to hear. “I appreciate that you’ve given time to assist me and my class today.” You kept your words clipped, hoping that your tone and lack of eye contact would push your feelings clearly.

Though you doubt the boy, the man, Marek, you doubted the fact that he cared much about your feelings.

“Is anyone courting you, (y/n)?” You felt the hunter’s hot breat fan across your neck, you felt like his prey, trapped against his chest and an invisible wall of professionalism standing behind your class. You knew there was nothing explicit in his question, outright. But it was the lewd undertones that had you nervous.

Where was Neteyam?

“I do not think that is an appropriate question, Marek.” You wished your words had not fallen out of your mouth, shakily, but they had. They had and now he knew you were nervous.

Where the fuck was Neteyam?

Neteyam was seeing red, was fuming.

Marek had crossed a line getting so close to you, that was a given. But as Neteyam watched the bead of sweat roll down your face, watch as your eyes flicked back and forth in front of you, that was enough.

Silently, as to not interrupt the children’s viewing of the syaksyuk, Neteyam made his way over.

He heard Marek ask about courting.

He heard your curt reply. But between your words he could hear your uneasy nature. He could hear the rising panic.

“You’re excused, Marek.” Neteyam put his hand out to you, relief flooded him as you quickly pulled yourself against his arm and chest, a beat away from Marek and his looming figure.

“But-” Neteyam cut the hunter off, sick of seeing his stupid face.

“I want you gone, now. Be quick and quiet about it.”

You felt like a fool, holding onto Neteyam’s strong hand for dear life. Marek wouldn’t have done anything to you here, not infront of the kids. But it was the fear of it, creeping around in the back of your mind that upset you, nonetheless.

“Yes Sir.”

You watched quietly as Marek fled through the brush of the jungle. Silent like the hunter he was. You watched as he pulled the other young hunter, Ayo’to along with him.

It was you, and Neteyam, and the kids, of course.

“Are you alright, ma (y/n)?” Neteyam asked softly, pulling your back to his toned chest, his chin resting on the top of your head, large, muscled arms snaking around your waist to hold you tightly against him. Protecting you from any harm.

You could not help but to lean into his touch, lean into your love for the man. You knew your brain would pick itself raw over the use of that prefix later, now was for you and him. Now was for your kids and the swinging syaksyuk that had appeared through the canopy.

You rested your hands on top of his own, “I’m alright now, ma Neteyam.” You whispered as the kids began to ooh and ahh at the syaksyuk. Giggling as the primates chattered through the trees.

You allowed yourself to laugh with the kids, allowed your mind to wander to the daydreams you have of loving Neteyam. Allowed yourself to conjure and image of your firstborn sitting on his father’s shoulders, enraptured with the world around them.

You let yourself feed into that dream as you felt Neteyam’s very real lips ghost over your hairline, above your left ear. He left nothing but a thought of a kiss there, and you felt that same blooming in your chest.

“Have dinner with me tonight.” Neteyam gently whispered once more, this time laying a tangible, corporeal kiss above your ear.

You could’ve folded, in half, then and there if it wasn’t for Neteyam’s strong hold.

“Anything you want, Neteyam.” You whispered back to him, cocking your head to look up at him. You noticed the muscle flick in his jaw as he looked ahead, pretending not to see your line of sight. Gently, you placed a small kiss on his jawbone. Featherlight, it could’ve vanished if he wished it to.

You hoped he did not wish it to.

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enderfenderdragon · 3 months

Text

how would He react?

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how would Colby Brock react if you played a prank on him while you were 'alone' in a haunted mansion's ball room.

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warnings!: Colby Brock x reader, Mostly gender-neutral reader, i little spicy, kind of fluffy, no use of "y/n", bad grammar.

not proof read!

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if you don't like what you read in the warnings. please don't read. scroll away or even ignore me and this post. please don't leave a comment if it won't be nice or anything. if you do decide to leave a comment. i will delete the comment and block you, and your blog.

thank you :D

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you thought it was a good idea for you to play a prank on your boyfriend - Colby Brock. while you were exploring a haunted mansion.

you, Sam, Colby, Celina and kris were going to have to slit up for a while. one of Sam and Colby's 'investigation tactics' or whatever this was.

luckily, you and Colby was partnered up for this because you were supposed to investigate a big section of the mansion - the ball room.

it was about two minutes in when you thought this was going to be your moment to prank him.

so you walk up to Colby and cups his cheeks from behind. you get him to lean backwards somehow and you put your lips next to his left ear. you then rip out the most sinful moan you've ever made, right into his ear.

Colby jumps forwards. He whips around at stares at you with worry and confusion all over his face. part of this prank was that you had to act like nothing happened while your partner withered away in their dirty mind. You stared back at him and smiled sweetly, as if nothing happened.

"there was a mozzie on your left shoulder, i was getting it off for you" you say sweetly, innocently and nervously.

"oh was there?" Colby says back, stalking towards you.

you back away from him until you cant anymore. your back bumps the wall of the ball room. you look back, and looked so pale someone would think you've seen a ghost.

Colby's hands block you way out. trapping you against the freezing, ruff bricks that made up the wall of the ball room.

"C-Colby, we have to i-investigate" you stutter, obviously nervous and scared.

"tsk, tsk, tsk.... that can wait" he all most growls.

"wha-" you don't even finish a word when his lips come crashing down on yours, sucking the life and breath out of you.

"C-Colby!" you shout as Colby's lips trail down your neck. Planting wet kisses on the sensitive skin He oh so loved.

the only sounds heard from the ball room was the rem-pod and wet kisses.

"Colby, the rem pod is going off...." you trail off. Staring at the rem-pod glowing green.

Colby thankfully turns his head around and stares at the rem-pod.

"mhm, it seems so" Colby says lowly. making you squeeze your legs together.

Colby turns his head towards you and stares you down.

"so." He starts. you turn your head just a smidge. your eyes never leaving his own, blue eyes.

"why did you do that baby?" he says lowly, tilting his head so little you would have never noticed, if you weren't staring him down.

you gulp and squeak out "d-do what?"

Colby chuckles and shakes his head, looking down.

"you moaned in my ear..... do you have any idea how hard it is to hold back yourself when your partner wears your clothes?" he mentions to your 'clothes'. also his favourite hoodie and pants.

"hey you have good taste and.... they're comfy" you mumble, looking down at your shoes.

Colby's hand gently cups your chin and tilts it up so you lock eyes with him.

"what can i say? i have good taste in a lot of things...." he trails off, looking you up and down once biting his lip to stop him from finishing his sentence.

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lets just say you couldn't walk or stand after that night you had with him.

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requests open.

this wasn't a request, it was just an idea that i decided to write last minute.

217 notes · View notes

akanemnon · 1 day

Note

I LOVE YOUR AAART!❤️❤️❤️

I hope you get better soon, you're the biggest inspiration I have in my art, and if you need a rest or is having a bad, YOU DESERVE A REST!

I have a Storyshift take in which Frisk looks similar to Kris. Why? Because of the: "Kris is Frisk's Deltarune counterpart" in Which I Only discovered that existed because of your comic!

They are here ↑

And just to show appreciation...

They with the red shadow in the hair they have in Twin Runes!

I wish you a good day, and that whatever you're going through pass.

Oh no , no! Frisk has a case of the depression! /j

It seriously means a lot to me when my silly little comics get to inspire people in their art, writing and own projects in general! That is the biggest compliment any artist can get!

Your sprite work is really lovely by the way! Whish you lots of luck with your project!

#ask #twin runes #ask akane #queued post #frisk

129 notes · View notes

rosie-writings · 4 months

Text

Breathe Me Out, Drink You In

Summary: After the wedding, you and Sam find each other alone in the dressing room and again in the bathroom of your wedding night suite.

Warnings: Sam x Reader smut, Unprotected sex, Semi public, Blowjob, Sex in bath, all the fluff during rough sex

Words: 4.5K

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘Telomeres’ by Sleep Token

Sam had the eyes that I would wake up to every morning for the rest of my life.

I could tell; feel it. Somethings people simply know. And I knew. As ridiculous as that sounded, I knew how it sounded, it was true.

The first time I saw him, it took my friend yanking on my arm to get me to look away. After I answered her, I looked back at him, and his eyes, ever blue and unblinking, still held my body.

I went home with him that night, and it wasn't a secret for anyone. He kicked out his roommates who were there at that club and their sparkling eyes and jeering smiles were the last memory I had before I got that blond alone.

He woke up first and brushed my hair and kissed me awake. I didn't leave for two days.

I also don't remember the last time I had sex that much in two days. It was enough to almost ask my therapist if my addictions swapped up for a weekend.

I didn't leave until his sleepy looking roommate—the one with the dark hair and leather jackets—came home not caring what he ran into or heard because he simply wanted to sleep in his own bed. I couldn't blame him. I wondered how much he ripped into Sam, after I left, for having to hear us through their shared walls.

For such a large house, I was caught off guard that their bedrooms shared walls.

Now it made sense. They wanted to be as close as possible to each other without actually sharing a bed at night.

It took fourteen months for Sam to propose to me. Then he told me he spent the past seven trying to convince Colby.

Our lives mended easily. For as big of YouTube channels they both had and shared, I was completely shocked that I didn't know who they were. They didn't know me, but I too made a living making silly videos.

“Out of everyone, though,” Colby eventually pulled me aside at our engagement party two months ago, “I'm not surprised he chose you. I mean; you're both made for each other. In what other world would it feel right for a couple to get engaged seven months after meeting?”

Seven months after meeting.

That was how I knew Colby knew that I was the one for his best friend; he agreed the first time Sam asked, but he didn't want to lose him. He didn't want to lose him to the possibility of being heart broken.

It was clear as day, now, to all of us; our entire friend group.

I was theirs, they were mine.

And Sam and I were one.

“Literally-Literally—no really—I told her that—” Sam broke into laughter as the music drowned his words. I smiled and tried to keep down my own laughs as much as possible from the recognition of the story he told. His arm hung around my neck with a drink in his hand. While he was distracted in conversation, I sipped from it. Tara gave me a look. “So I told her that—I was like ‘Yeah no, no we’re getting married in May, you know,’” Sam’s voice was soft as he remembered the words I listened to him tell that one Hotel manager. God, he was so awkward in that moment I was surprised his face didn’t flare pink.

”And she gave me a look and looked her up and down and tells her that she wasn’t the one girl we’ve brought there.” At that point I burst out laughing. I remembered the hotel; it wasn’t even a hotel that gave us enough substance or evidence so we fucked around during the entire video.

I still get hate for not being serious enough in that video.

”And I look at her, apparently shocked, and before I say anything she goes ‘You see a lot of things working at hotels for as long as I have-‘ I cut her off laughing and she’s just glaring at me, I go ‘Oh you mean that one blonde and brunette? That’s literally Kris and Celina our best friends from Canada.’ And I’m not joking, right at that moment, Colby’s coming back from grabbing shit and doesn’t see her and says ‘Alright babes, ready to find ghost pussy?’” Sam takes a step back, and my best friend who tood across from me burst out laughing; the friend next to her dropped her jaw.

”To be clear,” I laughed. “It was almost three am by that point, we had two energy drinks, and from our first investigation, we knew there wasn’t jack shit there so it was like moral support for us to not start breaking down sobbing.”

”Oh my god!” Our friend cried as she sucked literal tears in. “That’s why she gave us such weird looks when we checked in!” Tears actually fell by now. My best friend and a couple other girls also stayed at the hotel a week after me, Sam and Colby stayed, and they booked the same room under the boys’ names since it was in the middle of a chain of investigations we did together. It was easier for them to book all the rooms under their names, and the girls and I booked all the flights.

”Dude, there is no way I’m going back,” I sobbed. “It was too funny.”

”I’m so embarrassed,” Sam gasped through laughter. “Like what does she think—“

”I know,” my best friend cried.

Our voices were roughened by the alcohol and the sheer decibel we had to shout over the music and other heightened conversations. We were outside; the sun set halfway behind the ocean horizon and shot orange stripes across the once blue sky.

It was the night before our wedding.

Instead of individual bachelor/bachelorette parties, we combined our weddings parties and went out. This was a lounge we went to once before, and we talked about it for months and months after. It was a phenomenal night. Of course we chose this place for this special moment.

Sam didn’t leave my side all night.

I tried my hardest to not look at him because if I did, I would never look away and then it would escalate into things our best friends would be traumatized seeing.

“I love you,” he said later in the night when the strand lights that encompassed the ever large pergola outside the lounge we danced under. “God, I love you so much it scares me.” I nodded. I didn’t move other than the tiny movements we made; we stopped dancing completely regardless of the loud music and other busybodies around us.

“I know,” I hummed. My arms rested around his neck. He caved towards the drag of my thumb on his skin. “Love you too, so much.” My voice fell into a whisper.

The next time I saw him, it was at the altar.

I told him I wanted him to wear white too because he was just as much mine as I was his. We were married in the garden of a hotel downtown; the reception inside opulent but simple and blended with the art deco chandeliers and plush green carpets. Other than the room, there really was no color in our wedding.

Everyone wore white. My bridesmaids’ dresses were a-line slip in champagne and the groomsmen wore off white suits with minimal black accents; the only thing that separated Sam and I. We didn't wear anything other than white.

After, when the adrenaline settled and the taste of Sam's committal kiss still on my lips, we stood upstairs. We took photos outside before we shared a flute of champagne privately.

“Alright, reception is in 10.” I remember Colby telling us as he ushered the rest of the wedding party out. A wave of nervousness hit my stomach when he led them all out. My best friend gave me a look and I swore my face burned.

As the door closed, Sam moved into my vision. He looked at me without saying a word. My ears rang in the silence; I figured that his did too. Then, his hand reached up and held my face. I basked in his gaze as his eyes raced all over me.

He kissed me sweetly. I hummed as I tasted the same champagne in his cool mouth, and I took him deeper and deeper until his body flushed with mine.

”Sam,” I moaned quietly. His mouth raced down my neck and my hand tangled in his hair. I pulled him back since much was on my mind.

“I haven’t been able to-to basically worship you all day. You look unbelievable, you think I’m not going to take this time to touch you?”

“Sam—“ I gasped his name when he rushed me and pinned me against the wall with a kiss. Melted into it, my hands wrapped around his neck, and he pried his hips in between my legs. ”Oh my god,” I gasped when I realized what he wanted; what we were about to do. “We have ten minutes.”

”And you haven’t been wanting me to touch you for the past two hours?” My face heated.

That was what those explicit messages he sent me while I got ready with my bridesmaids were for.

”Hurry,” I whispered, and so he did.

One of my legs was over his elbow as he finished tugging at his pants.

“Oh my fucking god—“ His whisper rushed out fast as his fingers navigated my underwear—the lingerie I planned for him to tear off later, not now—and shoved his fingers into the warmth he created.

”No-No,” I moaned as his fingers filled me over and over. “Just get inside me.”

He didn’t fight it. Something about our precarious situation and lack of time added fire under my skin; I liked when he listened to what I demanded of him. Of course it was only in these situations.

“Fuck me,” I whispered with a tone that was entirely too sweet for the vulgar words. “Holy shit—” He held my neck, thumb hooked under my chin, as his other hand left an imprint in my hip.

“Yeah?” He was so quiet that I hardly heard him, and it left my legs so weak I was grateful he held me up. “I'm going to cum in you and then we're going to party with our friends at the reception and my cum is going to stay there making a mess between your legs and you're not going to clean it up, right?”

“Fuck—Yes,” I gasped so entirely quietly and meekly that I had to close my eyes. I almost passed out. With a louder moan, he leaned against me and placed kisses on my neck.

“Touch yourself-Touch yourself for me, make yourself cum with me,” he whispered in my hair. I shoved a hand in between us and made myself see stars with him. “Yeah,” he laughed when my legs gave out. He fucked into me harder to keep me up against the wall.

“Going to,” I cried.

“Yeah?” He teased; his voice raised in a breathy question and he stood back up again. Our noses almost touched he was so close. “Better cum so hard around me; make me cum, make me fill you.”

He was right there.

My eyes were closed; tears burned my eyes. I wondered if one fell because his thumb wiped under my eye.

“Know you want it, don't you? I know you want me inside you out there. I know you love thinking about my cum dripping down your legs in front of everyone. Love feeling me inside of you all the ti—”

My orgasm grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall.

“Oh shit—” he moaned loudly as his body lurched forward into mine. God, he was right. I loved it. I also loved that my body could demand his orgasm from him at my will.

He moaned my name as he finished our climaxes and held himself against the wall as well.

We caught our breaths; his forehead rested on mine.

“Come on, my love,” he gasped breathlessly. Then he kissed me slowly as he gently pulled out of me and let my leg down. I stumbled into him but did not pull away from his mouth.

I thought about his taste as we walked hand in hand downstairs where we were announced into the reception.

The night was a blur.

Between kisses, dances, tears, and drinks, I forgot most of the night. I knew I was happier than I ever had been, and with Sam’s hand in mine, it was enough for me.

Until we were alone.

I remembered my arms coiled around his. I remembered leaving kisses across his face and neck. It took everything in his power to keep his hands on the wheel as my hands roamed his body.

Finally.

It was like my senses came to me the moment the door closed, and we were alone in our silent hotel suite.

My heart raced as his hands brushed my hair over my shoulder. I looked down at the loose waves as his fingers undid my dress. Every brush of his fingers down the skin of back sent waves of chills across my skin. I swallowed tightly. When my dress was loose enough, I stepped out of it and he lightly tossed it back; draped over the chair for us to deal with later.

Then I turned and faced him. His eyes hazed with need, and I grabbed his neck and kissed him tightly. He hummed into my mouth, and I drank in every noise he made.

I couldn’t resist. My fingers went for the buttons of his clothes, and he sighed a breath of contentment and tipped his head back in pleasure. His hands never left my body as I unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it to my dress. Then I worked on his button up and it slipped to the floor leaving him only in his pants.

He only had an inch on me—at least—with these shoes on, and I had to admit, I liked it. But then he dove down to his knees.

“Sam,” I gasped. My hand tangled in his hair. I didn’t care that his hair was sweaty and warm, and his body even more so. We were both disgusting by now. After the long day we had of covering our bodies with our thick clothes, sweat, kisses, and arousals, of course it wasn’t perfect. Of course we weren’t clean. But what did it matter?

And that was when my heart skipped beats.

I looked down, and Sam stared up at me darkly as his hands moved down my legs to unclamp my shoes. The image of my body standing in front of him—hardly covered in the ivory lingerie—while he kissed my skin and untied my shoes almost took both of my knees out.

When my shoes were with his a few feet away from us, he kissed up my body and paused at my thighs. He still was on his knees, and I was sure I held onto his hair so I wouldn’t fall over.

”Oh my god—“ he gasped.

To be honest, it was disgusting. I felt gross and my lingerie was nasty by now, but heat flooded my body when his fingers trailed the remnants of his cum that had slipped down my skin during the reception.

“Sam,” I repeated his name. What other words did I know? I moaned as his tongue replaced his fingers and finally, he pulled the lace to the side. “Fuck—“ I gasped when his mouth moved up and up until it tasted my arousal. “Please.” I stumbled. “I-I can’t—“

”I know,” he sighed after he selfishly stole a few more seconds of tasting me. Then he stood up. “God, I love you.” He kissed me. “I love you, love you,” and he kissed me again. It took everything in my power to let him go.

My stomach fell from its place when he walked to the bath and ran the hot water.

I walked over to him. My hand raced over his back. He stood up to me, kissed me.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Get in, I’ll get us drinks.”

”I-I mean, okay, but I’m still wearing—“

”Get in,” he gently doubled down. His smile fell slowly, eyes darkened. My thumb popped from the lace around my body I held onto.

I got in.

My hair draped over the back of the tub to keep it from getting wet for now. As the water filled, bubbles brother up around me. I have never sat in a bath with clothes on before; maybe this was just lingerie, but it felt odd. My body heated when I imagined Sam taking off the lace soaking wet lace. I watched as the water covered my body inch by inch.

When Sam came back into the bathroom, he placed the drinks down. My eyes weren’t on anything except him. He turned to me, and before he could do anything else, I rose to my knees. He sucked in a harsh breath when my fingers grabbed him by his belt.

He gasped my name and his hand brushed into my hair. Thankfully he didn’t stop me; I was pushed sick with waiting for him. I pulled his pants and underwear away—just enough for easy access—and looked up at him. He stared down at me with glossy eyes.

I took him in my mouth without looking away from him.

But he looked away from me; eyes closed with pleasure and head tipped back. I moaned around him and he stumbled forward.

”Oh my god, baby, let me in with you.” I hummed again, and this time his fingers yanked on the roots of my hair. I gasped for air when I came off him. He tore his clothes off the rest of the way and got in with me.

Immediately, I moved over to him and straddled him.

I kissed him before he could do anything else. His hands raced up my slick legs and invaded the lace around my hips. Our moans mixed as I grinded down on him; his hands leading my motions. The water was already hot and the heat that ignited under my skin didn’t help.

I was long past aching for him.

I needed him more than I needed to breathe, to see.

With a shaking breath, he moved the lace to the side and I sank down on him. His head tipped back and I kissed down his neck; the vibrations of his moans against my lips made me move my hips faster and faster.

His hand linked under my jaw and our breaths mixed between open mouthed kissed.

”You feel so good,” I whispered. He smiled. “It’s kinda counterintuitive for you to put me in the bath just to make me all dirty again,” I said.

“Then let me clean you,” he said, and I still drank down his words, his breath. He leaned over and unzipped my bag, and from the bag inside of it, he grabbed my bottle of body wash.

He left it on the floor for a moment. He turned back to me.

I gasped when he pushed me back and I was empty again. He sat up and forced me to sit on my knees on either side of his legs. I watched as my fingertips snaked up his arms; the water once hot turned cool under my touch, and chills ran through me at the feeling of his skin under my hands.

Then I noticed the way his eyes ravaged my body. Fingers slipped under the bottom of my lingerie and he took one glance at my eyes before he unclasped the lace behind me. His lips left warmth and kisses and bites on my skin.

My breath was taken from me when the lace slipped off me completely. It hung over the side of the tub.

”Sam,” I gasped, and he moaned as he kissed down my neck and tasted every part of me. My hands tangled in his hair as his lips traveled down and down; he left red and purple bruises over the curves of my chest. I wondered if he tasted the quickened beats of my heart.

He pulled away to grab the soap. I watched as he poured some in his fingers.

I couldn’t help it.

His hands were so incredibly soft and slippery over my skin as they washed me. He washed every part of my body, and after, his hands slipped back over my chest.

I sank down on him again.

”Fuck,” he gasped quietly. I thrusted myself up and down, and I didn’t care if the water moved more, if it splashed where it shouldn’t.

”Oh shit,” I moaned, and my moans increased as his mouth replaced his hands. I knew my skin was bitter with soap, but he still tasted me and sucked on my skin until I was flushed. The electricity of his tongue and mouth over my nipple shot straight down in between us, and it didn’t matter we were submerged under water anymore; I was so wet he nearly slipped out of me.

“Yeah like that, oh my god—“ he moaned when I quickened my pace.

”Need you,” I gasped. My legs were too fatigued for me to do much more; there was no traction in the tub, and I slowly lost strength.

He lifted me up.

“Sam—“ I cried when he forced me around. My eyes met the only light in the room; the orange glow behind the mirror.

Then my hands grabbed on the edge, and I held myself up as his hands raced down my back, my hips.

He yanked off the soaked lingerie and tossed them aimlessly.

There wasn’t a warning; no more hesitation. I knew that I was so far past the point of foreplay and teasing, and from the force he used on me, I knew he must have been in the same position. One of my knees hung on the ledge while another was still in the water. Sam thrusted into me and grabbed onto my waist so I didn’t slip anywhere.

”Holy shit! Please, oh my god—“ My moans fell incoherent as he finally fucked me like I needed. He too gasped a string of moans, and his nails dug into the slick skin of my sides.

“God you’re so perfect,” he groaned. “Always take me so well.”

”Sam, please.”

“Please what?”

”I’ve needed you for so long.”

”You’ve had me all day,” he laughed.

”Then fuck me. I need to feel you so hard for days.” He cursed under his breath again. He stood me up and used clean water from the faucet to make sure we were rinsed clean.

”Out,” he said. I rushed out of the tub and grabbed a towel and dried off to not get water everywhere. He haphazardly did the same, but his eyes never left my body; I saw them in the reflection of the mirror.

And then I was shoved against the counter.

“Sam!” I cried and I watched our reflection as he thrusted into me again. He lifted my leg, and my knee rested on the edge of the freezing granite.

“Watch me,” he demanded and my eyes met his in the reflection. “Watch us; watch me give you want you want.”

“Oh shit,” I cried roughly. His fingers gripped the roots of my hair and he yanked to keep me upright. If my world wasn’t rocked in that moment, I would have blushed from the sounds of our bodies colliding and moans bouncing off the walls.

“Sam,” I cried his name until tears formed in my tired eyes. “I’m so close.”

”Then cum for me, my love,” he said gently. “Want you to cum so hard for me.” I gasped and choked on my breath when he grabbed my arm and shoved my hand in between us to lure me closer and closer to my climax.

My knees nearly gave out when it washed over me. He didn’t slow down; he fucked me harder. His hands held up my hips since I clearly forgot how to, and he didn’t give me space to come down after my high.

”Sam! Fuck—please—please! Oh my god, it’s so much—“

He grabbed my throat and yanked me back. His mouth was so close to my face, I felt the warmth.

“Is it really too much?” His voice was low and sent thick chills across my skin.

”Yes! Need-Need you to cum.”

”Yeah baby? Where do you want me? Inside—“

”In my mouth. Want you to cum down my throat.”

”Fuck,” he gasped and let go of me. “On your knees,” he demanded and I didn’t mind if they were bruised when they met the floor. I looked up at him as he grabbed my hair and thrusted deep into my mouth. The tears finally fell, and as he tried to pull back and lighten his thrusts, I yanked him in and pushed my tongue up against him tighter.

”Holy shit—“ He gasped and his lips parted. I sucked harder, and watched his face twist with pleasure with every movement of my mouth. I knew. I knew him inside and out; I knew what would bring him on my knees for me. So I didn’t go easy.

He moaned my name. I loved that tone; the tone of warning.

”Fuck!” He cried and another moan of my name became sweet music to my ears. “Coming—“

My eyes snapped shut as the first wave of burning tore down my throat. He held onto my hair for dear life as I drank him down, and before his orgasm was even finished, he forced himself out of me. I opened my mouth before I swallowed the rest of his fluid, and as more striped my tongue, the rest slipped out of my mouth and down my cheek.

”Holy shit, holy shit, you fucking—“ Finally, I opened my eyes and he knealt down in front of me. A smile matched with a blush pulled at his face as he wiped his cum from my face with his thumb.

He kissed me regardless of the mess of my face and mouth. I pressed the remnants of his cum into his mouth and he moaned and kissed me deeper, firmer.

He pulled away when air was necessary.

”Come on,” he sighed. “Want to lay down and hold you, love you.”

”So this wasn’t you loving me?” I shot back with a smirk. He rolled his eyes.

”Everything I do with you is out of love, even if it’s fucking you like a slut.”

”Oh, okay that’s good,” I laughed, and he helped me up.

After we cleaned ourselves up, he brought me the forgotten champagne and even if it was lukewarm now, we drank it down and kissed one more time. As he left the bathroom with my hand in his, I stole one last look at myself in the mirror.

Behind me, light drops of water reverberated in the room from my soaked lingerie that hung over the faucet in the tub.

✧˖*°࿐

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@graceciesiels22

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #18+ only #minors dni #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #rosie writings #rosie hub

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