#omg thanks for waiting so long ;v;

[chisungie]

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[eddiesghxst]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU

credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader

summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you

contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3

word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)

-masterlist-

Eddie might be way in over his head.

Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.

It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.

“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”

Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.

Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.

Jesus.

“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”

Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 

Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.

Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.

Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 

Good riddance.

Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.

Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 

And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.

Whatever.

Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”

Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.

One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”

Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.

So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.

She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 

“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.

Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”

Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.

How hard can it be?

Apparently pretty fucking hard.

It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.

People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”

“Huh?”

“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”

Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”

“Good. You’re late.”

Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.

The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 

It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.

“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 

Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”

Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”

Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.

Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”

Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”

Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.

You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.

Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!

“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”

Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.

“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”

Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 

The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”

The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.

You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”

Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”

And, well, she’s not wrong.

Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.

But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.

You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.

“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”

You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”

You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.

He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.

It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.

Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”

You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.

"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 

You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.

You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.

"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”

You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”

Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”

You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.

You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.

And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 

"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.

Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.

“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 

Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 

“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 

Jesus.

You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.

Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.

God, who is this man?

You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.

You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.

And it's fun doing this with Eddie.

Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 

But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”

And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.

You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.

You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”

You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.

You might buy this film just to relive it.

You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”

It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.

You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”

You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”

Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.

You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 

You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.

Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.

You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”

Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”

You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.

You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.

“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 

“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”

A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.

Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.

Suck that, Robert.

However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.

You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”

Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”

You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 

Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”

You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.

You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.

Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 

You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.

He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”

God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.

Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”

You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”

God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.

You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”

“You’re still weird.”

Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”

Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.

Eddie nods, “Shoot.”

You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?

“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”

You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”

Eddie could leap for joy right now.

Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.

Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.

“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”

God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?

Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 

“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 

Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.

Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.

“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!

“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”

Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.

Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”

Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.

Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.

He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 

Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.

Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.

It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 

“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”

You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”

The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.

You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”

Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.

He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.

“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.

You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.

Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.

Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 

Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.

Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”

You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”

And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.

After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.

You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.

You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 

It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.

The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.

Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.

“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”

Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”

Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 

Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.

“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”

Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.

Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 

He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.

He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 

The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.

Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.

It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.

“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”

Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.

What a buzz kill.

Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 

You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.

“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”

Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”

The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.

You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.

“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.

Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.

Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.

“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.

You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.

Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.

Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.

Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.

Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.

His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 

He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.

“So good, princess—”

“Cut!”

You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 

These fucking cameras.

You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.

“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.

Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.

It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.

You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.

And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.

He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”

“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.

You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”

Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”

You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 

Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 

Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.

He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.

You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”

And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.

Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 

Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.

He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”

Shit.

God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.

“No.”

It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 

“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.

You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”

And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.

You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”

And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”

He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.

You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.

You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.

Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.

And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.

You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.

Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.

He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.

You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”

Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.

Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.

You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.

Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.

Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.

He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”

You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 

“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.

Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”

You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”

Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.

You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.

You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.

Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.

Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.

It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”

Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”

You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 

And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!

“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”

No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.

Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.

It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.

“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.

You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.

It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.

The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.

It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.

And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.

Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.

Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.

Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 

Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.

The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 

“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.

And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.

Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 

“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.

Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.

He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.

Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.

“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.

Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.

The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.

Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.

He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.

You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.

And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”

So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.

And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.

He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 

Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.

Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.

The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.

“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.

Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”

Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 

And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.

Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?

Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”

Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.

But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—

“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.

You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.

The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.

Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.

Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”

Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 

He fails.

The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.

The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.

Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”

And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 

And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.

“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”

Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.

“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”

You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.

————

a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3

————

cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside

[miyasturniolo]

DRIVER LICENSE | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: where chris finally obtained his driver's license after years of waiting, but during your first ride with him, he couldn't resist the urge to explore something else.

warning: smut, car sex, swearing, pet names (ma, mama, baby, darling, pretty girl, sweetheart), sub!chris, p in v, dirty talking, hand job, needy chris

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. bro needs his driver license though. OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE STURNIOLO TRIPLETS!!

WORDS: 2.1k

miyasturniolo on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

-

Matt had always teased Chris about not having his driver's license, especially since he was turning twenty one in less than a week. Little did anyone know, he had been taking driving lessons and had finally obtained his driver's license.

His brothers and you were surprised, but happy for him nonetheless. You couldn't help but wonder how long he had kept this secret, especially since he had even bought a car without telling anyone.

At this moment though, you were in his room, running your hands through his hair in a way that made his eyes roll back in pleasure sometimes.

You were watching a movie together when he suddenly suggested going for a night drive. He trusted himself to drive with you, even though he would need to focus a lot since he had just started driving on his own without an instructor.

"Do you want to go for a night drive?" he asked, shifting slightly to look into your eyes while making sure not to disturb your hands in his hair.

"I don't mind, why do you want to?" you say, and he nods, a smile on his lips. It was reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, but it was a pleasant, contagious smile.

"Are you going to drive?" you ask, and he simply nods again, closing his eyes as your fingers lightly massage his scalp, providing a sense of comfort.

You watch him as he shifts to get out of bed, and you follow suit, changing while Chris casually throws on a shirt over his sweatpants.

He grabs his car keys from the bedside table and then looks at you. "You look fine, baby, no need to get all dolled up," he chuckles, gazing at you.

You smile and listen to his advice, slipping on your shoes while he wears sandals with white socks. You glance at him from head to toe but say nothing, a small smile playing on your lips.

He had just left his room, but he held the door open for you to go first. He smiled and followed you downstairs once you thanked him and walked past, but you waited for him to go ahead after reaching the bottom of the stairs.

He then gently places his hand around your waist and wrapped his arm around you as you both headed to the garage to unlock his car.

You settled into the passenger seat while he took the driver's seat. You chuckled to yourself, which prompted him to look at you in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"I don't feel like I'm with you, it feels like I'm sitting next to Matt," you teased. He just rolled his eyes and playfully hit you in response.

“You're an asshole," he says before starting to drive. He had been nervous about it since he was still new to driving, and there was an unusual feeling in his chest because he was scared of making a mistake. However, he tried to push those thoughts away.

As he began driving, he decided to stop at a nearby shop first so both of you could grab some snacks before figuring out what to do and where to go.

You observed him focusing, finding it new to see your boyfriend behind the wheel, which definitely made him look more attractive.

His blue eyes were fixed on the road, his hands on the wheel showing prominent veins, his messy hair, a small smile on his lips, and the way he quickly glanced at you now and then to make sure you were okay.

He was parked close to the shop and quickly asked, "Wanna come in with me?" Your eyes met his before nodding, and he smiled as he headed towards the car, with you following suit.

As you both strolled towards the shop, he locked the car with the keys and then casually placed his hand on your backside as you entered the corner shop.

"Are you sure you're alright, darling?" he murmured, noticing your silence, but he didn't press further. He simply kissed your forehead.

You found it difficult to resist him any longer - his strong hands, his soothing voice, his masculine scent, and his protective nature all stirred a desire within you.

"I'm okay, I promise," you chuckled softly as he went to grab some snacks, and you tagged along, feeling like he was guiding you. He selected snacks for you and him, insisted on paying, even though you offered to contribute.

He carried the items, holding your hand with his free hand, not allowing you to carry anything. You obediently followed him to the car and sat in the passenger seat as he had instructed.

“Do you know where we're going now, sweetheart?” he asked as he finally settled in his car, gazing at you and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and relaxing, though your eyes was filled with love and more, as he had seen before.

He continued to look at you a moment longer before kissing your lips, causing you to pull back slightly, but you couldn't due to he made you to stay so your lips are connected to his.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, his hands moved to your hair as he drew you closer, despite the constraints of the gear shift and other obstacles.

“Why do you look so beautiful tonight? You always are, but perhaps it's just the lighting that's making you look so stunning right now,” he whispered against your lips.

He eventually pulled away and removed his shirt, feeling a strong desire for you but managing to restrain himself, asking first, “Are you as turned on as I am?” he inquired.

You chuckled softly, nodded, and took control as he leaned in to kiss your lips. You grabbed his belt, pulling him closer, and kissed his lips quickly before drawing back.

“Want to take this to the back seat?” You suggest, and he simply gazes into your eyes before a smile forms on his lips, which quickly turns into a smirk.

Without saying a word, he climbs into the backseat, and you follow suit, pinning him down and kissing him passionately. His hands move to your backside, gripping it tightly.

“How much do you want me?” you whisper against his lips as you pull back slightly, meeting his blue eyes.

“Really badly, ma,” he mutters, his cheeks turning red. He reaches for your head, pulling you in for another kiss, to which you eagerly respond.

As you both explore each other's mouths, his hands roam over your body, unsure of where to settle. When you eventually break the kiss, he lets out a small whine, keeping his gaze fixed on you, uncertain of your next move.

You remove his shirt, exposing his chest as his fingers graze your shirt. It seems like he's nervous but trying to appear confident.

You remained silent but let out a small chuckle before gently brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to smile.

Soon after, you removed your own shirt, his eyes fixed on your body. Without hesitation, he ran his hand over your boobs, since you haven’t been wearing a bra due to your wearing pajamas before leaving the house.

"Shit, mama," he whispered, gazing at your breasts, unable to tear his eyes away. You simply smirked before kissing his jaw.

A soft moan escaped him as he leaned into your touch, his hand now moving to your hair, tenderly stroking it. However, he found it hard to concentrate, so enthralled was he by your touch.

"Y/n... please," he whispered, struggling to articulate his thoughts. You gazed at him after breaking away from his jawline.

"Look at you... can't even speak properly," you teased, causing him to meet your gaze and squint, though he bit his lip to suppress a smile.

You removed his sweatpants, causing his heart to race faster as you saw his arousal growing due to your actions.

You gently grasped his erection and began to stroke him, eliciting shivers and heavy breathing from him.

"Y/N, oh god, baby, I'm going to cum if you continue," he whimpered, locking eyes with you and then glancing at where your hand was around him.

Pre-cum dripped from his cock, indicating his intense excitement for you. He was unable to contain himself any longer, feeling as though he was being teased.

His legs were trembling slightly as you stroked him, and when you kissed his neck, occasionally nibbling on it, he let out louder moans that were particularly noticeable because you were in his new car.

"Y/N, please fuck me! Please, baby! I'll do anything," he cried out, pulling his own hair as he loved when you did it, pretending his hands were yours.

"So needy for me, I love that from you," you said as you pulled away from his neck, his eyes filled with passion and pleasure.

You continued to stroke him a little longer before pulling away. He whimpered, but then he watched as your hands moved to remove your remaining clothes.

His mouth watered, he bit his lip, and he couldn't help but gaze at your naked body, trying not to moan just from the sight.

"Oh, God," he whispered to himself, unable to resist putting his hands on your body, rubbing your ass, and then moving close to your thighs.

"I just need you to ride me! Please, Y/N," he said, his eyes filled with vulnerability that you loved.

You didn’t hesitate at all, you didn’t want to waste any time. As his hands moved to your hips, you positioned yourself more comfortably against him, feeling his cock covered in pre-cum.

He arched his back when he felt you wrap around him, and you moaned softly as his breath caught. "That's it, sweetheart," he whispered.

His size stretched you, and it took a moment to adjust, but you began rocking your hips, causing his eyes to widen and his moans to grow louder.

"Do you like that?" you asked with a smirk, holding his chest as you increased the pace, eliciting another loud moan from him as you added your own small moans to the mix.

He was rendered speechless as you noticed his heart racing in your hand, but you continued to ride him. Unable to withstand it any longer, he was on the verge of climaxing but held back. His hands reached up to move your hair away from your face.

"Pretty girl," he whispered before releasing a soft moan. You bit your lip to stifle your own moans, feeling his cock pulsating inside you, indicating he was close.

"Me too, baby, me too," you responded, knowing exactly what he meant. Unsure of where to place his hands, he ran them over your body.

As you continued to ride him, planting kisses on his chest and leaving a few hickeys, he whimpered and moaned louder.

"I can't hold it any longer, y/n," he softly confessed, signaling his impending orgasm. You simply hummed in agreement.

His grip tightened as he climaxed inside you, reassured it was safe from pregnancy. He let out a loud moan, rolling his eyes with his mouth agape.

You continue to ride him, causing him to shake as he struggles to catch his breath. His hands tremble on your thighs as you keep riding him towards your climax.

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you surrendered to the sensation, covering his cock with a mix of mutual pleasure.

A loud moan escaped you, causing him to glance at you with a small smile before tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Just lay on top of me," he whispered, guiding you gently to relax as you slowed your racing heart. He continued to stroke your hair while your thumb grazed his chest.

Your sweaty bodies pressed against each other, yet neither of you seemed to mind. Chris shifted slightly to locate your clothes and remembered that he had parked somewhere while you both had been entangled in the backseat.

"Darling, we need to get dressed. We have to head home," he said softly before tenderly kissing your lips.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

[plathfiles]

Oooo for the Felix drabbles could you do something along the lines like it’s the readers and Felix’s first time together?👀

omg this is so sweet! sorry it’s so late, i got carried away <3

i hope you enjoy it xx

☙☙☙☙

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warnings: smut! minors dni 💋 — loss of virginity, use of y/n, language, tooth rotting fluff, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink.

☙☙☙☙

Felix and you had been dating the last weeks of school. For the summer, he’d invited you over to his house. At first it felt like an imposition and too soon to see his family. But as charming as Felix was, he convinced you.

So here you were taking a tour of Saltburn, Felix showing you his home. “This is my room,” he said walking into a lavish room with books and papers everywhere.

“Through here is the bathroom and your room is right next door,” he smiled, walking into an empty guest bedroom.

Felix’s house was a bit overwhelming and you sat down on the bed. “This is wonderful Felix, thank you,” you smiled at him.

He sat down next you to and placed a hand on your knee. You blushed turning your head to face his. Felix admired your beautiful face, looking down to your lips and then into your eyes.

“I’ve set out a dress for you, for dinner tonight. I forgot to mention that we dress for dinner,” Felix informed you.

“It’s okay, it sounds like fun,” you said. Felix smiled softly, moving his face closer to yours. You placed a kiss on his lips, savoring his touch.

Felix kissed you back, a hand moving to your jaw softly. “I know, I know we haven’t yet. But I’d like to, if you want to,” he said softly, a look of yearning in his eyes.

When Felix first got involved with you, he knew you were innocent and a virgin. It’s what drew you to him. But whenever things got heated, he couldn’t bring himself to corrupt you just yet.

You nodded, your face incredibly close to his. “I want to. But maybe we should wait…until tonight?” You said. You felt inexperienced and vulnerable, especially under Felix’s touch.

He winked at you, pulling away. “We’ll see darling. Can’t wait to see you all dressed up.” Felix said, then exiting the room.

You felt all fuzzy inside and your stomach felt heavy. You pushed your thighs together.

☙☙☙☙

Later that night, you were dressed in a long black silhouette dress. You put up your hair in a messy bun and put on light makeup. Walking down to the dining room, you weren’t expecting to see Felix at the end of the hall.

“Hello,” you smiled innocently at him. Felix was dressed in a black suit and tie. He looked as handsome as ever.

When he saw you however, all he wanted to do was rip your dress right off you. Felix’s breath caught in his throat, you were beautiful.

“You look…amazing,” Felix said, blushing softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist lightly, to guide you to the dining room.

You sat down at the table, Elsbeth complimenting your dress. She sat you right next to Felix and he wouldn’t stop teasing you throughout dinner.

During the main course, his hand was on your thigh. His thumb rubbing soft circles. It made your stomach jolt and you could feel something fuzzy between your legs. You clenched around nothing.

Felix couldn’t have eaten fast enough, he wanted to finish dinner, take you upstairs and have you all to himself. You were looking so innocent in your dress it made him hard.

Finally dinner ended and Felix excused you both, saying you were tired after your long trip.

You walked up the stairs with him and in hushed tones you turned to him. “Felix, that was rude. We should have stayed,” you said, a small laugh escaping your lips.

He grabbed your waist softly and pinned you up against a bookcase. Looking down at you with his charismatic grin. “I can’t help it. I need you,” Felix said, almost close to a whine.

“You need me?” You asked softly, bucking your hips into his already visible erection.

Felix groaned, his head falling to your neck. “Yes, let me destroy you and make you mine, please.”

You nodded, a small and quiet “yes” echoing through Felix’s ears.

With one swoop, Felix lifted you up. You laughed a little too loudly and covered your mouth.

“It’s alright, darling. No one can hear us from this side of the house. You’ll be able to be as loud as you want,” Felix said playfully, sloppily kissing your cheeks and neck.

He carried you into his room and gently placed you down on the bed.

“Are you sure?” Felix asked, wanting to have your full and verbal consent before corrupting your innocence

“Yes, I’m sure,” you said, knowing in your heart that you wanted Felix badly.

He nodded, hovering over you and sliding a hand down your side. “I’m going to rip this dress off you,” Felix said.

You giggled, “But you’ll destroy it and I’ll have nothing to wear for dinner.”

“I’ll buy you a hundred dresses then, even more than that if you need,” Felix said, loving the thought of spoiling you.

You playfully rolled your eyes and connected your lips with his. Your arms grabbing his shoulders and pulling him on top of you. Felix sunk into your touch and melted. His hands tugged at the delicate fabric of the dress.

Felix broke the kiss and began to plant kisses down your neck, to your collarbone and then to your now unclothed breast.

Your nipples hardened under the chill in the room. A moan escaped your lips at Felix’s touch.

“Yes, darling. Make those pretty noises,” he praised and encouraged.

Soon your dress was off and most of Felix’s suit was on the side of his bed. He was laying on top of you, needing your left breast with one hand and moving his other hand to your panties.

“Felix, don’t tease,” you said, your arousal already getting the best of you. Felix hummed, slowly removing your panties and placing a finger through your wet folds.

“Such a good girl for me, already wet for me,” he praised. “You’re so innocent, bet you’ve never been touched like this,” Felix said.

You moaned under his touch, melting like butter on a hot pan. He moved his thumb to your clit, rubbing in slow circles. The knot in your stomach was tightening.

“I’m not going to have you cum yet, alright. I need to get you ready for my cock first,” Felix said, removing his thumb from your clit. The lewd words making you more aroused.

Felix gently slipped a finger into your heat, moving it in and out slowly. He then added a second finger stretching you out some more.

You moaned and after a minute he knew you were ready. Felix maneuvered you closer to him, ready to use you like his favorite toy.

“Ya ready love?” He asked, removing his boxers and his cock sprung free.

“Yes, please I need you inside me,” you begged, clenching around nothing.

Felix smirked, running a hand down your thigh. “It’s going to hurt for one second and then it will feel amazing, I promise,” Felix cooed, looking deep into your eyes.

You nodded, as Felix fit himself into your entrance. A groan fell from his lips and he stayed there. You clenched around him and grabbed his shoulders, waiting for the pain of your virginity to disappear.

“That’s my good girl,” Felix praised, beginning to slowly move in and out of you.

You both were a pile of pants and moans, feeling eachother and moving as one. Felix was soft and rough, your hands stayed on his chest.

The knot in your stomach tightened and you couldn’t hold in it any longer. “Felix, I’m gonna cum, I can’t—,” you moaned, eyes shutting in pleasure.

“That’s okay, lovely. Let go, cum for me,” Felix whimpered, getting close to his orgasm aswell.

You came, bucking your hips into Felix as you rode out your high.

Not long after Felix came, groans falling from his lips and into your eardrums.

It was so surreal and your sweaty body was tired. Felix collapsed next you and pulled your body into his. You were exhausted, the pain and pleasure overstimulating you. You fell asleep in Felix’s arms.

When you awoke, sun was streaming through the window. Felix and you hadn’t moved throughout the night. He was asleep beside you, your naked body covered by the softest sheets you’ve ever felt.

You mildly stretched, not wanting to wake the angel beside you. But it was no use, Felix’s eyes fluttered open and a soft grin appeared on his face when he saw you.

“Hello,” Felix giggled softly, nudging his head into your neck.

“Hi,” you replied, turning your sore body towards him.

“You’re glowing,” He said, looking down at your lips and then to your eyes. Felix leaned into kiss you and you felt like you were in heaven.

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | Sequel

[Part 1]

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral f receiving, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, anxiety, Reader has a child, grief, fluff, pregnancy, not proofread. 

Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

Words count : 9150

Author's note : Hello everyone!! Sorry for the wait, I've been very busy, but here's part two of Reunion (or at least the first part two, let's call it part 2.1 hehe). Thank you again for all you kind comments and the love you've given my fanfic omg!! Spoiler alert: this is the happy alternate ending! But I've got another bittersweet alternative ending planned 😈 If you think the first part was good enough on its own and the sequel may break the vibe, don't force yourself to read!! But if you need a happy ending, here it is <3 The plot still doesn't make any sense, but hey, we're here to have fun so enjoy ❤️

English is still not my first (or second) language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes <3

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is the reassuring embrace of his arms around you. You don't want to move, not even when the sunlight tickles your face through the opening between the wooden shutters, trying to make the moment last endlessly. But the growing anxiety in your stomach chases away the illusion of your fleeting happiness. 

You close your eyes a little tighter. Perhaps if you try again, perhaps if you try harder, the world around you can fade away.

Perhaps you can wake up again, in a different reality.

But it's inevitable. You know that now you're awake, it's only a matter of time before the two of you have to say goodbye forever. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you have to fight the tingling sensation at the corners of your eyes.

Why have the gods decided to be so cruel to you? They grant you one last taste of his skin on your lips before taking it from you, again. 

Haven't you given enough? 

Could they not show you mercy? 

You who had forgotten him, you who had begun to turn a new page, to seek comfort in the arms of the cold, far away from the fire and the ashes, why did you have to touch the poison that would once again stain your soul?

Behind you, Aemond buries his long nose in your hair. His hand absently caresses the skin of your thigh, just where the edge of the linen tunic you put on sometime during the night when you were cold ends. The fabric is pulled up, revealing the outline of your bottom, and you can already feel your uncle hardening between his thighs, but you don't move.

If you move, you'll make everything more real. Tangible.

You'll speed up the process of losing him, of him slipping through your fingers. 

How can you let him go, now that your heart is full again, now that you feel complete in a way you haven't felt for over three years?

How can you let him go, now that your body has retrieve the extension of itself in the arms of the man who was the cause of your torment, your moments of joy, your pain and, paradoxically, your happiness?

"I know you're awake."

You hold your breath and Aemond inhales into your hair. His hand moves down the inside of your thigh, along the hollow that joins it to your groin. He doesn't venture any further. 

His thumb rests there and brushes your skin, trying to arouse the desire in you with gentleness.

Subtly.

 He doesn't want to hurry, he doesn't want to rush you.

Not when he's been harbouring the impossible fantasy of waking up with you in his arms since the day he nearly died.

He presses harder against you, as if he doesn't want to let you go, as if he wants to be one with you again, and you feel him pulsing against your buttocks, under the linen cloth that has been pulled up a little higher. He says nothing, but he is pleading, needy, in his gestures, which is rare for him.

Something has changed, after all, and perhaps something has changed in him too. 

"I am awake, indeed, " you whisper in a voice that is still half asleep. The lump in your throat betrays the feeling of anxiety gradually creeping into your body, and Aemond seems to notice. Under your tunic, his hand moves up along your belly until it nestles against your chest, close to your heart. His thumb draws small circles, once again trying to bring you back to him.

Trying to calm your mind.

"Let us forget for a little longer," he whispers, his clenched jaw resting over your head. "Please." 

And you know he never begs. 

Aemond takes and doesn't ask.

Aemond believes he is owed everything and never gives in return.

Hearing him beg breaks something inside you, because this is the first time he does so.

Usually it was you, it was always you, begging for peace, begging for more, begging him not to leave you.

Part of him is as desperate as you are; part of him also dreads the moment when you will have to part again. Forever. It's comforting to know that his feelings are sincere, just like yours.

" Make me forget, then." You reply, moving your lower loins back against him, giving him tacit permission to explore your body once more. His fingers move down to your breasts, which he covers softly with his hand, his thumb skimming over a nipple to make it hard. You let out a gasp between your parted lips.

His hand slides lower, his palm flat against your lower belly, his fingertips brushing the light patch of hair at the top of your mound. You feel the familiar warmth growing between your thighs, in your core.

He sighs against the back of your skull, his head tilted forward. His lips search the skin at the nape of your neck, behind the long hair that has become tangled during the night, while his fingers intimately explore the secrets of your body that he knows all too well. The remnants of last night's lovemaking still smear the insides of your thighs and folds, but it doesn't matter; his fingers easily find the little bundle of nerves that they tease until you close your eyes, until your hand grips the damp, shabby sheet that covers the ragged mattress in the inn where you've spent the night.

Just the both of you, in the comfort of anonymity. 

"Let me taste you". His voice, still husky, tickles the back of your neck and you feel him shift behind you. When you feel the warmth of his bare chest, against which you're nestled, leave your back, your body automatically tries to move back against him. You still need him. You still need him to chase away the lump of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and the voices that keep reminding you that you're only postponing the fateful moment. Your hand slips under your white tunic and wraps around his wrist to force him to stay there, to hold his fingers against the source of heat spreading from your core. Your hips are demanding, grinding against his hand. "On your back," he insists, and stands up on his forearms.

With reluctance you turn over. You obey, lying on your back, your hair spilled around your head on the flat, uncomfortable pillow on which you slept badly. The white tunic that serves as your nightgown is pulled up, crumpled, just above your crotch, which it barely conceals. 

Aemond has swung over your body, silvery strands loosening from the braid that holds his hair behind his head and sliding down his shoulders, falling in loose loops on either side of his face, tickling your cheeks.

His lilac-tinted blue eye glows with a predatory gaze, a ray of light catching in the sapphire he hasn't removed from his socket. 

He captures your lips with his own, begging for access. Aemond marks your jaw and throat with light kisses, sucking at your collarbone to make the violets of possessiveness with which he likes to adorn your body bloom. His lips travel down your chest, playing with one of the two small nipples raised by the cool air and by desire, and continue their journey past your navel. 

Your heartbeat quickens as he settles between your legs, spreading your thighs to admire the part of you he covets so eagerly. At the same time you bend your legs, your gaze falling on him, on his unravelled hair, on his eye that locks with yours. He is so close to you, so close to your warm centre, and you know that between your folds the sweet nectar that your uncle longs to taste is already flowing.

But his lips trace the inside of your thighs instead, where the skin is soft and tender, and gradually they reach the hollow that connects them to your most intimate part. He takes a malicious pleasure in building up the tension, in savouring every millimetre of you like a fine delicacy, with only the tip of his lips brushing against your skin.

His thumbs spread the tender flesh of your womanhood and then he places a chaste kiss on the very centre of you. His tongue is shy at first, tracing the slit that connects your entrance to your little knob, collecting the evidence of your desire.

As his tongue wraps around your nub, your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white. 

Aemond drinks from your essence like a thirsty man, his nose buried between your folds, rubbing your pearl.

The tip of his tongue catches what drips from your opening, and then the flat of his tongue tastes your slit, working its way up to the little nub gorged with desire. 

He maintains the same rhythm, revelling in the moans that escape from your half-open lips. Soon his middle finger begins to draw circles against your entrance, the first knuckle sliding inside, then the whole finger. Your head is thrown back and immediately your hand buries itself in his silvery hair, gripping his braid in a messy bun behind the top of his head. Forcing his face against the most intimate part of your body, forcing his lips to work on your wet warmth, you seek more contact. 

Aemond adds a second finger. He can feel you tighten around him as he searches for that particular spot, as his tongue continues to play with your bundle of nerves.

As he devours what is his, utterly his.

His fingers, the ones that aren't buried inside you, close around the flesh of your hip in a possessive grip. "Come for me," he whispers against your womanhood, his eyes lifted to you. "I know you can do it."

Your breathing becomes more erratic, faster too. You tighten the grip of your fingers in his hair, your thighs pressing either side of his face, and he collects the sweet taste of your release on his tongue with a hum. 

You feel like you're floating. The waves of warmth still wash over you, less and less intense, your breast rising and falling as you catch your breath. 

Your hand tucks a lock of his hair back behind his ear as Aemond lifts his face towards you, and you rest your hand against his cheek. His parted lips still glisten with your desire smeared across the lower part of his face. He stares at you without moving, his deep, regular breathing the only sound to break the silence that has followed your release. You stay like that for a moment, his gaze burning into yours. At any moment he might pounce on you. At any moment he might close the tiny distance separating your mouths and press his lips against yours like the starving man he is.

It's you who makes the first move. You taste yourself on his lips and your tongue entwines with his in a fiery, demanding kiss.

Straightening up, Aemond creeps between your legs, his hand on the underside of your thighs, holding them apart. He is still completely naked from the night before, he has not bothered to get dressed after your lovemaking, so you can catch a glimpse of his erect manhood, slightly curved. He wraps his hand around to guide it towards your still sensitive wet entrance.

He slides into you easily, in one slow movement. The haste of the night before, the urgency of the reunion, has given way to the tenderness and laziness of the early morning, and Aemond rocks inside you slowly. His hips undulate, punctuated by long, deep thrusts, in an illusion of domesticity. 

But the damp sheets, rough against your skin, the discomfort of the hard mattress beneath your back, remind you that your lovemaking is anything but domestic.

For Aemond is still the enemy, for Aemond is supposed to be dead.

For your family is probably looking for you at this very moment, worried that you have not returned home for the night.

But you push those thoughts away. The weight of your uncle's body on top of yours soothes the knot that forms in the pit of your stomach at the thought of time slipping away, at the thought of having to leave him again, at the thought of this being the last time you will taste his lips, his skin.

Aemond is gentle, and that is rare enough to be worth mentioning. He has never been so gentle, so soft, in the limited time that you have been married.

Between you, there had been the devouring, consuming passion, the power play that in your submission had granted you dominance.

Between you it had been raw and devastating more than gentle and tender.

His fingers run the length of your body to your core, combining his slow, deep thrusts with the movement of his fingers against your clit.

There are only few words exchanged between you, as if you were both afraid to break the grace of the moment.

His panting, noisy breath echoes in the silence, skimming the skin of your throat, then mingling with yours as the shadow of his lips brushes against yours. He rests his forehead against yours, your hand cupping his cheek, sliding behind his neck, and you are transported into a cocoon of intimacy where nothing else exists around you.

There is only his body against yours, warm and reassuring.

There is only him inside you and the slow movement of his hips.

There is only your breathing, blending in the space that separates your mouths.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" He whispers against your lips as you close your thighs around him. "How much I dreamed of this tight little cunt?" You swallow his words. Your hips meet his as he pushes against you. He is reaching deep inside you. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his body oozes power and darkness, and you can't help but be drawn to that side of him that complements yours so well. 

You can't stop your body from aching for him. 

"You could have been my queen," he says as his movements grow stronger. He won't last long, but neither will you. He's inside you, where you like to feel him, and your walls clench around his member. "And I would have set the whole world on fire for you." He thrusts. "Burned it to the ground" He thrusts again. "All for you." And again.

The old wood of the bed creaks with each of his movements.

You seek out his lips, just to brush them against yours. 

Without sealing the kiss.

"And I would have accepted," you answer with a whimper. "I would have been your queen, qybor." In another life, you think you would.

In another life, in another universe, you would have been his queen.

A grunt escapes his lips and lands in the hollow of your ear. Aemond straightens on his bent elbow, right next to your head, and he plunges into you one last time, with more power, more vigour, just as his new position allows.

You close your eyes. 

A second wave of warmth is about to engulf your body.

And you wait for it, you welcome it.

"Look at me when I come inside you," he growls hoarsely as his seed pours deep inside you, into the most intimate part of your body. "Look at me as I fill you up."

Your eyes lock with his, fiery as ever. A final moan escapes between your lips and you seal them to your uncle's in a feverish, wet kiss. You hold him in your arms for a moment longer, as if to allow yourself the luxury of illusion for a brief instant. 

You delay the fateful moment a little longer, fighting the minutes that inevitably slip through your fingers.

"Stay inside me just a little longer," you whisper, burying your head in the hollow of his neck where you can feel the rapid rhythm of his pulse. His arms close around you, holding you tight against him, and you hear him purr against the hair on the crown of your head. He rocks you gently.

The silence welcomes you both into its embrace and you savour it like a treasure. Your body aches in the sweetest way, your insides throbbing around his softening manhood. 

And around you, nothing exists anymore.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I've changed, you know." His hoarse voice vibrates against you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You keep them closed. 

You're not sure if Aemond has really changed. Aemond is ruthless, cold, brutal, calculating, merciless. Cruel. You're not sure if Aemond can ever change, but he shows unusual tenderness, and maybe, just maybe, you allow yourself to doubt. You indulge in the illusion. 

Perhaps Vhagar's death has broken something in him. 

Perhaps it's true, perhaps he's not the same man anymore.

He's not sorry for what he has done. He never will be. He's too proud, even if you can catch the glimmer of remorse that colours his icy eyes when he is not looking at you.

Does he think of your little brother? Is he haunted by the memory of him, as you have been for so many years?

Does he think of the innocents he killed without flinching, the blood he spilled in the Riverlands that now stains the burned grass? 

Is his sanity slowly being eaten away by the atrocities he has committed with his own hands? 

He has changed. You are not sure if he's changed for the better or for the worse, but he has indeed.

Daemon has changed too. So has Rhaenyra. So has Jace.

You too have changed.

For war changes people, war makes them weary and wary, it shatters something in the body that will never be the same again. It hollows out the roundness of the cheeks, it deepens the dark circles under the eyes, it fades the sparkle of childhood that remains in the eyes.

Aemond seems to be waiting for an answer, but the words remain stuck in your throat. I know, you want to whisper, I know, but suddenly you've forgotten how to speak. His thumb draws the soft line of the underside of your breast.

The future terrifies you more than ever. You had made peace with your past, you had come to a conclusion that, even if it pained you, had given you some respite. 

Seeing your uncle alive had reawakened your demons. 

Spending the night in the embrace of his arms had revived everything you had buried deep, deep down. 

The past had returned, creeping towards you, gnawing at the corners of your heart and at what remained of your sense of stability and certainty. 

Now you are plunged into doubt. 

Just as you were a little over three years ago, when you were informed of his death, when you had to learn to live with the choice that had never really been given to you.

Just as three years ago, when you noticed a familiar lilac-tinged blue in Rhaegar's eyes.

Like when you had to live with the memories that haunted you, that were slowly eating away at what little sanity you had left.

Like when you finally decided to leave for the North.

Aemond seems to sense your anguish, because his fingers get lost in your hair. 

"What are we going to do now?" 

Finally, you dare to utter the inevitable words that have been hanging on the tip of your tongue since you woke up, words you've swallowed so many times this morning. You immediately blame yourself. 

Saying them only makes them more real.

They tear at something in the imaginary cocoon you've built for yourselves. You bury your face against his skin, breathe in his scent, as if you never want to forget him.

For you know how fleeting memories can be.

You remember how his face faded with each passing day.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to experience it a second time.

"We could leave," Aemond replies, as his fingers venture to your jaw, caressing the line of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles. 

He's so pragmatic, as always.

Even in this situation.

Even now.

It makes you want to shake him.

"We could run away," he says again. His gaze, fixed in the distance, falls on you at the same moment. "To Essos. Pentos. No one would know who we are." You close your eyes, and let his hoarse voice lull you into silence. "To start our own family, the three of us."

You know he is not serious. Even though he looks at you with such insistence, with that flame that flickers in the centre of his iris.

You relish his fantasy, this impossible dream. 

But you can't leave your family; Essos is not Winterfell. There, they knew where to find you. They knew you were safe. They knew you were sheltered between the walls of the northern castle, under the heavy furs, under the protection of Cregan Stark.

Essos is the unknown.

You cannot let your mother lose her only daughter, not after everything she has already lost. 

The itch is familiar, tickling at the corners of your eyes. There was a time when you thought you'd lost that sensitivity. When you thought the war had left you cold, incapable of feeling anything. Incapable of crying.

"You know I can't." Your nose rubs against his milky skin, made clammy by sweat. You keep your eyes closed because you feel the weight of his cold gaze on you, his furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you blankly, his lips pursed in a long, thin line. You don't have the courage to meet his accusing gaze, let alone the wounded look on his face as you crush all his illusory dreams into dust. 

When did you become the more pragmatic of the two? 

When did you become the one responsible for bringing Aemond back to reality?

It used to be you, the one who filled your mind with unrealistic dreams, the one who dreamed of stories and fairy tales, back when you could still dream. "They need me, you know that."

A sneer stretches across your uncle's lips as he swallows a chuckle that sounds more like an ironic growl. You feel his whole body tense against yours, a sign that he's holding back his annoyance. 

A sign that he has something to say, that he's upset, but doesn't quite know how to put it into words. 

"Like they needed you back then?" he replies scathingly, bitterness on the tip of his tongue. "When they used you as a bargaining chip to achieve their ends, hm?"  

Your red cheeks burn with shame, as if he'd slapped you. You don't move, merely swallow hard. You know there's something right about what he is saying, but you don't want to admit it. 

You've done your duty.

You've done what is expected of you as a daughter.

It was not a question of them using you. It never was. 

It was your duty, only your duty, what you were always meant to perform, wasn't it?

And yet a small voice in the back of your head had already given you a similar speech, a few years ago, but you had tried to silence it.

You refused to let Aemond admit it. You refuse to allow him to do it. He had no idea, no right to criticise your family when he'd acted like that.

When he has done what he has done.

He has no idea what it is like to be a daughter.

You don't answer, and silence falls between you again.

You wish so desperately that he could go home with you; that he could tell them that he's sorry.

You wish it were easier. 

There is no one left to wait for Aemond but you, but his son, you know that. His family has been decimated, as has yours in some ways, though you still have your parents and your older brother.

For your uncle, there's nothing left but the shadow of his existence, the shadow of who he once was, long ago.

You let your hand trace the side of his throat, your nose buried against it, your lips hovering over his skin. You lean against him, your body on top of his, pressed together as if you were afraid to let him go.

"You could come with me instead," you whisper, but you refuse to meet his gaze. There's something shameful in the words you've just spoken aloud, something naive, and your burning cheeks are proof of your embarrassment.

Almost imperceptibly, he clenches beneath you, holding his breath. This is a bad idea and you feel stupid. Naive to have dared to suggest something like this.

His voice purrs in a hm that vibrates against you. He's about to say something. He searches for words. "You know that -"

"I know." You cut him off sharply - a little more than you would have liked, your eyes raised to silence him.

You know what he thinks.

He thinks that Rhaenyra will never be his queen. He thinks he will never bend the knee to his eldest sister and her authority, which he doesn't recognise.

He thinks that with the death of Aegon, with the death of the children his brother fathered with Helaena, the throne belongs to him.

And you are aware of his ambitions. You know how perfectly the conqueror's crown fits his head. You know how it sets off the sapphire embedded in his eye socket. You remember the look of greed in his eyes every time he stared at the Iron Throne, you remember the look of pride on his face every time he scorned anyone who dared to question his decisions as Prince Regent.

You know how mercilessly he made the soldiers at Harrenhal kneel, forcing them to contemplate their impending deaths. You know the terror he has sown throughout the Riverlands.

Even in the Seven Hells you could have found more mercy than at the hands of Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond may have changed, but you're not sure he's changed enough to put aside the pride that is consuming him from within.

You take a deep breath. "You don't really have a choice, qybor." 

Fearing his reaction, you curl into a fetal position, your back to him, your knees drawn up to you. You close your eyes. You wait for his frustration.

You wait for his sentence.

You know that he is aware that he has no choice. 

He has only two options: swallow his pride or sink back into the abyss, disappear into the dark meanders of oblivion.

Rhaegar needed his father, of course, but you found him a father in Cregan Stark. 

That was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

There was no way you would give up what family you had left.

For Rhaegar needed his grandparents and his uncle even more.

Behind you, you feel your uncle's hand slip under your tunic and around your body, pulling you against him. He presses his bare chest against your back, tucking your head under his chin. His hand caresses your stomach, then his fingers brush the base of your breast.

"You know she will never be my queen. You know the throne belongs to -" But he lets the words drop without finishing the sentence, the knowledge of what he was about to say hanging in the air between you. 

As long as he remains alive, will the embers of war never truly be extinguished? 

You don't know, but you accept the risk. 

You close your eyes, as if you're about to jump into the icy depths with both feet.

"The rest is up to you, Aemond," you whisper, barely audible. "And if you have truly changed, then you will know how to make the right choice."

He says nothing. 

You savour the last few minutes of illusion you have left.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

The fear of making the wrong choice never really leaves you, but your mother chases your fears away, as she so often did when you were a child, tucking one of your dark curls behind your ear. She has her distinctive little smirk on her lips, the one that pulls the corner of her lips up towards her nose.  

The same one Lucerys had, you think sadly. 

You still miss him, even after all this time, and sometimes you wonder what kind of young man he would have become.

"You're a clever girl, my sweet clever girl," she whispers against your forehead as she cradles you in her arms. She's as beautiful as ever, as gentle with you as ever, despite the years, despite the wear and tear of war that has hardened her features and hollowed her cheeks. "And I know you have made the right decision." She lifts your chin with her forefinger to look into your eyes, and you feel like you're turning back into that shy, insecure girl who disappeared somewhere in the violence of the war all those years ago.

 "And if it should turn out that you were wrong... Daemon will be there to intervene. You know he is just waiting for that." You roll your eyes at her attempt at humour, and she plants a kiss on your forehead. 

For a split second, you truly are that carefree little girl again.

But behind your mother's humour lie fragments of reality that make your laughter bitter.

The news of your husband's survival remains a hazy blur in your mind. Sometimes you're not sure if this conversation really occurred or if you're dreaming.

You're not sure if what's around you, if the night you spent in Aemond's arms, is real or an invention of your sick mind.

Sometimes you're not really conscious of the events or how long they lasted, the lump in your stomach grows back, and once again you're destined to carve half-moons marks in the palms of your hands to soothe the tension in your body.

You told your mother first because you knew she'd be more understanding. As a mother, as a woman, she knows the meaning behind certain silences, the weight of words, the unspoken words that float between sentences. 

You know she can understand your pain and your doubts, but also your love and your compassion.

She was shocked when you told her that her younger brother was still alive. She smoothed her dress, paced back and forth, then took the time to sit down, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes riveted to your face, looking for clues that would betray what you were thinking, what you might be hiding. She was afraid that he had hurt you. She was afraid that he would rip you away from her, just as he had once ripped your little brother away from her.

Her fingers had gently taken your hand and her thumb had drawn little circles on the back of your hand to comfort you. She listened to you first as you confessed everything. 

Where you were that night when you didn't come home. 

Who you were with.

And then she took you in her arms. She reassured you. Soothed you. 

You had been so afraid of disappointing her, of disappointing all of them, that the tension paralysing your body had finally loosened and you burst into tears.

Things had proved more complicated with Daemon. When he learned that his nephew was alive, that he wasn't forgotten forever in the deep waters of the lake near Harrenhal, he refused to believe you. He was furious. He said he had seen him fall, that he was the one who had taken his life, tearing the sky apart.

You didn't know where to look, and it was in your mother's eyes that you sought support, comfort, anything in the face of your stepfather's rage. You could feel on you the look of disappointment of your brother, Jace, as he held his shoulders up and his chin high. He wanted to prove that one day he would be a good king. With his jaw clenched, he said nothing, looking at you as if you were suddenly so foreign to him. He probably didn't know what to say, for fear of being clumsy, for fear of unintentionally hurting you, even more than by his lack of support. 

You know it wasn't his fault. 

He simply couldn't understand.

The words stuck in your throat and you found yourself unable to speak, pearls glittering in the corners of your eyes while you waited impatiently for the final blow.

The final death knell that would seal your disgrace in everyone's eyes.

After all you'd endured.

Daemon stood before you, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hard. He was staring at you as if you'd committed the ultimate treason, and you knew he was controlling himself to keep his anger from exploding. "You're going to bring him to me," he had hissed, his hand closing over your shoulder. 

" You will lure him here and he will be put to the sword." His tone left no room for argument. With the tension growing in your stomach, you sought your mother's compassionate look to calm you. You could see the fury in your stepfather's eyes, and also a mixture of fear and feelings of betrayal. You knew that, deep down, he was afraid for you because he considers you his daughter. Because Baela and Rhaena are like sisters to you. 

It was his reaction you feared most, not your mother's. His fingers dug into your skin, the floor slipping out from under you, the room swaying dangerously, and your mother had come to your rescue, trying to calm things down with her usual diplomacy.

You can't quite remember the words your stepfather said; in anger he muttered something that sounded like are you really thinking of becoming his whore again? and the words hurt like hell, but you tried to swallow the pain.

 Endure, hold your head high. That was what you had learned.

Your mother had suggested you go back to your room or spend some time with Rhaegar, her fingers gently stroking your dark locks, and as soon as you left the throne room you could hear their voices echoing through the door. 

They were arguing.

Over you.

Because of you, again.

You took a deep breath and returned to the gardens, where your two stepsisters were making your son laugh by playing with him. They had fun running around in the damp grass to the applause of Baela's little daughter, who clapped her little hands in delight.

Your fingers were still trembling when you joined them.

In the end a solution was found, for your mother feared losing you a second time. 

She remembered what had happened to Laenor, your father, when he had grown tired of the court.

She remembered what had happened to Helaena, your sweet aunt, when she could no longer bear to suffer.

It was her worst nightmare to see you torn from her again, now that she had the chance to hold you in her arms every day, to protect you again, to see you grow again.

It was her worst nightmare to see her only daughter, her only daughter and the second of her only surviving children, taken from her. 

You and Jace were all she had left of her own blood.

After long negotiations with Daemon, you had managed to bargain for your husband's life in exchange for strict conditions; increased surveillance, no bonding with a new dragon, no carrying of weapons, and the assurance that he would be executed if there was the slightest doubt about him. You proposed that you and he leave the capital, with your son as well. To return to Dragonstone. To start over on a new, blank page in a book that was already too damaged.

For you, it was also a way to ease the tensions between your family and Aemond, and perhaps find a more intimate life with your husband and son.

Rhaenyra had declared that this was the best solution: a guarantee for her to have you by her side again, a guarantee for her that you would be there.

You had been afraid of Aemond's reaction, afraid that his ego would not bear it; that he would refuse, that he would rather sentence himself to his own death than to an existence as a prisoner within his own family, condemned to live as a shadow of the man he had once been in exchange for seeing his son grow up. 

But in the end, wasn't he doomed to live as a shadow of the man he had once been, anyway?

He would never be the rider of Vhagar again.

He would never be the ruthless Prince Regent again.

He would never again be the second in line to the throne, the second son greedily waiting for fate to turn in his favour.

He hadn't been all of that for a good three years, lurking in the cold, gloomy corridors of Harrenhal like a lonely monster.

And if he went back, if he rejected your proposal, he would have condemned himself to eternal solitude at the side of a witch you would rather forget.

He had no choice, for he would never be that Aemond again. 

When you joined your husband at the meeting place, you were relieved to see him swallow his pride and accept. It was difficult, but you convinced him. 

For Rhaegar, for his son.

Aemond had suggested that you run away, far away from everything, and you almost hesitated. Running away would have allowed you to forget, of course. 

But your deepest wounds had begun to heal. You had begun to be able to face the ghosts that haunted King's Landing, the ghosts that haunted Dragonstone.

To stop there was tempting, and yet so frightening at the same time. 

The unknown terrified you. You needed familiarity now, something to fall back on, for you were so tired. 

Now you can't help bringing your thumb to your lips, nibbling the skin at the corner of your fingernail with the tip of your teeth as you walk away from Rhaenyra. A handmaiden brings you Rhaegar, and you struggle to breathe. 

You inhale.

You exhale.

The thick tuft of brown hair makes you smile. The sight of your son is enough to give you the courage to walk with a more confident stride. It's as if you were filled with new strength, for you know that he needs you more than anyone else. And for him, you've promised yourself to stay strong.

As soon as you reach him, you kneel and plant a kiss on his plump cheeks. 

He's growing up so fast that sometimes you wish you could stop time.

"There's someone who'd like to meet you, sweet boy," you explain, and you can recognise your mother's inflection in your own voice. Sweet boy. Rhaegar looks at you with big, round, questioning eyes, and you wonder if he senses your anxiety, because he takes your hand between his tiny fingers.

"Who, muña ?" he babbles, striding down the cobbled path in the middle of the gardens, hopping on his clumsy little legs, and you smile at his carefree attitude. He stops to watch the bees foraging, bends down to pick up a flower and gives it to you. He's always so curious, so full of life. He's a ray of sunshine that brightens your dull days. You finally understand your mother, the agonising fear she has of losing you. You finally understand the horror she experienced when she lost her four other children.

You also finally understand why Helena threw herself from Maegor's Holdfast.

The thought of what Daemon did still revolts you, and you can't imagine anyone hurting your boy like that.

You turn around. Rhaenyra is still there, in the distance, her crown on her head, her hands crossed in front of her on the heavy fabric of her dress, watching over you. She won't move, a comforting, discreet presence.

A stone bench awaits you by the fountain, on which two cushions have been arranged. A dessert buffet has been set up under the gazebo and you immediately spot your favourite cakes, the strawberry one, the blackberry jam one, and you look down at your son. He hasn't noticed them yet, or he would have already run over, dipped his finger in the whipped cream and stolen a blueberry from one of the tarts, his innocent expression on his face. 

He is definitely a lot like you. Mischievous and clever. An angelic air. He is an easy-going child who never throws a tantrum.

Who understands quickly, too. 

"I love you. I love you more than anything, you know that, don't you, young boy?" your tone is soft, and you kneel down in front of him, your hands on his small shoulders to emphasise the seriousness of your discussion. You search for your words, hesitating. How do you tell a three-year-old that his father, his dead father, is back from the dead and about to meet him?

Of course, Rhaegar knows that his birthfather was valiant, that his birthfather rode the greatest dragon in the world, that his birthfather died in battle.

But there is so much he doesn't know, so much he will inevitably learn as he grows up, and it is precisely that future that frightens you. You hug him as if you're afraid of losing him.

"Princess."

The deep voice of your sworn protector echoes behind you, and you straighten your skirt. 

You know he is there. 

You know you will see him the moment you turn around.

Your heartbeat quickens.

Aemond Targaryen stands behind your sworn protector, surrounded by two guards. His hands are bound in front of him. 

It is so strange to see your uncle in this vulnerable position. He who for so long has been on the other side, he who for so long has been the one who bent others to his will. He looks at you harshly, and you almost feel the need to apologise.

But you know it is a matter of caution.

You know that Daemon, you know that Jace and even your mother would never have agreed to bring him in if such precautions hadn't been taken.

You admire his resilience, his determination. You admire his ability to hold his head high, to be confident, despite the fact that he is being treated like a common prisoner, about to be sentenced to death.

You struggle to swallow the lump that has formed in your throat. 

"Who's that, muña?" Aemond's eyes leave you and immediately drop to the small figure that has appeared beside you, reaching for your hand, huddling against your leg, shy and worried. 

Immediately, your husband's icy gaze, his lilac-coloured eyes, soften.

"Thank you, Sir Rowan. You may leave us."

Despite the worry on his face, your sworn protector nods, unties his prisoner's hands and walks back to your mother, accompanied by the other two guards. You watch them leave, and a strange silence fills the space between you and your uncle.

He doesn't look at you; his eyes are riveted to your son, whom he observes with wonder. He looks as if he is admiring the most beautiful and fascinating discovery he has ever seen. You look down to see Rhaegar's reaction, and he seems as intimidated as he is hypnotised by that gaze, by that blue and purple eye so similar to his owns, by this man looking at him as if he were one of the most marvellous things in the world. 

"Gods, he's perfect," Aemond murmurs as he looks up at you, emerging from his trance. He comes closer to embrace you. And for once, there is something other than his usual brutal possessiveness and ferocity when his arms close around you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Aemond is shy at first. Awkward. 

He's shy and amazed as he follows your son's every move with his good eye. From time to time, his gaze rests on you, as if to make sure he's not dreaming. As if to make sure he is doing right, seeking your approval.

Rhaegar is shy too, at first.

When he sits on your lap, he snuggles up to you, buries his face in your neck, one of your locks curled in his chubby little hand and he rubs it against his nose. From time to time, he turns to give his father a curious look, recognising his own eyes in the unfamiliar face before him. 

Aemond's expression grows gentler, a softness never seen in his features before.

Once he has tamed the stranger, the little boy pecks at the blueberries in the tart in front of him. He shakes his legs, hitting your knees in painful little jabs, and your arm wraps around his body to hold him down.

Rhaegar loves cake, and the sugar may be coaxing him, for he's regaining his appetite for talking.

"He really does have my eyes," Aemond whispers incredulously, and his voice, still foreign to his son's ears, causes the little boy to lift his head.

" It is definitely the only thing he has inherited from you," you reply, teasing him with a small smile at the corner of your lips.

Soon Rhaegar finishes the blueberry tart, the cream smeared over the bottom of his face and the tip of his nose.

"He inherited that from you, that is certain." Aemond grins, pointing with his long chin at the boy's voracious appetite for cakes and pastries.

You have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. That your husband is really standing in front of you, with your son, like a normal family. 

That he was truly trying to tell a joke.

This form of domesticity is so alien to your relationship, and yet so pleasant, that you find yourself thinking that perhaps you have made the right decision, indeed, if every day can be like this. 

"Your muña deserves some cake too, what do you say, little one?"

Rhaegar giggles. Aemond cuts a slice of your favourite cake, the one with the strawberries, and puts it on your plate. 

You blush. After all these years, he hasn't forgotten which one is your favourite.

You can't even really whisper a thank you because this apparent domesticity, this feeling of completeness, this interlude of happiness makes you uneasy. Anxious.

You have the feeling that at any moment you'll be plunged back into the horror of what you went through all those years ago. 

You have the feeling that at any moment the Gods will be cruel and snatch away this happiness that you've barely been able to taste, leaving only the memory of its sweet taste on your lips.

You breathe in and out, as you often do when you feel your palpitations rising in your chest.

"Do you... do you want to take him on your lap?" you ask your uncle with shyness, your hand stroking Rhaegar's thick brown curls. Aemond looks at you as if you have spoken in a foreign language. Lips parted, he is about to say something, but not a sound escapes his lips. His lonely eye travels from you to your son, from your son to you, in silence.

"I don't know if -"

You can hear the doubt in his voice, and it's almost touching to see him lose his confidence in front of his own son, to see him so nervous and unsure of himself.

You let out a little laugh, not in mockery, obviously, just full of tenderness.

You know what he's thinking.

He's afraid of frightening him.

He's afraid of harming him.

"You won't hurt him, Aemond."

He answers nothing. He still doesn't like to look vulnerable, unsure, and you know it has to do with his childhood. With all he has kept bottled up inside him all these years. He will need time.

Your eyes fall back to the little boy sitting in your lap, and you draw his attention to yourself by stroking the curls on his forehead.

"Do you want to go to Aemond for a while? To kepus?" 

you correct yourself immediately, and Rhaegar nods in agreement.

You are amazed at how easily he slips off your legs to run to his father, to pull himself onto his lap, when only a few hours ago he was so intimidated by the presence of this stranger with the eyepatch.

Your uncle automatically puts his arm around his waist to make him feel comfortable, his new role taking root in him. His fingers reach for the cloth on the table, and he wipes Rhaegar's face, who can't help but burst out laughing at his father's clumsy gestures.

For a split second you are lost in contemplating the horizon, the stillness of the sea. You taste the sea breeze on your face.

And then you turn your head towards the cobbled path where the guards and your sworn protector are still stationed. 

Your mother is no longer there, and you notice that you have not at any time felt the need to seek comfort in her presence. 

You smile, for in the end you know you've made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Dragonstone, 6 months later.

When you walk the corridors of the place that saw you grow up, you are no longer haunted by the ghosts and their incessant cries. A kind of peace has settled over you, a return to the pleasant familiarity you've waited so long for.

You still think of Luke, of course. Of Luke and Joff and little Aegon and Viserys, your brothers you will never see grow old. 

But you no longer feel their disapproving glances at every step you take. You are no longer kept awake by their cries, by their tears, by the remorse that twists your stomach. 

You no longer blame yourself. 

Perhaps you've finally learnt to make peace with yourself.

The heavy door of the bedroom you share with Aemond is half open, and you slip your head into the doorway, piqued by curiosity.

Snuggled on your husband's lap, Rhaegar is staring at the pages of a large book, the corners of which you can guess are horned, the cover worn, from being carried everywhere. You can imagine the jam stains that mark the paper with children's fingerprints. You know exactly which page is missing, the one you and Aemond accidentally tore out and hid so the Septa wouldn't notice, so many years ago. 

It is a book about dragons, the very one the two of you used to read hidden under the table when you were so young and innocent, long before the torment of war.

Without a sound, you lean against the doorframe and contemplate for a moment the perfect vision before you.

You don't have the cruelty to disturb them.

 "This one is Vhaegar!" shouts Rhaegar, and you hold your breath, searching Aemond's face for any hint that might betray his reaction. The mention of his former dragon is still a sensitive subject for him, you know it.

"Yes, that's Vhagar." he pauses. "She was brave."

From the corner of his eye, Aemond spots your silhouette in the faint glow of the corridor, and his attention lingers on you for a moment. He's almost embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable, intimate moment, but you smile tenderly to encourage him.

"And big!" the little boy adds, energetically raising his arms to the sky to emphasise his words.

"Yes, and big." There's a suspended moment of silence where the words hang in the air, and then your husband gently ruffles his son's hair. It's a tender sight to see them bond like this, and your heart fills with happiness.

Taking a step forward, you step into the light of the room and Rhaegar expresses his joy at seeing you. You smile back at him and approach the chair where Aemond sits, your son on his lap.

Your uncle's hand instantly rests on the curve of your belly, which he still stares at with the same protective instinct, the same fascination, as the day you told him the news. His eyes sparkle.

"Your daughter is restless today."

He looks up at you, not without lingering for a moment on your breasts and their new shape.

"My daughter?" he asks, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"I'm convinced it's a girl. You reply, smiling wryly, and take a seat in the armchair next to the one where Aemond and your son are sitting, facing the fireplace. "And she took after her father, given her temper," you tease him, your hand on the top of your rounded belly to soothe the baby growing there. 

Rhaegar's eyes close slowly. Nestled against the chest of the man who, just a few months ago, was still a stranger, he fights sleep, he fights to stay awake, but tiredness quickly overcomes him. And then he falls asleep, his mouth half open, the movements of his breath making his chest rise and fall rhythmically.

Aemond finally gets up. You follow his movements with your eyes as he approaches you, the child in his arms, and he plants a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm going to put him to bed. I'll be right back." He straightens and lowers his voice.

"I wouldn't fail in my duty and neglect my wife." The heat rises to your cheeks, turning them red at the implication of what awaits you tonight. You're already wet between your thighs at the thought. 

But you nod in agreement and watch him walk away. 

You are left alone in the silence of the room. The only sound around you is the steady crackling of the fire.

It's strange, you think, to be back on Dragonstone, in the familiarity of the stones you've spent most of your life between, after getting used to the idea of not surviving the war.

To the idea of dying from a broken heart.

To the idea of dying, the umpteenth victim of the vicious spiral of conflict that has torn your family apart.

And yet here you are.

With your own family.

For once you have hope for the future. You hear the cries of your little brother, lost in the storm so long ago, but they are quickly replaced by the laughter of a happy memory. 

And finally, you have the absolute confirmation that you have made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** ***

Thank you so much for reading!! <3

Tag list : @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis (I'm tagging you since you asked for it ❤️)

[miguelhugger2099]

OMG imagine the one bed trope w miguel. like idk why itd happen, maybe like they’re scoping out an anomaly in another universe and somehow the portal back gets blocked and they gotta stay the night at a hotel, but miguel and reader are stuck in the same bed (she SWEARS she booked two beds but oops! all the rooms are filled up!) and like oh no they need this hotel!! so at first they’re really rigid and like miguel’s all tense, he’s like “i’ll sleep on the floor” but reader is like “no it’s okay we can share! i don’t move a lot in my sleep anyway” (that’s a lie btw.) so then like miguel’s wide awake in the middle of the night, and reader keeps shifting in her sleep, and they end up in a pretty compromising position if ykwim… and then maybe she wakes up and finds miguel like so flustered and starts teasing him a bit and then things heat up ofc… idk just a thought! it’s been so long since i’ve seen the one bed trope tbh. (fem reader btw plssss)

Forced Proximity

i tried with my best with this 🫠 i wanted to try something new instead of regular p in v i hope that's okay 😭 thank u for requesting! if anything, i'd be happy to redo this when my requests open again

Miguel x Reader, Suggestive/Smut, Word Count: 2,271

Just as you and Miguel were about to shoot your webs at the new anomaly, a black bubbly portal opened up and sucked them up into another dimension. “Dammit!” You cursed, groaning at the convenience of an anomaly escaping. Miguel is already beside you, mask eyes squinted in focus as he clicks buttons on his watch. “Where’d he run off to?” You ask him. “No clue. Trying to track him now but the touchpad isn’t responding.” He grunts and furiously taps his screen but it seems to be glitching. He tries to open a portal back to HQ but it only warbles a little bit before shutting close again. “Let me try.” You lift up your watch to try and press the same coordinates when it responds the same way: a little warping but it shuts close. “Lyla,” Miguel calls out and she pops up between you two. “Run an analysis on our watches.” Her small heart glasses fog up with various numbers and letters, codes that only she knows. “Looks like the watches are bugged, Mig. Probably an effect the anomaly had.” “So we’re stranded?” You rip off your mask and place a hand on your hip. “Yup!” She nods. “For how long?” Miguel pinches his nose bridge with his finger and thumb.

“Well, most part-time spiders are off doing other missions in other dimensions and the other half of them have the day off. No one will be available until morning.” “So, we’re staying the night.” You lift your arms up and slap them down. “I’m finding a hotel.” You turn and look around for any around you two. Miguel sighs and faces Lyla. “Is there another way home? Are we safe from the glitching?” Lyla nods, pulling up frames and data for him to look at. “Safe from glitching. Probably just a program issue. Maybe an update issue. Unfortunately, not even Margo is at HQ so your next bet is waiting for a spider to portal you two back.” She explains and glitches out of the air. He tries to find a new solution but comes up short, deciding to just accept it before he grows angry. Miguel hears you calling his name as you run back to where Lyla and him were standing. “Okay, I found a hotel! I talked to this lady up front–luckily the currency is the same as yours–and we got extra lucky,” You huffed with a wide smile on your face. “They’re pretty busy but she managed to get us a room with two beds and two bathrooms. Left her a tip, hope you don’t mind.” You placed your hands on your hips and continued to grin at the frown on his lips.

Miguel rolled his eyes and called for Lyla, her little form glitching back and perching on his shoulder. “Lyla, get back to base. Let the others know we’ve been stranded and call for backup whenever someone’s available.” Her vibrant yellow glare shifts as she moves, her hand coming up in a salute and a police hat glitching on her head. “You got it, boss! Have fun you two!” She giggles and phases out. Miguel passes by you coldly, heading for the hotel where you booked for the night. You yawn behind him, just wanting to rest after a wasted day of failing to catch an anomaly. You walked through the hallways of the hotel, checking down at your key for the number of your room. Once you found it, you slipped the keycard on the lock and opened the door. “Home sweet–” You cut yourself off after peeking into the room and what greeted you was a singular bed. “Wha–?!” You glanced back at the roomkey number and the plate outside, finding the two matching that this was indeed your room for the night. “I swear I asked for two–” “I’ll take the floor.” Miguel grumbles behind you, his entire frame stiff and rigid. You take a look up at him and his face is unamused and staring straight ahead to avoid your eye. “No, it’s–it’s fine,” You chuckle nervously and walk over to the bed. You pat the edge of it and try to convince yourself and Miguel that everything was fine. “There’s so much space. It’s like–what– a king size? We have plenty of room to share!” Miguel doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest, already making a move to grab a pillow. “I don’t even move that much in my sleep! Promise! Pinky promise.” You hold up your pinky to Miguel and he stops to stare at your hand with a deadpan expression. “Fine.” He grunts, placing the pillow back down and not wanting to deal with you any further since he was exhausted.

You, in fact, actually do move a lot in your sleep–Miguel figured out. He really was exhausted and expected himself to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow but with you next to him, it was like the energy hadn’t left his body. He laid there straight as a pole with the blanket at his chest and staring at the ceiling. You were in dreamland, snoozing and sprawled on the mattress– blissfully unaware of Miguel’s misery by the situation at hand. You shifted around in your sleep, your hand hitting his shoulder or your leg bumping against his ankle. Miguel could handle it. He’s spent many uncomfortable all-nighters so he thought to himself that one more wouldn’t be too damaging for him. It wasn’t until you moved further to his side of the bed that had Miguel’s heart racing. You turned to his side, throwing your leg over his and your arm draped around his neck to bring him closer to you. His arm instinctively went under your body and held your waist while you pressed yourself against him, so as to not make the position uncomfortable for either of you. Miguel’s cheeks burned while you nuzzled to his chest, acting like he was some sort of teddy bear. He hoped his heartbeat wouldn’t wake you from your slumber. Your thighs were close together and any closer you’d start accidentally grinding on him. Miguel looked back up at the ceiling and prayed that you’d move soon.

His prayers were not answered. You woke up after feeling a bit too much heat and it became unbearable to sleep through. You blinked away the sleep groggily, wondering why the pillow you had been on had gotten a little more firm. You lifted your head to see you weren’t on your pillow but basically cuddling up against your boss. You looked down to see your legs intertwined together and turned your head to apologize when you stopped seeing Miguel’s cheeks flush red. His eyes did not meet yours but you felt the pounding of his heart. A smile curled up on your lips, apology wiped off your mind and instead leaning into wanting to taunt him for how shy he’s acting. “Miguel,” You tease with a bit of laughter. “Aw, c’mon. A little accidental cuddle gets you nervous?” Miguel glares at you from the corner of his eye. As you laugh, you continue moving against him. You don’t notice how he takes a sharp inhale when your knee brushes against his crotch as you lift yourself up. Your hands rest on either side of his head. “Did you even sleep? Or did you just stay up all night like some perv?” You snort, having the time of your life seeing your usually sulking boss look so cute with red scattered across his cheeks. Miguel squeezes your waist then uses both his hands to grab you and force you down on his thigh. You gasp in shock, all playfulness leaving your body as your core hits his firm muscle. The action ignites a spark in your chest that sends it straight between your legs, making you whimper, all in a split second.

You snap your head towards him, cheeks already burning and mouth dropped open in shock. Miguel meets it with a cheshire like grin, his own blush on his cheeks but less now that you’re  more flustered than him. “Careful,” He says. “Wouldn’t want to be some sort of perv, huh?” You could’ve sworn his voice dropped down an octave. You stutter, unable to respond back as he rendered you speechless. His thigh flexed and it sent a jolt up your spine with your cunt throbbing which he felt. Maybe it was him being tired, drained from the day that he was acting out of character. Too tired to care about the consequences while his mind clouded and numbed his usual feelings. For now, he enjoyed the way your hands gripped onto his shoulders, cute eyes wide open and feeling the delicious beat of your pussy on his thigh. He rubs your hips on his thigh, his muscle flexing to put some stimulation to your pussy. You squeak and lean forward as the pleasure runs through your body and makes you grow hot. “Miguel…!” You gasp and moan. You automatically grind yourself on him and his grin widens, leaning back to see the show. Miguel feels your wetness seep through the thin fabric of your suit and panties onto his own suit. He phases just a small part of his thigh out his suit to feel just how wet you’ve gotten with a little teasing. “Already?” He murmurs and your cheeks burn brightly. “You like this, huh?” “Fuck…” You huff out, hanging your head to not meet his gaze. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he moves your hips. “C’mon. Show me how much you like this.” You know he was only doing this to get back at you for teasing him, for booking a one bed instead of two and with how his patience had run out from being stranded here, you decided not to test that anger anymore.

So you slowly moved up and down his thigh with a soft whimper, shutting your eyes close while you did so. Your breathing grew heavy, and you shook with every slight movement on his end. Slowly, you picked up speed, the lust flooding your mind and the pace you were going at hadn’t been enough. You humped his thigh faster, still opting out of looking down at him. “Shit…Not enough…” You murmured under your breath, not thinking he’d heard you over the accumulating wet sounds on his skin and shuffling of bed sheets. “Let me help.” You hear him say and feel his hand by the zipper of your suit at the nape of your neck. Weak from your pleasure, you let him tug your suit off your torso. Miguel tapped your thighs as a signal to lift yourself up while he slipped the rest of it off you. You were now bare in front of him, his hands placed back at your hips. You still felt embarrassed, trying to cover up your chest with your arms and hands. Miguel wasn’t having it, growing annoyed at you covering yourself. He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you flushed down on his chest. “Keep going.” He growled. The rumble of his voice went straight to your cunt once more, succumbing to him as you began grinding yourself on him, skin to skin. Your folds smeared your juices on his thighs coating him in your wetness. The swollen nub of your clit rolled deliciously between you and his thigh and you panted softly as you tried chasing you high.

“There you go. That’s it.” Miguel murmured, bucking his thigh to your pussy to the same pace of your humping. He held your hip with one hand to help you and his other hand raked up and down your back, his talons scratching your flesh. “You’re doing so good. Good girl riding my thigh, yeah?” He purred which made you groan and buck your hips faster. “Miguel…” You breathed out. “More, more.” You pleaded. His talons pricked your skin. “Cum on my thigh first and maybe I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Peter B. met you two once the portal fully opened up in your stranded dimension. He greeted you with a smile, Mayday babbling in her carrier. “Hey! Glad you guys survived the night. Took a minute to get you guys. Sorry about that.” He playfully punched Miguel’s and your shoulder. You beamed at him and held Mayday’s little hand, wiggling it around softly enough to make her giggle. “Hope it wasn’t agonizing.” Peter chuckles to you. You chuckle back and step away from Mayday, giving the two a smile. “Not at all. He’s surprisingly good company.” Miguel doesn’t react behind you. “Oh, yeah? Must be going soft. Big guy isn’t just pleasant for anybody.” Peter says. “Funny how things work out.” You grin and turn around to peck Miguel’s cheek and walk towards the portal. “I’ll see you guys later?” You give a wink and slip into the portal, your body phasing out and leaving the two men behind. Peter gapes at the warping space where you had just left and slowly turns to Miguel to see his friend, very much stiff but his face has a slight tint to it. “Did something happen–” Miguel shoves his face aside and phases his mask over his head to hide his cheeks. “Cállate.” He mutters and enters into the portal towards his dimension.

Peter gets snapped out of his stupor by Mayday babbling and waving her arms around as if cheering Miguel and you on. Peter looks down at her and grabs her little hand in his. “He’s growin’ up, huh?” Mayday squeals.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 20 pt. 2- I Do

Summary: It's wedding time, baby.

Word Count: 17.4K (.....I'm so sorry)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (holy SHIT you guys, I really went balls to the wall on this one, I fear), kind of semi-public sex (you already know these horndogs are going at it again), More getting caught (Steve is causing his own problems at this point), wedding things!!, family dynamics, mentions of death/grief, lots of emotions, alcohol/drinking, so many feelings (grab the tissues, friends), Javi being adorable with kids, Javi being so in LOVE it HURTS?!? So much joy and happiness because Javi deserves the world and more

A/N: HELLO. Part 2 is finally finished *insert Spongebob narrator voice* 4 years later 🫠 Omg y'all, thank you SO much for bearing with me as I finish this, it has been a labor of love like no other, but I am so excited to finally share our favorite couple's special day and finally GET THESE TWO MARRIED 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I would very much be lying if I said I didn't cry multiple times writing this chapter 🥺 I can't believe these two are actually getting married- words can't express how thankful I am for everyone who's wanted to stick around and read my silly little story to see these two make it to their wedding day- your support and kind words mean more to me than you will ever know 💛 Poorly beta'd bc I'm the worst, also, I've seen that sometimes people have issues reblogging things with comments that are this long (my apologies), but comments and reblogs make me wanna cry and throw up with joy, so it means a lot to me if you're able to leave a comment if it won't let you reblog with one!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Never had you been so anxious to walk in a straight line. 

Because truth be told, that was all you needed to do to walk down the aisle- walk in a straight line. 

But when that straight line meant the walk to finally get to marry your future husband, to take his last name, to start the beginning of your forever together, not to mention kissing him in front of all your closest family and friends, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach swirling in anticipation as you waited for your ceremony to start. 

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi asked, his thumb gently stroking your hand that he had been holding since the moment he saw you, almost as if he was refusing to let go. You looked up at him, big brown puppy dog eyes staring down at you with a goofy grin that hadn’t left his face, the sight of his handsome, broad frame easing your racing heart enough to help you remember that when you walked down that aisle in a few short minutes, he was the only thing that mattered. 

“I’m perfect.” You smiled, pressing up on your toes just enough to peck his lips quickly before someone in the wedding party needed to barrate you both again about saving your kissing until after you were finally married. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this many people staring all at me at once. Knowing my luck, I’m gonna trip and fall over this dress before I can even make it to you. Or better yet, with my dumbass decision to have David and Charlie walk me down the aisle, I’ll be lucky if they don’t push me to the ground first.” 

“Well, even if you did fall, you would still be the most beautiful woman on the face of this Earth. My clumsy, grass-stained wife.” Javi snickered, giving you a little nudge as you rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove back. 

“Pendejo. You have both of our vows books, right? You promise you haven’t peeked?” 

“Yup, both right here in my pocket.” Javi smiled, patting his tux by his chest. “Promise I haven’t read it. Although for my sake I probably should have, because if I can’t even make it through seeing you in your dress, then these vows are gonna make me a fuckin’ goner.” 

“Bold of you to assume I had nice things to say about you in there.” You teased, raising your eyebrow as you smirked at him, making Javi shake his head as he laughed. 

“Alright everyone, it’s 3:00, it’s time to get this show on the road! Make sure you’re in order like we practiced, that you take your time walking down to the music, girls, please do not throw petals at each other, and make sure you all- Javi, where are you? You’re supposed to be at the front of this line, sir.” Connie sassed, proving to you that she really was the perfect person for the task of making sure that things ran smoothly today, bossing the group around like the captain of a well organized ship. 

“Sorry, I’m coming,” Javi replied sheepishly. “I love you, Osita.” Sliding the hand that was entangled with yours around your waist, Javi pulled you in for a kiss, much more obviously than he probably should have, considering the shit the two of you were about to get being literal minutes away from getting married. 

“Javier! Get you A-S-S up here! Kiss her all you want once you say I do!” Connie shouted, rolling her eyes at the two of you, Javi pulling away in defense with his hands raised, trying to prove his innocence. 

“Oh, I know what that one spells, Mrs. Murphy! That one spells-” 

“Javi? Please?” Connie asked again, quickly trying her best to cut off your niece, Olivia, before she could finish the rest of her thought in front of everyone else, making the group giggle at her matter of factness. 

“Okay, okay, I’m here!” Javi pleaded, making his way to the front of the procession, taking his place next to his dad as Connie did one more check through of everyone’s spot in line before giving the music an all clear to start playing. 

As you stood at the end of the line, you peeked up to see Javi turned around staring back at you with that same stupid smile on his face, completely enamored and awestruck by you, already convincing you that you were going to turn into a puddle before you could even make it down the aisle. 

But as you went to re-adjust your bouquet in your grasp, you quickly realized there were not one, but two things missing from your procession line, now about to start walking down the aisle. 

Your brothers. 

Despite having seen them only seconds ago, as you quickly whipped your head around, they were now nowhere to be found. 

“Charlie? David? Where the fuck did you go?” You whisper shouted, frantically looking around for any sight of them.

Suddenly, you heard a rustling from one of the bushes around the corner from where you had been lined up and waiting, followed by the all too familiar voices of your brothers up to no good. 

“Just finish it you dingus, I already drank the first half!” 

“Why the fuck did we leave this out here? It’s fucking warm. You got the better half, that’s not fair!” 

“It was warm when I drank it too, dumbwad. Just finish it, we gotta fucking go, hurry up!” 

As you peered behind the bush, you saw your brothers wiping their mouth with the back of their hands as the tossed a can of Miller Lite to the ground, freezing in fear as they saw your menacing and disappointed glare staring back at them. 

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?!” 

“It was David’s idea!” Charlie responded, pointing at his brother. 

“Charlie didn’t say no!” David responded back, now pointing at him. “You didn’t expect us to get through this sober, did you? You’re the one who asked us to marry you, so I don’t know what to tell ya, Cubby. Plus, we wanted to pour one out for Patrick since he’s the luckiest bastard out of all of us and doesn’t have to worry about fucking up marrying his little sister.” 

“God, you two are idiots. Well that thing you agreed to do is happening as we speak so can we go do that, please?” You sighed, trying your best not to laugh at your brother’s antics, knowing that you really should have expected nothing less from the pair after you and Javi had asked them to officiate your wedding, considering neither of you had wanted anything religious, and wanted someone who knew you to be the ones to do it. 

“Okay, okay!” They replied, one rushing to each side of you and hooking their arm around yours as you made your way back to your spot at the end of the processional line that had now begun to move forward. 

“Where were you 3 dumbbells? The ceremony is starting!” Your dad gruffed, trying his best to restrain from slapping each of you upside the head. 

“Cubby wanted a beer.” David replied, shrugging his shoulders, keeping his head facing forward, trying his best not to laugh. 

“Honey, seriously?!” Your mom scolded, looking at you with disgust. 

“I did not! I was trying to find these two idiots!” You groaned, eying your brothers as they shook you back and forth between them in their grasp. “I hate you both, I hope you know that.” 

“We love you too, Cubby.” Charlie smirked, knowing that for as much as you said it, there wasn’t a bone in your body that could hate your brothers. For as dumb and annoying as they were, there would never be another moment you would take for granted with them, knowing all too well that life was much too short to do anything but cherish your time together, wishing you had more time to spend with the brother who couldn’t be here with you today. 

Before you could respond, your thought was interrupted by the voice of the DJ through the speakers set up outside, your heart steadily beginning to pound at the reality that everything you had been waiting for was all about to become real. 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen if you could please find your seats, we’re about to get started with our ceremony! Thank you so much, folks!” As his voice echoed through the speakers, a hush began to fall over the crowd of your friends and family that had gathered here, now anxiously alongside you for the ceremony to begin. 

A few seconds passed before you could hear the music beginning to play, the familiar melody of “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac ringing through the speakers- an easily unanimous pick for a song to walk down the aisle to for you and Javi, remembering the first night you had spent together in your apartment, making midnight mac n’ cheese and already falling head over heels in love with each other. 

As the beat began to pick up, your heart started to race, peaking over the backs of everyone’s heads to watch all 5 of your flower girls begin to skip down the aisle, throwing petals every which way around them as they moved.

You couldn’t help but laugh as all their little personalities shone through as they made their way to the altar- Olivia Murphy, being the oldest, most definitely was taking her role the most seriously, holding her baby sister in one hand and carefully sprinkling flowers evenly in front of her. Your niece, Olivia, was second in line to live up to her role, although, being the little ham she was, threw in the occasional twirl in the middle of the aisle to get people to look at her, along with her little waves to the crowd. The rest of the girls, Brianna, Abby and Madison, well, you were just happy that they made it down the aisle, thankful that their older sisters were at least on the lookout enough to keep them from running through the rows of your guests or dumping the entire bucket of flowers on themselves (you had learned your lesson from your rehearsal dinner that Brianna needed about half as less flowers as the others).

Your face lit up watching the girls, your heart filling with joy with the “awhs” and laughter from the crowd at their theatrics as they met at the altar with an impressively semi-rehearsed curtsy, followed by promptly running out of the spotlight and over to Connie who was waiting for them. 

Now that the flower girls had finished making their way down, the processional line began to shift forward once again, this time, leaving Javi and his dad to walk down together, Javi insisting that even though his mom would have been the one to walk him down if she was here, that wanted Chucho to be there in her place instead. 

“Ready, Mijo?” Chucho grinned, giving Javi a little nudge. “Am I going to have to keep you from sprinting down the aisle, or do you think you can manage walking?” 

As the pair began walking down to the melodic beat of the song, Javi couldn’t help but laugh at his dad’s comment, because as much as he wanted to tease him right back, he knew damn well he was so excited that he would have run to the altar if it meant he got to marry you even a minute quicker. 

“Javier?” Chucho asked, looking up at his son with tears in his eyes as the pair moved down the parted pathway between the crowd of guests. 

“Yeah, Pops?” 

“Estoy orgulloso de ti, mijo. Tu mama y yo. (I am so proud of you, son. Me and your mother.) We are so happy that you have found your media naranja (other half). Nosotros te amamos. (We love you so much.)” 

As Javi and Chucho reached the end of the aisle, Javi wrapped his arms around his dad, pulling him close as Chucho patted him on the back, pulling away to look at his son, tears now in both of their eyes, thinking about how far they had come to end up where they were in this very moment, thanking whatever greater power that had finally brought them and Lucia the peace they all desperately deserved. 

Javier Pena knew he was worthy of the love and happiness that his parents had longed for. He had finally proved to himself and his parents he really was the good man that he had hoped to be. 

“I love you, Pops. Thank you for everything.” Javi whispered to his dad, trying to fight back any more tears from falling down his cheeks. 

“Te amo mucho, Javier. (I love you so much, Javier). Thank you for finally realizing that who you are is enough. Now, stop crying over your old man and save some tears for your wife.” Chucho laughed quietly, giving his son another pat on the back with a soft smile wrinkling his cheeks. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at the tearful mess he already was, giving his father one last hug before Chucho took his seat next to Connie and the flower girls at the front of the crowd. 

Steve was the next to make his way to the altar, Javi laughing at his friend’s goofy strut to greet him at the end of the aisle. Steve held out his hand to shake Javi’s before quickly pulling Javi in for another hug with pats to the back much harder than his fathers. 

“Listen, man. I ain’t good at this sentimental shit, but uh- I’m really fuckin’ happy for you, Javi. I know I give you shit, but you’re one of the good ones. She’s a lucky girl. And I hope you know you’re sure as hell one lucky son of a bitch. Love you, man.” 

“Love you too, Murph. Believe me, I know.” Javi grinned, giving Steve a slap on his shoulder laughing to himself as his friend sat down next to his wife and the girls, never imagining himself standing at the altar, happily waiting to get married while his former partner cheered him on, surrounded by his gaggle of giggly daughters. 

Feeling worlds away from Javi, your heart began to beat faster and faster, realizing that you were now only one pair away from making your trek down the aisle as your mom and dad walked down next, arm in arm. 

In classic mom fashion, your mother squeezed Javi so hard as she greeted him, that you were convinced that she was going to pop an eyeball out one of his sockets, thankful that your dad was there to reel her in enough to keep from suffocating him in her hug. 

“Javi. We love you so much. Thank you for making our daughter so happy. We’re so grateful she found you.” 

“Thank you. I love you both, too. Believe me, I’m just as grateful that she found me. Thanks for making me feel like a part of your family.” Javi replied to your mom, catching his breath through his smile after the death grip your mom had wrapped him in before looking over at your dad, extending his hand to meet his already outstretched one. 

“Jav, you’re a good man. I’m a guy of few words, but we couldn’t be happier for you both. Take care of her, okay?” 

“I will. I promise.” 

With a silent handshake and a nod, Javi and your dad had said all they’d needed to know that they couldn’t be more thankful for the love and support the other had brought you in the times that you had needed it most. 

As your parents made their way to their seats, standing at the opposite end of the aisle with your brothers at your side, the realization really hit you- You were the last one that needed to meet Javi. 

“You ready, Cubby?” Charlie asked, giving you a grin as he smiled down at you, interlocking your arm with his as David did the same on the other side. 

“Yeah, I’m ready. Hey, uh- I just, I just wanted to say, I-I love you guys.” 

“Gross.” David teased, scrunching his face in disgust, pretending to barf over his shoulder as you and Charlie laughed, shaking your head at your brother. “We love you too, dude.” 

With one final giggle and deep breath, you took your first step into view where everyone could see you, watching the guests rise to their feet in anticipation of your arrival, awestruck stares and smiles filling the crowd as you began to walk. 

Even though you had seen each other minutes ago, as you started to make your way down the aisle, smiling at Javi, the two of you couldn’t help but break into tears once again, laughing through your sobs that Javi broke before you did, trying to wipe his wet cheeks with the back of his hand while he watched you walk towards him. 

And even though every pair of eyes were on you, the only eyes you needed to see were Javi’s- The sweet, soft brown eyes that you had fallen so deeply in love with from the moment you had locked eyes with them all that time ago. They were the eyes of the first person who had ever truly seen you for who you were, inside and out, and you couldn’t be more thankful that when you looked at him, you saw your forever. When you looked at Javier Pena, you knew you were home. 

It almost felt as if time was standing still, that even in a crowd full of people, no one else existed besides the two of you. No one else mattered, and nothing else mattered- the only thing that mattered for you was Javi waiting for you at the end of the aisle, and you? You were going to finally be his wife. 

“You two are so in love, it’s fucking sick.” David whispered in your ear, helping to ease your tears as you burst into more laughter, rolling your eyes at your brother. 

“Oh shut up, asshole.” 

As you, David and Charlie finally made your way to Javi, waiting for you in a mess of happy smiles and loving tears, you had to use everything in you to keep from jumping onto him like a koala and kiss him all over his stupidly handsome face, resorting to reaching out to grab his hand instead, interlocking it with yours and giving it the tightest squeeze you could. 

“Hey, Mr. Peña. Long time, no see.” You whispered into Javi’s ear, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before took his other hand in yours, the two of you facing each other in front of your friends and family as David and Charlie took their place behind you, pulling out their notes that they had prepared, clearing their throats as they began to address the crowd. 

“Alright everyone, I uh- I guess we’re gettin’ this show on the road.” Speaking out into the crowd, Charlie began to flip to the right page of his script that you were relieved to see he had written out, your guests beginning to silence and bringing their attention to you and Javi. 

“Hi everyone, for those of you who don’t know us, we are the bride’s brothers, and we have the honor of our sister and our new brother-in-law being stupid enough to let us be in charge of marrying them today. Not to worry, 20 dollars and one course on the internet later, David and I are both legally ordained, so not to fear you two, this will all be legit, and hopefully not too embarrassing.” Charlie laughed, also eliciting giggles and eye rolls from you and Javi, as well as the crowd. 

“Well, we are gathered here today, because these two idiots have fallen so head over heels for each other, it's almost sickening. We’ve had the privilege of knowing our sister for the entirety of our lives. When we found out as kids that our mom was having another baby, and that it was going to be a girl, my brothers and I were disappointed, to say the least. We didn’t want a sister to ruin the bond that we had, and honestly, for a long time while my mom was pregnant, we went through a long baby boycott, and were convinced if we protested long enough, and hard enough, she would eventually turn into a boy, and everything would be fine.” David grimaced, shrugging his shoulders at you as you nodded in agreement, having heard this story from your brothers and parents plenty of times before. 

“And while at first, we weren’t really sure what to do with a sister, considering we didn’t even realize it was an option to pee sitting down until she came around,” Charlie snickered, making the crowd laugh again, aside from your mom, who was rolling her eyes so hard, they probably had made it to the back of her head, “Our sister ended up being one of the best things that could have ever happened to us.” 

Breaking your eye contact with Javi, you paused to look over at your brother, a genuine smile on his face, raising his eyebrows and shrugging as if to say I’m just as surprised that I’m saying this out loud as you. 

“Growing up with our sister has taught us a lot of things- Don’t challenge her to anything you don’t wanna lose at, because she’ll find a way to beat you, and thoroughly kick your ass while she does it, she’s got more brain cells that myself, Charlie, and our late brother Patrick did put together, she’s tougher than most guys I know, and she’s one of the biggest hearted people I’ve ever met.” Looking back at Javi, you could see his face beaming with joy, giving your hand a squeeze, agreeing with everything your brothers had to say, and how all of those traits had made him fall so madly in love with you. 

“So, like brothers do, we never assumed that there would never be anyone good enough, let alone even cool enough for our badass sister. And also like brothers do, we let her go through her fair share of duds and gave her shit, but when this guy came around,” Charlie smiled, pointing at Javi, “we knew that he was something special.” 

“Javi,” David joined in pointing, giving him a playful smirk, “Don’t think you were getting out of this so easy. When we first heard that our sister had made her way down to the middle of nowhere Texas and had started seeing you, our first reaction was instant disapproval, because if you lived in south Texas, you probably knew jackshit about hockey, and that was a no go for us.” 

“But,” Charlie interjected, “After talking to our sister more on the phone, not only was she starting to turn into the happy, energetic self we hadn’t seen in so long, we also learned after talking to her that you not only had been willing to watch hockey with her, but had began to openly express your disdain for the Detroit Red Wings, which made us change our opinions on you very quickly.” 

You and Javi looked at your brothers, rolling your eyes in laughter as they shrugged at you, the roar of cackles from the crowd making you grin, feeling the love from your brothers, friends and family swell in your chest, holding Javi’s hands even tighter, gazing up at him with an awestruck smile. 

“No in all seriousness, Jav. We couldn’t be happier that you not only have become a part of our sister’s life, but our family’s life, too. For those of you who don’t know, we um- we, uh-,” David gulped, taking a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes, “our other brother, Patrick, um, passed away last year, and it uh, it was really hard on all of us, especially our sister. Javi, man, I don’t think you’ll ever understand how thankful we are that you love our sister so unconditionally. Better yet, that you love our family of idiots so unconditionally, because truth be told, we are not an easy bunch to love. While obviously, you can’t ever replace Patrick, I just, I hope you know that we’re so glad to have you as a brother, and that Patrick really would have loved you, man. He would be so happy that you’re the one our sister gets to spend the rest of her life with.” 

For what felt like the 117th time today, you found yourself in absolute tears, feeling the wetness streaming down your cheeks as you looked down at the #2 patch sewn on the bottom corner of your veil in a beautiful mixture of sadness and joy before looking up to see not a dry eye in front of you, both your brothers and Javi misty eyed and sniffling. Breaking his grasp from yours, Javi stepped towards your brothers, wrapping his arms around both of them to pull them into a long, tight hug, Charlie and David reciprocating as their arms patted his back. 

“Thank you guys.” Javi whispered, choking back his tears as he pulled away to look at your brothers, all of you wiping your wet faces with your hands to try and compose yourselves to carry on with the ceremony. 

“Damn, okay, well, sorry about that, folks, was not expecting that.” Charlie and David laughed, trying to shake off their unusually sappy sentiment, looking out at the crowd to see not a dry eye in the house. “Well um, well that’s enough of us yapping at you guys, why don’t we turn it over to the people you’re actually here for, and then you can cry even more because these two idiots decided to write their own vows, so good luck.” 

Staring up at Javi, you could feel your heart begin to race wildly, your hands nearly trembling as you reached out towards Javi to take the little notebook where you had written down your vows, feeling a little more at ease as you saw that Javi’s hands were just as shaky as yours, the two of you overflowing with anxious anticipation. 

It had been no question to either of you that you had wanted to write your own vows to one another. While it seemed to be that everyone else you knew had seemed to avoid writing their own vows because they weren’t sure what to say, or that it was too hard to think of things, you and Javi seemed to find yourselves having the opposite problem, feeling like there was too much to fit in a few short minutes, and that your vows were going to end up being the length of a college lecture. 

There had been a part of you that had worried you would be nervous to read what you had to say to Javi in front of all your friends and family, but as you stood there, smiling up at his beautiful, handsome face, you couldn’t be more excited to share all of the things you had written to tell your husband just how much you loved him.  

But as the two of you stood face to face, your vows in each of your hands, your stomach dropped in shock, realizing that neither of you was making the first move to start talking. Because for all the planning and preparing that you had done for everything else, the both of you had completely forgotten to pick who was going to read their vows first. 

“We never picked who was gonna go first.” You whispered to Javi, your voice filling with nerves every second you stood in front of your guests, neither one of you saying anything. 

“Oh fuck, you’re right. What do you wanna do? Do you wanna go? Do you want me to go?” Javi asked, his face mirroring yours in surprise, now frantically looking back and forth between you, his vows, and all of your guests. 

You weren’t sure if it was the teacher in you, or the fact that you were so flustered that you couldn’t think of anything else, but before you knew it, you were tucking your vows under your arm, holding one hand out in front of you flat and the other in a fist, signifying to Javi that your best solution to your current predicament was playing rock, paper, scissors. 

“Best 2 out of 3?” You shrugged, grimacing at Javi as you tried not to burst into laughter, Javi shaking his head and snickering, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Do you wanna go after ‘rock’ or say ‘shoot’, then go?” Javi asked, loud enough for your guests to catch on to what was happening, giggles and laughter coming from the crowd. 

“What kind of psychopath doesn’t say ‘shoot’ first? Javier Peña, are you telling me that we need to call off this wedding right now because you don’t say ‘shoot’ before playing rock, paper, scissors? Because I will.” 

Everyone around you was now in full blown hysterics, including Javi, giving you the sassiest look he could muster through his laughter, holding his hands out to mirror yours. 

“So ‘for better or for worse’ doesn’t apply to rock, paper, scissors, apparently?” He teased, smirking at you with a subtle wink as he bit down on his lip. 

“Not if you’re gonna play like that it won’t.”  

“Pendejo.” 

“You love me.” 

“I really fucking do.” 

Giggling as you gestured at your outstretched fist, you began to countdown from your “rock, paper, scissors, adding an extra emphasis on ‘shoot’ as you held out rock and Javi held out scissors. With another laugh, the two of you started again, this time, you with paper and Javi with rock, smirking as you crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, the rest of your guests laughing right along with you. 

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner, Javier Peña. You’re stuck going second.” 

“Go for it, you dork.” 

As the laughter from the crowd settled, you opened your vows book, taking a deep breath as you stared up at Javi, who, despite your silliness, still had tears beginning to well in his puppy dog brown eyes before you could even say your first word. You took one last gulp of confidence, wondering how in the world you were supposed to make it through even a sentence through your speech without falling apart. 

“I never used to believe in fate. People would always tell me that ‘some things are just meant to be!’ or ‘it was just fate it happened like that!’ and no matter how hard I tried to believe, fate just never made sense to me. Well, that was until about a year ago, when fate decided to bump right into me when I least expected it.” You could feel your voice already beginning to shake, huffing in a quick sniffle before continuing on. 

“As fate may have it, I quite literally bumped into you when you were forced to come give a presentation to a group of rowdy 8 and 9 year olds. Thank god fate also was on my side that day- that I actually looked halfway presentable and wasn’t covered in spilled chocolate milk, glue, or the snot of whatever kid had sneezed a little too close to me that morning.” That one had the better part of the crowd letting out a laugh alongside Javi, easing your stress and tension about your speech while you carried on, reading the notes jotted in your booklet. 

“When I first came to Laredo, I wasn’t really quite sure what I was looking for. After my brother died and decided I needed to be as far away from Chicago as possible, there wasn’t ever really a doubt in my mind that here was the only place I really wanted to be. I spent the better half of my middle school and high school vacations here, visiting my best friend who had moved away. To me, Laredo was always a place that brought me such peace and comfort. I’m not really sure why, but there was always something about being here for those few weeks every year that made it feel like home, even when home was halfway across the country. But what I didn’t realize, was that in my attempt to find a new home for myself, I began to learn that home wasn’t a physical location, or a place you could travel to. After meeting you, Javier Peña, I found out that home was wherever I was with you.” 

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up from your vows to see sweet Javi, covering his mouth, as if he was trying to trap his tears to keep from completely breaking down at your words, his reaction only making you cry harder, trying your best to re-compose yourself before speaking again. 

“I spent so long wondering if I would ever find someone who would ever make me feel the way that you do- to love me for all of my flaws, to make me feel important, and even laugh at all of my stupid jokes that probably don’t deserve to be laughed at, but you love me enough to do it anyways. Now that’s true love.” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at Javi, making the two of you snicker between your tears. “You make me feel like the only person in the world whenever I’m with you. The only person who knows me better than I know myself. You are truly one of the most thoughtful and caring people that I have ever met. And while I could list off a million adjectives to describe all of the reasons I fell in love with you- smart, brave, determined, handsome- just to name a few, out of all of those reasons, the one that made me fall for you the most was your big heart. And while I know you’ll never believe me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to get you to see the same amazing man I fall more and more in love with every single day.”

At this point, there was not a dry eye in the crowd, watching how emotional you and Javi were as you tried to choke your way through the rest of your vows. 

“I will never know what I did to deserve you in my life, but promise that I will spend the rest of it letting you know how forever thankful I will always be that out of all the people in the world you could have chosen to bump into, that it was me. I am so excited that the rest of my life, all of the moments, big, small, and everything in between, will all be moments spent with you. That every moment will be spent with my best friend. I never would have thought that a little bit of fate would have become my forever, but I’ll always be so grateful that it is. I love you so much, Javier Peña. Thanks for being the reason I finally believe in fate.” 

Wiping away the wetness streaming down your cheeks, you could barely even look at Javi, who was an absolute blubbering mess, laughing through your tears almost to keep you from completely melting into a puddle. 

Reaching out to grab him, you took Javi’s hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly as you took your other hand up to wipe the tears streaming down his cheeks, the both of you smiling as you looked into each other's eyes.

“And that’s why I wanted to go first. Good luck.” You chuckled, making Javi shake his head as he laughed along with you, taking another deep breath before flipping open his own vows, wondering how in the world he was ever going to make it through speaking, considering how easily he had fallen apart just listening to you. 

“Jesus Christ, well I don’t know how I’m really supposed to follow that.” Javi sighed, the crowd giggling at his remark as he opened up to his first page, staring at his words for a moment before looking back up at you, his deep, chocolate, puppy dog eyes melting you just as quickly as the first time that you locked eyes with him. 

“I’ve uh- I’ve never really been great speeches. When I sat down to write this, I wasn’t really sure where to start. I had no idea how I was supposed to fit all of the things that I wanted to say into all of this.” Javi huffed with a little shrug, gesturing to his notebook. 

“So I um- I figured if there’s anywhere I should start, it should probably be at the beginning. My mom was an elementary school teacher, so growing up, I spent a lot of time at Alma Pierce Elementary School. I swear, I knew that place like the back of my hand. But um, after my mom got sick and passed away, I really never thought I’d ever have a reason to back. Until one day last year, I was told to pack up my stuff to go give a presentation at a local elementary school, which turned out to be none other than Alma Pierce. My mom always used to say “La vida es graciosa, no lo crees?” (Life is funny, isn’t it?), and I never quite understood why. But as I walked back into the place where I had spent so much of my life just out of chance, I swear I could hear her laughing at me, saying “Te lo dije.” (I told you so).” 

You could hear everyone who had had the privilege of knowing Lucia letting out a soft laugh, thinking of all of the times they must have heard her say that all too familiar phrase throughout their time knowing her. 

“I had gotten to a point in my life that I had kind of just accepted that maybe this kind of life wasn’t in the cards for me. I wasn’t gonna get married or have a family, and as much as it hurt, I had learned to be okay with it. The last thing I would have thought would have happened to me after leaving the presentation I had to give that day was that I was already head over heels in love with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life, but la vida es graciosa, no le crees?” 

Giving you a little smirk, Javi could help but let a smile slowly spread between his cheeks as he looked at you, gazing up at him in complete and utter adoration, your goofy grin mirroring his. 

“Never in a million years would I have thought that I would have been standing here today, getting married to you. If you would have told me that I got to marry the most beautiful, amazing, kind, and stubbornly independent woman on the face of this earth, I would have laughed in your face. I honestly still feel like I need to pinch myself to prove that this is even real. But I guess that even if this is all a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up. Being loved by you has changed me in a way that I will never be able to thank you enough for. Being loved by you has made me a better man than I ever believed that I could be. A better man than I ever thought I deserved to be. A man who has learned to love and believe in love in ways I didn’t think I was capable of. I will never be able to thank you enough for letting me into your life and loving me for who I am, and for wanting to spend the rest of it with me.” 

Now, it was your turn to morph into an inconsolable mess, reaching out to grab Javi’s hand again, silently reassuring him that you were equally as grateful for the fact that Javi had let you into his life, too. 

“And no matter how tough, or challenging, or funny life gets, I know it can never really be that bad, because I’ll always have you by my side through it all. I think my mamá would be so proud to know I finally understand what she was trying to say all those years about life being so funny. Because it seems like life has a funny way of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. Te amo, Osita. Gracias por ser mi todo. (I love you, Osita. Thank you for being my everything).” 

Without even thinking, you threw your arms around Javi’s shoulders wrapping him in a long, tight hug, sobbing into his jacket in a fit of happy tears, Javi hugging you right back, squeezing around your waist, gently cradling the back of your head in the warmth of your embrace. 

“Well shit… Alright, well I’m not sure if you guys are allowed to do that, but after those vows, I think we can let it slide.” David joked, trying to quickly wipe his eyes, nudging Charlie to do the same to try and pull themselves together to make sure they could finish out the rest of the ceremony. 

“Fuck, sorry.” Javi whispered, reluctantly pulling away from you, everyone in the crowd following your brothers’ suite, smiling as they brushed away the wetness welling in their own eyes from listening to your vows. 

“Well, I’d ask if anyone needs to object before we continue, but I think it’s pretty darn clear that these two idiots love each other more than life itself, so I’m just gonna skip that part.” Charlie joked, making you and Javi smirk in agreement. “Alright Miss Olivia, it’s your time to shine, do you have the rings?” He asked, your niece’s face lighting up in excitement as she nodded her head frantically, shooting up out of her seat to dash towards the two of you, carefully holding the ring box like a newborn baby bird in her hands. 

Daintily, she passed the box off to her dad before scampering over to both you and Javi, wrapping her arms around your waists to pull you close in a hug, smiling up at each of you with her toothy, goofy grin. 

“I love you Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi.” Olivia beamed, giggling in pure bliss and joy before skipping back to her seat among the guests, the both of your hearts bursting at the seams with the chores of “awhhhhs” coming from the crowd for your adorable niece. 

“Someone’s trying to get an extra slice of cake tonight huh, Miss Olivia?” David teased, your guests erupting with laughter at her not so innocent shrug to her Uncle’s question, knowing damn well she was just as much of a ham as you. “I trusted the six year old to carry these, can I trust you two not to drop them, or do you need to cry some more first?” 

“Oh shut up, David.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at your brother as you and Javi each took the rings to give one another, carefully holding the shiny gold bands in your hands, counting down the moments until you finally got to say “I do”. 

“Alright, ladies first, so I guess that means you, Cubby. You ready?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything, you dingus, get this show on the road.” 

“Alright, here goes nothin’. This is the part I actually had to practice, so God forbid I mess this one up huh? Do you,” David giggled, saying your real name instead of the nicknames you had lovingly bestowed upon you for as long as you could remember, “Take Javi to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” 

Carefully slipping the gold band onto Javi’s finger, you could feel your heart bursting in anticipation, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement, slowly pulling your hand away to let your brothers finish the second half of the exchange. 

“And do you, Javier Peña, take our sister,” Charlie and David snickered again, having to say your full name for a second time, “to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” 

Gently grabbing your palm and gliding the glistening ring onto your finger, Javi rubbed his thumb over the pair of bands nestled together, forever making a home on your hand, his eyes welling at the sight of the sign that you would always be his. 

Intertwining your fingers together and hands clasped in front of you, you and Javi were radiating with joy, anxiously staring back and forth between each other and your brothers for them to finally say those magic words you had been waiting to hear since the moment you had met all that time ago. 

“Well ladies and gentleman… by the power vested in us, the internet and the state of Texas, it’s our honor to introduce to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” Charlie grinned at you, trying not to burst into laughter at the near panicked look on your faces, not having heard the next set of words you were more than dying to hear. 

“Well go on, you lovebirds, kiss already!” David snickered, shrugging at the pair of you with a grin on his face. 

Before he could barely finish his sentence, Javi’s hands were cupping your face, palms cradling your jaw as he brought his mouth to yours, fireworks exploding in your stomach at the electric intensity of his kiss, so soft and tender, yet so desperate and needy, like it was the first time his lips had ever met yours, and that he never, ever wanted to let them go. 

Your hands shot up to grab his face too, a smile creeping across your mouth with your lips still pressed to his as Javi dipped you down, sliding his hand down the small of your back to hold you before pulling you back up, his lips still locked on yours like glue. 

In that moment, it seemed like time stood still, that nothing else in the world existed besides the two of you- nothing else mattered besides the fact that you were here, kissing the man that you loved more than anything in the world. 

The man that you finally got to call your husband. 

Over the cheers, whistling, and hollering from your friends and family, the both of you were finally snapped back to reality as David gave you a little nudge and a look that screamed “gross, save it for the honeymoon.” 

Reluctantly breaking from your kiss, you grabbed Javi’s hand in yours, holding your fists in the air and cheering in excitement right alongside your guests before heading back up the aisle, your cheeks hurting from how hard they were smiling. So lost in your excitement, you turned your head as you felt Javi stop, tugging you back to the middle of the aisle, smirking as he pulled you close to his chest, whispering in your ear. 

“Not so fast, Mrs. Peña. C’mere.” Grabbing your face and wrapping his arm around your waist, Javi was kissing you again, swinging you down in another dip that had you erupting in giggles and your guests cheering even louder, Javi’s smooth moves soliciting a loud “OW OW” most definitely from Steve. 

“God, I love you.” You smirked as Javi pulled you back up to stand before the two of you were nearly skipping down the rest of the aisle in bliss, racing to the back of the crowd where you had entered the ceremony, turning the corner behind the house where no one could see you, not even bothering to look over your shoulder to see who’d followed you before your lips were crashing into each others again. 

This one was nowhere near as tame as the kisses you had just shared moments ago- this kiss was a tangled mess of tongues and teeth, Javi’s hands creeping dangerously close to the curve of your ass as you tugged at the lapels of his suit jacket, your mouths moving in a messy dance as you whispered muffled and muted words between your kisses. 

“Fuck, my beautiful wife. God, I’m so fucking lucky. I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much too, Javi, I’m so-” 

“Jesus Christ, it’s been 30 seconds and y’all can’t keep your hands to yourselves? C’mon, now. Y’all gotta whole week and a half to do this without having to subject the rest of us to it, Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” Steve laughed, making the both of you gasp as he slapped Javi on the back, immediately making your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment and Javi groan in annoyance at his best man’s timely (or untimely) disruption. 

“Steve, c’mon like you didn’t have your hands all over me after we got married.” Connie sighed, now smacking the back of her own husband’s head, making him wince in pain. “Congratulations, you two. We’re so happy for you.” 

“Thanks, Connie.” You and Javi smiled, Javi still keeping his hand wrapped around your waist as the rest of your wedding party started making their way back up the aisle to greet you, too.

“Also having gotten married before, you’re gonna thank me later as I make you go find your brothers to sign your marriage license somewhere that has a little peace and quiet before you get none the rest of the night. Why don’t you guys head inside and I’ll cover for you for a little, okay?” 

“You’re the best, Connie, thanks.” Javi grinned, pulling you away towards the house, quietly sneaking in through the front door to wait for your brothers, Javi looking both ways around the seemingly empty house before pulling you close again. 

“Javi, Charlie and David are gonna be in here any minute, and they’re gonna give us just as much shit as Steve, if not more.” You giggled, gazing up into Javi’s eyes, still awestruck and giddy. 

“I know. Just one more kiss, mi esposa (my wife).” Javi smirked, tilting his head down to press his lips to yours, his thumb tracing soft circles on your cheek as the rest of his fingers cradled your jaw, tilting your eyes up towards him. “Fuck, you’re finally my wife. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.” 

“Good thing we have the rest of our lives to get used to it, huh?” 

People weren’t kidding when they said that your wedding would be a blur- From the moment the ceremony ended, it felt like everything was moving in fast and slow motion at the same time, being pulled in every direction to talk with family members, take pictures, and make sure that things were running smoothly. As much as you and Javi were both trying to soak in every moment of your special day together, it was safe to say the two of you were feeling a little overwhelmed by the time you had gotten to dinner, and couldn’t have been more thankful to have a moment to finally sit down. 

More importantly, you were so glad that you had gotten to the point where you had a drink, some delicious food in your stomach, and the best part of the night ahead of you- dancing. 

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon of the Peña ranch as dinner was coming to a close, the clanging of forks and knives against dinner plates slowly shifting to chatter and conversation that was filling the space of the white tent that had been propped up in the backyard for your reception. 

You weren’t really sure what to expect when you had decided on a backyard wedding, but with the absolutely stunning work your mom, Connie, sister in law, and Javi’s aunt’s had put together for you, they had made a white tent feel like something out of a fairytale. String lights and greenery were strung across above you, long tables decorated in candles and beautiful garlands of eucalypts, sprinkled white and pink roses from Lucia’s garden, along with cute, colorful vintage cups that the women had collected or thrifted for your guests to use. Everything about your setup felt magical, and with the sun sinking and fading into dusk, the glow and twinkles of the lights illuminating your space only made it feel that much more incredible. 

As the two of you sat at your head table, bellies full and hearts happy, feeling a little tipsy from the extra strong margaritas Javi’s cousin seemed to be making, you were a little worried as what looked like a more than just tipsy Steve approached you, slapping a stack of index cards in front of you. 

“Listen… I’m like the perfect level of drunk to give this best man speech. Any less drunk and I’ll be too fuckin’ nervous to do it, and any more drunk I’m not gonna be able to remember what I’m supposed to say. Y’all good to keep this movin’ so you can do your first dance and then we can get this party started?” 

“Jesus Christ, Murph…” Javi sighed, laughing at his friend, now sassily crossing his arms over his chest at Javi. “This speech better be good.” 

“It’s good, and Connie approved, so you know I won’t say any dumb shit. Well, not if we don’t start soon and I keep drinking more.” Steve paused, letting out a low burp, rubbing his stomach and grimacing at the two of you, snorting at him. 

“Take it away, Shakespeare.” You smiled, gesturing your arm out to the dance floor in front of the guests sitting at their tables, chatting away. You couldn’t help but laugh as Steve confidently made his way to the front of the crowd, Connie silently mouthing “I’m so sorry”  from across the room, pointing at her husband, now ready to take the stage. 

“Hey y’all,” Steve started, bellowing his voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, making them pause their chit chat and focus their attention on him. “I’m Steve Murphy. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Javi’s best man. Normally it’s customary for a guy like me to come up and say a few words about the bride and groom, so lucky for y’all, I’m your guy tonight. You’re welcome, Jav.” 

The crowd laughed as Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at Steve and shaking in his head in fear of what was to come, sliding your hand over to rest on his thigh, giving your now husband a little squeeze of reassurance to have some faith in his friend. 

“I have had the pleasure of knowing Javi for a long time now. It’s been, what, 17 years now, Jav?” Steve asked, turning back to look for confirmation. 

“It’s been too long.” Javi replied, shaking his head, his witty response only making your friends and family laugh more. 

“Whatever, you grumpy old bastard. Anyways, I first met Javi when I found out that I would be his partner down in Colombia working for the DEA. Not gonna lie, when I first met him, while I’ve never admitted this until now, I was pretty intimidated by the guy. He was cool, smart, respected, even though his jeans were way too fuckin’ tight.” Steve teased, winking at Javi, making you snicker from the few pictures you had seen from back in the day when Javi was in Colombia, knowing exactly what Steve meant. 

“I’ll spare you all the details of our time down there, but through all of our trials and tribulations, despite our differences and disagreements, the one thing I always admired about Javi is that he really cared about what he did. No matter what, he always cared about trying to do the right thing for the people he cared most about. Now, believe me, if you would have asked me all those years ago if I would have ever pictured Javi here today, gettin’ married, buildin’ a house and talkin’ about startin’ a family? Well shit, I prolly woulda told you that you were bat shit crazy. But, if there’s anyone in the world who deserves every ounce of all that domestic, lovely dovey bliss, it’s this man right here.” Steve smiled softly, pointing back to Javi who couldn’t help but let his heart fill with warmth at the sentiment from his friend, your hand rubbing up and down Javi’s leg, his grasping over yours to hold it tight. 

“Javi, I know you’ll never believe me when I tell you this, but I’m real proud of ya, man. And I hope you know how goddamn lucky you are that this beautiful woman has agreed to spend the rest of her life with your grumpy ass. Speaking of which…” Steve smirked, turing back to look at you with a goofy grin, making you raise an eyebrow at whatever stupid comment was bound to come out of his mouth. 

“Mrs. Peña. I never thought I’d live to see the day Javi was so in love. When he called me a few weeks after the two of you first met, and was all jazzed and excited to tell me about this beautiful girl he had started datin’ and how happy he was, I just about damn near fell down. He never said it on that phone call, but I knew that this sorry shit was absolutely head over heels in love with you.” 

That comment had you giggling at Javi’s blushing face, his cheeks turning pink at Steve’s story, even though he knew damn well it was the truth. 

“I couldn’t think of anyone who would be more perfect for Javi if I tried. When I first met you and saw how sickeningly cute y’all were together, God’s honest truth, my first question I asked Javi was when he was plannin’ on buyin’ a ring. Glad to see that sometimes he’ll take my advice. Sweetheart, I can’t thank you enough for being so good to my best friend right there. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have someone like you.” 

Grabbing your hand, Javi interlocked his fingers with your underneath the table, softly smiling at you and gently nodding his head in agreement. 

“I also need to thank you that he’s finally got someone else to worry about him instead of me. One less thing off my back. No offense, Jav. Alright, well, y’all have probably heard enough of me yappin’, and y’all are anything like me, you’re ready for more drinkin’ and dancin’. To Mr. and Mrs. Peña-” Steve paused, grabbing the nearest drink he could find and raising it up in the air, prompting the rest of your guests to do the same. “Wishin’ you two lovebirds a lifetime of happiness. I love you guys. Cheers!” 

Over the applause and cheerful shouting, Steve rushed his way back over to the two of you, slotting himself in between your seats so his head poked out between yours, wrapping his arms around both your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug. 

“Nice work, Murph.” Javi smiled, patting Steve on the back, laughing to himself at how genuinely thoughtful Steve’s speech had turned out to be. 

“Thanks, Steve. Your speech was really great. How much did Connie have to edit out?” You snickered, looking back between him and Javi. 

“... Let’s just say I left out the part about y’all horny bastards needin’ to be better about lockin’ your doors when other people are around.” Steve chuckled, shaking both of you in his grap, You and Javi’s eyes sheepishly darting to the ground in embarrassment. 

“Fuck off, Murph.” 

“Love you too, Jav.” 

With one last pat on the back for each of you, before you could say anything else, Steve was already halfway across the tent back to the bar to congratulate himself for getting through his speech without any major slip ups or major scoldings from Connie after he returned back to his table. 

“Thank God for Connie.” You grimaced, laughing at Javi whose face was buried in his palm, shaking his head at his friend, wondering why he would expect any less from him. “...He’s not wrong, though.” 

“I’m triple checking that I lock all the doors later so I don’t give him any more reasons to be right…” Javi sighed, giving you a little nudge while the hand that had been holding yours suddenly let go, resting on your thigh over your dress, giving it a long squeeze, making your heart race in anticipation, his eyes locking with yours, telling you everything you needed to know.  

Some way, some how, Javi was going to find a way to fuck you before the night was done. 

“Javi…” You whispered, heat creeping through your cheeks, trying your best to keep from blushing as you locked eyes with him, his devilish grin and lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes entrancing you in a way that had butterflies swirling in your core and ache rapidly beginning to grow between your legs. 

“Si, Mi esposa?” (Yes, my wife?), Javi smirked back, running his hand further up your thigh and closer to your core as his other hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing back and forth across your skin, toying just enough to tug at the corner of your lip. 

While you had gotten a little bit of alone time with Javi today, the way that the both of you had been absolutely insatiable for each other after seeing each other in your wedding attire, let alone the fact that you were now actually married? You and Javi were both dying to try and find a second to yourselves without interruption, especially from Steve. 

So caught up in awe of each other, you and Javi hadn’t even noticed your DJ, standing next to your table, quietly clearing his throat to try and get your attention. 

“Hey, uh- Mr. and Mrs. Peña?” He interjected, loud enough to finally snap you and Javi out of the horny stare down you had entered, “Are um- are you two ready for the first dance?” 

“Oh, um- yeah, y-yeah, sorry about that.” Javi grumbled, the two of you quickly trying to snap out of the thick heat of sexual tension that had been growing between you, both readjusting yourselves in your seats as you looked up sheepishly at the DJ,  “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“I asked if you two were ready to do your first dance? If you um, if you need some more time I can-” 

“No, we’re okay, thanks.” You grimaced, trying to keep from giggling and blushing as you looked over at Javi and then back at your DJ. “You ready to dance, Mr. Peña?” 

“Never been more ready, Mrs. Peña.” Javi replied, grabbing your hand as the two of you stood up, out of your seats walking to the edge of the dance floor while your DJ headed back to his booth. 

“Hello everyone! We’re going to get ready to start our first dance with the newlyweds, so if you could please direct your attention to the dance floor, we’re about to get started!” 

Before you could even take a step out onto the floor, the cheering and clinking of knives against glasses was erupting amongst the crowd, Javi happily taking the opportunity to grab you by the waist and pull you in for a long, deep kiss, making you giggle against his lips still pressed to yours as he dipped you down, before pulling you back against his chest. 

“Show off.” You snickered, raising an eyebrow at him as he finally pulled away from your kiss, staring down at you with a goofy grin. 

“Better get used to it, Mrs. Peña. I’ve got the whole rest of our lives to keep showing you off.” Javi smirked, shooting you a wink before tugging you out into the center of the dance floor, patiently waiting for your song to start as you draped one arm around his neck, Javi snaked his hand around your waist, and the pair of your other hands joined clasped at your side. 

It was then that the melodic violin entrance to “At Last” by Etta James began to play, Javi smiling down softly at your agreed upon choice for your first dance song after lots of debate and discussion the past few months. 

At last 

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

As the music began to play, you and Javi began to sway back and forth to the syrupy symphony of the song, your heart bursting and stomach filling with the same butterflies it had the first time you had met Javi all those months ago. 

“I’m glad we picked this one.” Javi smiled, the two of you circling your way around the dance floor, eyes locked on each other.  

“Me too. It always makes me think of making breakfast with you on the weekend and all the little moments I love with you.” You grinned back, letting go of Javi’s hand to drape both arms over his shoulder and around his neck. 

“It makes me think of spilling that entire bowl of pancake batter all over Bear and then having to chase him around the house to get him in the tub.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes as he laughed to himself, tightening his grip around your waist to pull you closer. 

I found a dream that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own 

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known 

“Me too. God, who would have thought that a year ago we’d be having our first dance at our wedding talking about spilling pancake batter all over our dog.” You giggled, leaning to rest your head against Javi’s chest. 

“I did.” 

Looking up at Javi, you could feel your cheeks warming, staring at his big brown eyes welling with tears, trying your best to now hold back the wetness pooling under your lashes. 

“Osita, I swear, from the moment I saw you smile at me, I knew that you were the only woman in the world I ever wanted. I knew you were the one I wanted my forever with. I’ll never get over the fact that I’m the luckiest man alive. I love you so fucking much.” Javi choked back, letting one of his hands slide up your face, gently cupping your cheek as he tilted his head in for a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away for another one on your forehead. 

You smiled, you smiled 

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in Heaven 

As the song began to slow, the sweet melody winding down to its close, Javi lifted up his arm to let you twirl beneath him before spinning you back into his chest and wrapping his arm around your waist to catch you as he dipped you down again, your mouths meeting in a long, tender kiss, electricity sparking between your lips and butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

For you are mine 

At last 

“I love you too, Javier Peña.” 

Over the applause of your guests, you could hear an obnoxiously loud “OW OW” from the crowd, coming from a now even more intoxicated Steve, making you and Javi laugh at his reaction, swiftly followed by Connie’s sharp jab to his ribs to get him to settle down. 

“Alright ladies and gents,” The DJ spoke over the rumble of voices at the dinner tables, “Let’s have one more big round of applause for our newlyweds!” 

As the crowd began to clap again, and Steve, threatened by another blow to his side, cheering at an appropriate volume, the DJ spoke again with the announcement you had been patiently waiting for since the ceremony finished. 

“Alright everyone, with our first dance done, it’s time for the best part of the night, the dance floor is officially open! Let’s party!” 

As the blaring intro to “Jump Around” began to blast to your speakers, your friends and family rushed to the dance floor, you let out a squeal of surprise as Javi snatched you up around your middle, lifting you up to spin you around in a fit of giggles. 

“Vamos a bilar, mi esposa.”  (Let’s dance, wife) 

The rest of the night was the best kind of celebration that you could have asked for- the joy of being surrounded by your friends and family, dancing the night away to your favorite songs, and drinking one too many margaritas with your husband was everything you could have asked for and more on your wedding night. 

It was no shock to you that your family had no problem making absolute fools of themselves out on the dance floor, happily (and drunkenly) flailing along to every single song, although your brothers’ and Steve’s enthusiastic sing-along to “Baby Got Back” was impressive, to say the least. 

And while you and Javi had expected your family to act a fool, what neither of you had expected was how excited Chucho was to bust out dance moves of his own, taking everyone by surprise as he joined all your co-workers and Javi’s co-workers (who had quickly become best friends on the dance floor), to shake his way through “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, leaving you in hysterics, and Javi in stunned embarrassment at his dad’s antics. 

As the evening began to creep later and later into the hours of the night, a very sleepy Olivia approached you and Javi on the dance floor, gently tugging at your dress and his pants for attention with puppy dog eyes plastered on her face that almost gave Javi’s a run for his money. 

“Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi, can I pick a song? Pleaseeeeeee?” Olivia begged, pouting her bottom lip at the two of you, absolutely melting your hearts in an instant. 

“Of course, mi amor.” Javi smiled, caving immediately as he crouched down to her level, her face lighting up in delight at her uncle’s response, coming close to whisper in his ear. 

If you couldn’t have already been more in love with your husband, watching him listen intently to what your niece had to say, nodding in agreement before scoping her up to rest on his hip, you were practically in a puddle now. 

“Me and Miss Olivia are gonna go make a song request.” 

“But Auntie Bear, you have to let me dance with Uncle Javi first, okay?” Olivia quickly added, very adamantly. 

“Of course, lil Miss. Have fun, you two.” You smirked as Javi and Olivia made their way over to the DJ, watching Olivia’s face light up instantly as the DJ agreed to her request, Javi carrying Olivia out to the middle of the dance floor and setting her down on the ground as the end of the song slowly began to fade into your niece’s song choice. 

With her love for the movie, you shouldn’t have been surprised at all that her pick was “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from the Lion King Soundtrack, but even though you weren’t shocked at her choice, there was nothing that going to be able to prepare you for the gut wrenching cuteness that was your now husband, dancing with your niece. 

It had already gotten to the point in the night that Javi’s suit jacket and tie were long gone, 3 buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and the once neat curls of his dark hair now messily sweeping his forehead from your night of dancing, and if the sight of just how goddamn handsome Javi looked, on top of the fact he was now officially your husband, paired with the sight of him slow dancing to the Lion King with Olivia? 

Your ovaries were just about shot to hell. 

As the song played and Javi and Oliva spun around the dance floor in a fit of smiles and giggles, you couldn’t help but wish with every bone in your body that it was your daughter that Javi was dancing with, nearly falling to your knees the thought of making him a dad, on top of being your husband. And if that wasn’t enough, the two of you were finally married, and that meant half of your bargain to start trying for kids was complete- and with the other half being your house finally finishing with construction which was almost close to being done as well, you were so close to start trying for a baby of your own, you could almost taste it. 

And that? That drove you crazy enough to feel like you were going to combust. 

So stuck in your daydream, you didn’t even notice Olivia running up to you, now tugging at your dress again, letting out a little sleepy yawn as she tried to get your attention. 

“Okay Auntie Bear, you can dance with Uncle Javi now. Thanks for letting me pick a song.” Olivia smiled as you sunk down to meet her, wrapping her in a hug. 

“Of course, Olivia. Thank you for being the best flower girl today. I love you, cutie patootie. Alright, I’m gonna go dance with Uncle Javi now, okay?” 

“I love you too, Auntie Bear. I think Uncle Javi misses you, he wouldn’t stop looking at you the whole time we were dancing. I think he wants to kiss you again, but that’s gross. Yuck.” Oliva grimaced, making you giggle as she stuck out her tongue before watching her scamper away back to her sisters and the Murphy girls to dance some more. 

As you turned back, bracing yourself to stand back up, you were greeted with Javi’s large palm held out in front of you, pulling you up to greet his handsome grin while you looked up at him. 

“I’ve been told I have permission to come dance with you now.” 

“It did take some persuading, I told her I’d save an extra piece of cake for her if she let me go dance with you.” Javi chuckled, pulling you back out onto the dance floor, slowly swaying back and forth to the beat. 

“Watching you two out there is dangerous.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi as he cocked his head in confusion. 

“What do you mean, hermosa?” 

“I mean,” You paused, standing up a little bit taller, throwing one arm over Javi’s shoulder, running your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck to whisper in his ear, “Watching the two of you made me think about how much I wanna make you a dad. And now that we’re married and the house is almost done, we actually get to start trying soon.” 

It took everything in Javi not to let out an audible moan, letting out a gulp and scrunching his eyes shut for a moment to try and maintain his composure at what you had just said to him, his grip around your waist immediately tightening and eyes darkening as he opened them, staring down at you, absolutely awestruck. 

“Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, almost shaking his head in disbelief that after all of the time you had spent talking about wanting kids and nights you’ve had wishing there hadn’t been any birth control to keep you from having them were now an almost tangible reality, “Is that what you want, mi esposa? My wife wants me to give her a baby?” 

Javi’s voice rasped in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, your stomach flipping in arousal at the hot breath of his words against your skin, knowing what had started as a sweet and simple moment of Javi dancing with Olivia had quickly shifted into a desperate want, no, need, for him to give you what you were asking for. 

As the music slowly faded into the next song, bodies shuffling and dancing to the more upbeat tune that had followed Olivia’s choice, the both of your figures stood frozen on the dance floor in a silent exchange of racing hearts and yearning glances before Javi took your hand in his. 

“Follow me.” 

In an instant, Javi was tugging you across the dance floor, the two of you dodging and weaving your way through your guests with polite smiles and happy waves, doing everything you could to try and sneak away as discreetly as possible in hopes that everyone would be too preoccupied (or too drunk) to realize that you were gone. 

But at this point, you really didn’t care whether anyone noticed if you were gone or not. Truth be told, the only thing you cared about was finally getting to fuck your husband. 

Finally making it through the worst of the maze of people, you and Javi had made your way to the back porch, quietly peeking your heads through the door, checking to make sure the coast was clear before hastily slipping inside, gently shutting the door behind you before sneaking down the hall to Javi’s room, thanking whatever higher power had let the two of you get to his bedroom in peace. 

From the moment Javi had shut the door behind him, you were all over each other in an instant, hands roaming across each other’s bodies as you stumbled until the back of your legs hit the mattress, flopping down onto the bed, Javi’s body caging yours in his frame. Your lips crashed together in a hungry clash, tongues, teeth and moans melting together between your mouths as Javi hiked up the skirt of your dress, running his hands along your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh in his firm grasp before his fingers crept towards your aching core, ghosting over the white, lacy fabric covering your cunt, already soaking with arousal. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, hermosa. My wife’s pretty little pussy all wet for me, huh?” Javi rasped, the pads of his fingers pressing more pressure over your covered clit, making you whimper in delight. 

“It’s all yours, Javi. Yours forever, baby.” You moaned, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s fingers dipped under the waistband of your underwear, collecting the slick pooling around your folds before plunging his two fingers inside your heat and thumbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, pure bliss running through your veins at his touch. 

Your response had Javi practically growling, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he looked down to see the golden and diamond bands glistening on your finger, awestruck at the beautifully blissed out mess you were already becoming as his fingers curled, prodding at the spongy spot inside you that he knew drove you wild. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, Osita. My beautiful wife. Fuck- I can’t believe your mine. I love you so fucking much.” Javi groaned, his words muffled between the hot, wet kisses he kept planting on your lips, feeling your cunt beginning to clench around his digits. 

“I l-love- fuck- I love you too, Javi.” You whimpered, the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine beginning to build as Javi’s fingers pulsed in and out of your heat and thumb circled your throbbing clit, knowing with how worked up you were and how good he felt, it wouldn’t take much more before you were coming undone around his hand. 

“I know you’re close, baby. Let go, hermosa. Cum for me so I can fuck my wife and show her how much I love her.” 

“F-Fuckfuckfuck Javi. Don’t stop, baby, don’t s-sto-ahhhhhhhhh.” 

With his thumb circling faster and harder around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and fingers plunging in and out of your weeping hole, it wasn’t long before you could feel that all too familiar tingle spreading throughout your body, your orgasm flooding through every inch of you as you came around his fingers, soaking his hand. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. My good wife.” Javi groaned, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers from your dripping heat, admiring the slick and shiny mess you had made around his fingers, entranced by the way your arousal had coated his wedding band as he brought his hand to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean before beginning to work at his belt. “You taste so fucking sweet, baby.” 

You sat back up, looking over your heaving chest to see Javi shuffling his pants and boxers down his thighs, leaving them to pool around his ankles, revealing his cock, already so painfully hard and weeping with precum from his tip. Reaching down to run his fingers through your folds again, he collected your slick on his hand before rubbing it up and down his length, stroking himself to line up with your entrance. 

“F-fuck, let me feel you baby, p-please.” You whined, reaching up to grab fistfuls of Javi’s shirt, tugging him down to kiss you and lay his body on top of yours. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi moaned, slowly filling you up with his cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out against your cervix, letting you adjust to the fullness as he relished in the wet and warmth of your pussy gripping around him like a vice. 

“M-move, Javi, please, baby.” The sweet sting and stretch of Javi’s length inside you already wanting to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

Javi began to languidly thrust himself in and out of your heat, dragging his cock almost painfully slowly against your velvety walls, cursing under his breath at the feeling of his balls beginning to tighten in his stomach, knowing there was no way he was going to be able to last as long as he would have wanted to in the moment. 

“Javiiiii” You whined, your arms wrapping around back, nails pressing into his shoulders as his cock hit the spot inside you that lit you ablaze. His hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to rub your clit, still slow, taking his time with each graze of his fingertips as his pace held deep and steady. Every thrust in and out of his hips had you wrecked as he filled you so fully and intensely, moaning his name over and over while he grasped the meat of your thighs, pressing your knees against your chest to stretch you open even further.  

“God you’re so beautiful. My beautiful fucking wife. Gonna be such a beautiful mom for our kids.” Javi grunted, this thrusts becoming faster and sloppier as he let the reality of his marriage and actual attempts to start trying for a family burn a hole in the forefront of his mind, igniting something even feral within him, knowing he was one step closer to finally giving you and him what you both wanted more than anything. 

For Javi to get you pregnant.

The last sentence made your breath hitch in the back of your throat, whimpering at the notion that because you were finally married, there wasn’t much stopping you from tossing out your birth control tomorrow and trying to get pregnant by the end of the month. 

“J-Javi-” You whined, trying to form any sort of coherent thought as your brain short circuited from the pure bliss and heart racing thoughts running through your brain. 

“What, Osita?”  

“I-I want you- oh shit- to fuck a baby into me, Javi. I wanna throw out the rest of my birth control- I don’t care if the house- Jesus- isn’t finished. I wanna stop taking it tomorrow. I w-want you to- fuck- fill me up and get me pregnant.” 

You could practically feel the weight of Javi’s jaw dropping to the floor, eyes bulging out of his skull, and heart beating out of his chest, so shocked, he stopped himself mid thrust, just to make sure he had heard you correctly. 

“Osita- baby, are you- holy fuck- baby, are you serious?” 

You nodded your head frantically, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him in for an electric kiss before leaning back to whisper in his ear, your voice sultry and low. 

“I need my husband to fuck a baby into me. Please. Fuck a baby into me, Javi.” 

If Javi didn’t have his arms already braced on the bed, there’s no way in hell he wouldn’t have fallen over in pure delight at your request, his stomach now churning with the wildest mix of excitement, lust and pride, spreading up through his chest and across his face, the brown of his eyes darkening and awestruck smile widening. 

“You want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked, almost rhetorically, a devilish grin spreading between his cheeks as he began to pound into you again, not even giving you a chance to respond, knowing damn well what your answer was.  

If his thrusts weren’t already frantically rushed and sloppy, they most definitely were now, Javi practically on the brink of his own high just from the thought of getting to fuck you, knowing there was a real, true chance of getting you pregnant, trying to fight with everything in him to keep from busting right then, needing to make sure that you came again before he did. 

The lewd noises of your moans, wetness of Javi’s cock sliding in and out of you, and his hips snapping against yours coated the walls of the room, the both of you having no regard for anyone who may have been close enough to hear you, so caught up in the moment, that at this point, you couldn’t have cared less if anyone caught the both of you. 

“Answer me, baby. Mierda- You want me to fuck a baby into you, huh? Want me to fucking fill you up and get you pregnant? Show everyone you’re mine with our baby growing inside you?” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, pounding into your g-spot with blinding force, frantically circling your clit as he felt your cunt begin to clench tighter and tighter around his cock, knowing you just needed a little bit more before he had you coming undone. 

“Y-yes- fuckfuckfuck- I need you to, Javi, p-please baby, please, please, pleaaahhhhhhh-” 

Just like that, you could feel yourself gushing around Javi’s cock as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, crashing through every inch of your body, euphoria flooding through your veins, screaming his name while he fucked you through your high, desperately chasing his own. 

“I’ll give it to you baby, I- fuck me- I’ll give you everything you want. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I’ll give you a family, I’ll give you my heart, my soul, my everything, my- oh fuck!” 

Javi’s hips stuttered, forcing a low groan to rumble in his throat as he came, the hot ropes of his spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop inside you, still pulsing and thrusting inside you, ensuring that nothing went to waste. 

Slumping his body on top of yours, your chests rose and fell in sync, trying your best to catch your breaths as you came down from your highs, your mouths meeting in a sloppy kiss to try and ground  you back to reality. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered through your labored pants, laughing to yourself from the pure bliss of what had just happened, staring up at Javi with a radiant grin, brushing the sweat-dampened curls from his forehead. 

Javi hissed as he carefully pulled out, leaning back enough to see the smile on your face, gently cupping your cheek as he looked down at you with a goofy grin of his own. 

“Osita… Were you being- baby, were you serious about what you said?” 

“Jav, I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious about anything in my entire life. Is-is that okay with you?” You asked, biting down on your lip. 

“Is that okay with me?” He asked, almost mockingly, chucking to himself as he shook his head in disbelief, “We can really throw it away tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” 

“And you won’t bring it with you on the honeymoon?” 

“Nope.” You replied, popping the “p” at the end of the word. 

“And there’s- holy fuck- there’s a chance you could actually get pregnant soon?” Javi asked, his face glowing brighter and brighter with each question he asked. 

“Mmmhhmmm. Well, I mean, it might not happen right away but- Ahhhh Javi!” You giggled as your husband aggressively peppered ticklish kisses across your entire face, making you squeal and squirm in delight. 

“Fuck, I love you so much. Thank you.” Javi smiled, tears welling in his eyes as he looked down at you. 

“Jav, baby, don’t cry! Why are you crying, you dork?” 

“You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted. You married me, we’re gonna have a family, it’s just- fuck, I promise, that I wanna spend the rest of my life until the day I die showing you how thankful I am that you chose me. That you gave me all the things I stopped thinking I deserved. I love you so much, it fucking hurts, Osita. Thank you for choosing me.” 

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Javi, pulling him close to you in the tightest hug you could muster, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the weight of his body melt into yours, your bodies intertangled as one. 

“Javi, you’re the only one it ever could be. Te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar. (I love you more than words can say).” 

“Hey! Lovebirds! Are y’all in here?” 

Over the music and chatter of the party outside, you and Javi had been completely oblivious to the all too familiar southern twang of Steve’s voice behind the bedroom door, gently knocking from the outside after being sent on a mission to find where in the world the two of you had been for nearly a half hour. 

“Hello? Mr. and Mrs. Peña?” Steve rapped again, getting nothing in response but silence. Steve shrugged, drunk enough to have no fear to pound on the door repeatedly until the two of you showed up, now reaching down at the doorknob and giving it a jiggle. 

Steve was shocked to find that he could turn the handle, writing off the fact that they two of you would be in a room with an unlocked door after the 10 pounds of shit he had given Javi, and with his inhibitions severely lowered, he had  no problem cranking the knob and pushing the bedroom door wide open. 

“Hello? Earth to Javi and Mrs. Peña, are y’all in here or not because I- Oh Jesus Christ!” Steve shrieked, opening up the door to see you and Javi, your dress still hoisted up to your waist, and Javi’s bare ass completely on display, making the both of you scream just as loud in surprise at your unwanted visitor. 

“Murphy! Get the fuck out!” Javi snarled, quickly scrambling to try and pull your dress back down and his pants back up. 

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ!” Steve yelled, immediately bringing his hand to his face to cover up his eyes, trying to drunkenly stumble as quickly as he could back out of the room, but, because of his intoxicated state and self-imposed lack of vision, Steve found himself colliding head first with the wall, knocking himself to the ground before crawling across the floor like a frazzled toddler, kicking the door closed behind him. 

For as devastatingly embarrassed as you were by the whole debacle, you couldn’t help but cackle at the impeccable comedic timing of the whole thing, snickering to yourself as Javi finished buckling back up his pants and helping you up to stand before storming to the door, opening it to find Steve still sprawled on the floor in an a hysteric fit. 

“Are you fucking serious, Murph?” Javi growled, completely unamused. 

“God, I shoulda kept my bit that Connie cut in my speech. Y’all do know that doors have locks, right? Might be helpful if y’all learned how to use ‘em. Just food for thought.” Steve giggled, watching both of your faces grow beet red in embarrassment and at a loss for words. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Javi asked, pinching the arch of his nose between his fingers, shaking his head in frustration, looking down the hallway to make sure that Steve was the only presence you needed to worry about. 

“I’m tryin’ to save your asses before someone else worse than me walks in on the two of you gettin’ it on. Y’all do realize you’ve been gone for almost 45 minutes right? Being the- oh shit-” Steve paused, letting out a giant burp,” ‘cuse me, being the good Best Man I am, I decided to try and find you two idiots before people started askin’ too many questions. So, you’re welcome.” Steve grunted, pushing himself up to stand, cocking his head at the both of, hands on his hips, trying to prove his point. “Also, do you two anything else besides fuc-” 

“Steve! Jesus Christ, will you shut the fuck up!” Javi groaned, staring down at the floor, taking a deep breath to compose himself before he decided to kick Steve right back down to the ground again. 

“...It’s really been 45 minutes?” You grimaced, looking back between Steve and Javi, shrugging at your husband that any longer, your mom would have been on a search party for you, and it would have been your whole family at Javi’s bedroom door instead of just Steve. 

“Yeah, and I’m the first to come lookin’ after ya, so again, you’re welcome. Jesus, Javi, you can really last for 45 fuckin minutes? How the-” 

“Murphy!” 

“Sorry…” 

“Fuck me….” 

“Think you and your wife already took care of that one…” Steve muttered under his breath, trying not to laugh.

“I swear to God, Steve…” 

“Okay, I’m done! I’m done! Swear!” Steve held up his hands in defense, taking a step back away from Javi.   

“Will you please just give us a minute, Murph?” Javi sighed, running his hand through his hair, trying with every bone in his body to keep his patience with his drunken friend. 

“Fine, fine, fine. 1 minute. I’m counting. Use your time wisely and appropriately, you sickos.” Steve snickered, disappearing down the hallway, only to peek his head back out around the corner. “And Jav?”

“What, Murph?” 

“Your fly’s undone.”

As you and Javi sheepishly made your way back out to the backyard, you couldn't have been more relieved to see that at this point, anyone still left at your reception was far too drunk to care that you had been missing, seeing that almost all of your guests were out on the dance floor, partying away without a care in the world, or any inkling of what you and Javi had been up to. 

“Longer than a minute, but beggars can’t be choosers I guess.” Steve chuckled, creeping up behind you with two drinks in hand, passing them both off to you and Javi. “Here. Figured I owe ya a drink. These are on me.” 

“We paid for the bar, Murph.” 

“Alright, well I guess these ones are on you, Grumpy Pants.”  Steve grumbled mockingly, holding up his hands in defense, trying not to stumble over his own two feet as he made his way back to the dance floor. 

“Remind me again why I picked him to be my best man?” Javi laughed, taking a sip of his drink, the both of you snickering as you watched Steve whip out some questionable dance moves to “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen blaring in the background and Connie shake her head at her husband. 

“Because you love him. Don’t get me wrong, he’s an idiot, but he’s a good guy.” You smiled, giving Javi a little nudge, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the dance floor. “Hey-” You paused, holding up your glass and raising it to Javi’s. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers to what, Osita?” Javi asked, wrapping his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he brought his glass next to yours. 

“Cheers to us. I love you so much, Javier Peña, it makes me sick. Sicker than all this tequila is gonna make me tomorrow after I keep drinking it the rest of the night.” 

The two of you snorted, goofily clinking your glasses and taking a hefty sip of your drinks as you looked out on the dance floor, your hearts overflowing with love and joy to know that you were surrounded by all of the people in the world you cared about most, even the ones that couldn’t be physically with you, to celebrate the biggest day of your life and the start of your new forever. 

“Cheers, Hermosa. I love you so goddamn much. Maybe the hangover will help distract the nerves on the flight tomorrow.” Javi smirked, taking another sip of his drink as he shook you playfully in his grasp, your faces both lighting up as you remembered that tomorrow, you be in the Bahamas for the next 10 days, where the only thing you needed to worry about was where you wanted to lay on the beach, what drink you wanted in your hand, and now, seeing how quickly Javi could get you pregnant. 

“Oh shut up.” You sighed, giving Javi a little slap to the chest before taking another sip of your drink, looking up at Javi with heavy lashes, batting your eyes at him. “You just have to remind me that I have to do some unpacking before we leave tomorrow.” 

“Unpacking?” Javi asked, tilting his head in confusion at you, the gears in his brain turning as you bit down on your lip, raising your eyebrow at him, waiting for him to piece together your clue. “Oh. Oh.” 

Javi’s eyes went wide as he remembered what you meant, heart racing in anticipation, never imagining before today that he would have been so excited to actively throw away birth control to try and have a kid.

“Can we throw it away tonight?” Javi pleaded, his puppy dog eyes in full effect. 

“I’m not sure what difference tonight and tomorrow morning is gonna make, but sure. Happy wedding present.” You giggled, pressing up onto your tiptoes to plant a long, hot kiss. 

“Best fucking gift I could ask for besides the fact I finally get to call you my wife.” 

As the end of the song slowly faded out, “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” began to play next in the background, your face lighting up in excitement and Javi’s eyes rolling, hearing the song that had been most likely the biggest controversy of your entire wedding planning process now bumping through the speakers, followed by the cheers and hollers of your guests. 

“I told you people would want to hear this song.” You said smugly, crossing your arms over your chest, popping your hip at Javi as you sassed him, making him shake his head at your theatrics. 

“It doesn’t stop it from being a stupidly annoying song.” 

“A stupidly annoying song that people love. A stupidly annoying song that your wife loves.” You teased. “Whaddya say, Peña, can you stand this unbearably stupid song to go dance with me? 

“I’d dance to this song with you a million times if it means I get to dance with you.” 

Grabbing Javi by the hand, you tugged him out to the dance floor in a fit of giggles and smiles, jumping along and dancing to the beat song after song the rest of the night with your friends, family and husband. 

You couldn't help but catch yourself stopping now and again to smile to yourself to take everything in, feeling like you needed to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really real. Just over a year ago, your life felt like it had hit an all time low. You had moved halfway across the country to try and run from your pain, desperate to find any way to bring yourself any ounce of peace in your ocean of hurt. It felt like fate had forsaken you for the worst, kicking you while you were down, and leaving destruction in its wake. 

But never in a million years would you have believed that fate would have sent you with a one way ticket to Laredo, Texas, and that trip would bring so much more than just the glimmer of hope you longed for. It had brought you peace, comfort, the acceptance you weren’t sure you would have ever allowed yourself to feel. Laredo had brought you everything you never expected, and all of the things you never thought you deserved. 

It brought you Javi- the man who single handedly changed your life for the better, loving you unconditionally for every part of your being and piecing back together the parts of your heart you had left broken.

It brought you the man you now got to call your husband. 

Fate and life have funny ways of working together to bring you the things you need the most when you least expect them. And today, as you got to marry the love of your life and your very best friend, you knew you’d be forever thankful that fate stepped in when you needed it most. 

La vida es graciosa, no lo crees? (Life is funny, isn’t it?)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @amyispxnk @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congrats on 700!! 🎊 May I request green with hummingbird? I would love some feral zoro omg 😫.

(I didn’t know what else to say I hope this is enough for the request 😭)

Thank you in advance and I understand if you can’t get to my request!! ☺️

Hi friend! Thank you for requesting this because I haven't written Zoro in a billion years and this was fun!

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Female Reader

Trope/Prompt: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac

Summary: Zoro steals a very secret bottle from Sanji’s stash… much to his dismay it has unwanted affects. Fortunately for you, you're up looking for a midnight snack when you encounter a very feral Zoro in the kitchen.

WC: 2000

TWs: alcohol consuption, aphrodisiac, unprotected sex (dont!) cream pies, p in v sex, a smidge of oral to get things going, doggy style bent over the counter, breeding!!!! MINORS NDI

Just This Once (+18)

— — 

Night watch was boring. Zoro would much rather be focusing on his training or napping than having to sit and stare out at the black of night for hours. He found the silence peaceful, so used to having the cacophony of his crew mates and captain resounding all around him during the day, Zoro didn’t mind the quiet of night watch. 

Tonight however, sitting against the mast of the Sunny, Zoro found his sake bottle feeling quite light. He cranes his head back and shakes the last droplets of alcohol onto his waiting tongue. It was barely anything, the bottle was bone dry now. 

“Well shit.” Zoro remarks to himself. He sighs and sets the empty bottle on the wooden deck beside him. He hoists himself up to his feet and begins to walk towards the galley, hoping that the shitty cook had hauled his lanky ass off to bed by now so he wouldn’t have to see his ugly mug. 

Thankfully the kitchen was empty and Zoro strolled straight towards the liquor cabinet. He pulls the double doors to the small wooden pantry open and surveys the array of bottles. Looking for his trusty sake, he clinks the other bottles together as he shuffles the booze around. He sees a bottle towards the back of the shelf with a note on it. 

“What’s this?” Zoro cocks his head and squints his eyes (eye?). He sees a slender, purple bottle, a bit taller and slimmer than a normal wine bottle, with a pink label wrapping around the width of it. His attention goes back to the note stuck to it. Zoro grabs the bottle and brings it out from the back of the shelf and raises it to meet his gaze. 

‘SANJI’S ONLY!!! DO NOT TOUCH!!’ is what the note read. 

“Pfffttt yeah right.” Zoro huffs and rips the note off the bottle. He notices something is written on the back of the paper. He flips it over completely. 

‘ESPECIALLY IDIOT MOSS HEAD!!!’ Is on the back of the note in bold handwriting. 

Zoro rolls his eyes. 

“Oh fuck you.” Zoro crumples the note and tosses it over his shoulder. He noticed the bottle was a bit feminine, with the pink label and ‘XXX’ being written in swirly letters across it. “Makes sense for that fucking weirdo.” Zoro chuckles as he opens his jaw, fits the cork between his molars and pulls it off the bottle with a loud *pop*. He spits the cork to the floor. 

Zoro takes a big swig from the bottle. It was bubbly and fruity, the type of shit Nami was usually into. Zoro hums. It wasn’t what he was used to drinking by any means, but at this point he just wanted to piss off Sanji so he chose to bring the bottle out with him to the deck to continue his watch. He was determined to finish it and leave the empty bottle on the kitchen counter for the stupid pervert to find in the morning. Maybe he would write his own scathing note to go with it. Zoro chuckled to himself… he had time to think about what to write. 

Zoro settled himself against the mast again, legs spread out in front of him, bottle clutched in his left hand while he rested his right on his swords. He lets out a long sigh and gazed up at the  cloudless, starry night as he chugs more from the bottle of forbidden booze. 

Over 30 minutes go by and half the bottle before Zoro notices a strange tingling in his thighs. He runs his callused hands over his strong quads, trying to massage away the feeling. He chalked it up to the booze and the rigorous weight lifting session he participated in earlier. 

“Damn this shit’s strong…” Zoro remarks as he pulls the bottle back from his mouth to look at the label again, searching for any indication of an alcohol percentage. He sees nothing but the three red X’s adorning the pink paper label. “Weird… whatever.” Zoro throws back another few gulps. 

Soon the bottle was empty. Zoro casts it aside with his empty sake bottle from earlier in the night. His head was sufficiently fuzzy and the warm prickling in his thighs had spread from his legs up through his groin and into his chest. 

“The fuck is in this shit…” Zoro wipes sweat that formed on his brow with the long sleeve of his robe. He felt hot all over, and not the usual warmth he felt from his average daily drinking… this was different. His muscles felt tight and so did his pants.

He runs his hand over his crotch to find himself painfully hard. He was a grown man for fucks sake, he thought he had his fill of random erections. This one was particularly turgid, aching against his pants begging to be freed. 

Annoyed with his body betraying him, Zoro peeks behind him over each shoulder on each side of the mast, making sure the coast was clear before unbuttoning his pants and fishing out his throbbing cock. He gently knocks his head back against the mast and closes his eyes before stroking himself quickly. He wanted to rid himself of this feeling and return to his quiet evening. 

“Shit…” 

It seemed to be more easily said than done. He couldn’t finish. He spat in his palm and sped up his pace but it was worthless, there was no familiar signs of impending release. His skin was burning hotter and his cock leaking pre all down his thick shaft. 

“Fuck…” Zoro, flustered, shoved his dick back in his pants and stood up, not bothering to button his pants back up all the way. He made his way to the kitchen, panting a bit, feeling the need to splash some water on his face to try and snap out of it. He whips the galley door open…

—

“Ah!” You yelp, jumping a bit and turning towards the kitchen door. 

“Y/n!” Zoro shouts at you, startled as well. “What the hell are you doing here, woman?!” 

“I-I couldn’t sleep! I wanted some peanut butter!” You hold up the jar in one hand and spoon in the other as you stand against the sink. You notice Zoro’s unbuttoned pants and heavy breathing. “You okay, big guy?” You furrow your brow in concern. 

“I’m fine…” Zoro huffs out as he approaches you at the sink. “You need to get out of here.”

“Okay rude?” You cock your head and turn back towards the sink to wash off your spoon, not wanting to leave any dishes for Sanji. 

Zoro is behind you in an instant. You feel his pelvis press against your ass, covered in just some boy short panties since you had been trying to go to bed. 

Zoro ruts his crotch against you, massive hands gripping your hips to pull you closer to him. 

“W-woah! Zoro what the hell has gotten into you?” You gasp out and try to straighten your body back out. 

Zoro doesn’t let you move your ass away from him, though, he just grips your hips harder and grinds his noticeable hard-on into the soft flesh of your butt. He pushes his face through your messy hair and starts to sink his teeth into your neck. You jolt in his hold.

“I-I don’t know… I drank that stupid fucking cook’s wine and now I-…” Zoro bites you again and you yelp. “Now I need to get my dick wet or I’ll explode… you gonna help?” Zoro slides one of his hands up your baggy t-shirt and harshly twists your nipple. 

“Shit!” You gasp out as Zoro dry humps your backside and teases your breasts. “Fine! Just this once, and you owe me!” 

Zoro growls like an animal and rips your panties down your legs and then pushes his robe off his shoulders. You lift your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor. Zoro pulls his aching cock out of his pants with ease since his pants were already undone. 

Zoro immediately drops into a squat and pushes one of your legs up to rest on the edge of the sink so your glistening sex was exposed to him. 

Zoro smirks to himself before dragging his tongue from your clit all the way back up to your asshole. 

“Fuck-“ Supporting yourself on one leg made your knee buckle, but Zoro’s strong hands kept you upright leaning forward onto the kitchen counter. Zoro hummed in bliss at the sweet taste of your pussy, laving his tongue all over your folds with drool pooling at the corners of his mouth, making you extra messy.  

“Can’t wait any longer, need to be inside you…” Zoro says hungrily as he stands up and positions his dripping cock at your wet hole. He pushes himself in you quickly and lets out a loud groan. You arch your back and cry out at the sudden stretch, one elbow holding you up on the counter and you reach the other hand back to claw at your green haired lover. 

“You’re gonna have to take it for me, okay doll? I know you can do it…” Zoro tries to sound sweet but the bruising grip on your hips give away his urgency. He begins to thrust hard against your backside, creating lewd wet slaps that echoed around the dimly lit kitchen. “Such a tight little pussy, shit…” Zoro slams into you at a breakneck pace. 

“Oh- my- god-! Zo-ro!” Your body is being pulled and rammed with each unforgiving thrust, you hardly even notice yourself approaching an orgasm embarrassingly quickly. You hadn’t laid with anyone in so long and the way Zoro was abusing your body turned you on immensely. He pulled your hair with one fist and it was over for you. “Zoro! Fuck! Cumming!” You shout and you collapse against the counter, cool tile harsh against your nipples.

You shake all over and your knees fully give out, luckily Zoro’s strong body was propping you up against the counter as he took you. 

“There it is, cream my cock, doll.” Zoro picks up his pace, which at this point you thought was impossible. “I’m gonna breed this little cunt, and you’re gonna take it… gonna take my fucking kids...” 

“Z-zoro what the fuck?” You were fucked-out but you didn’t know Zoro as the kind of man to talk like that. 

“Gonna fill you so fucking good… make you mine…” Zoro pulls your hips completely flush to his as his chest collapses on top of your back. You feel his hot breath on your shoulder blade and his strong, powerful ropes of cum coat your insides. 

Zoro groans and nuzzles his nose into your spine before pulling his softening cock out of your leaking hole. He admires his handiwork and smirks. 

“Uh… sorry about that… you’re…?” Zoro scratches his neck and hands you your shirt from the floor. 

“On birth control? Yes, you animal. Warn me next time you decide to drink Sanji’s weird wine, okay?” You say as you pull your shirt over your head. You shoot Zoro a glare.

“I don’t know, that might have been worth it.” Zoro gives you a sly smile and ties his robe back on. 

You roll your eyes and playfully push Zoro’s shoulder as you walk past him to head back to bed. You should have no problem falling asleep now that you’ve been freshly fucked in the kitchen by your crew mate. 

“You coming to bed, swordsman?” You holler on your way out of the galley door. 

“Yeah, meet you in your room.” Zoro calls after you. He finds the discarded empty wine bottle and places it right in the middle of the kitchen island next to Sanji’s cigarettes and ash tray. Zoro looks to the floor and sees your panties. He grabs them and places them next to the bottle on the counter. He then picks up a piece of paper and pen. Zoro scribbles out a short note to stick on the bottle. 

‘Thanks, Curly ;)’

— — 

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 9 | stanley pines x f!reader 

Summary: stanley has a restless night in April, and comes to a (not) shocking realization. a continuation of year 5, particularly concerning dreams

warnings (TW): swearing, slight-panic, some suggestive content

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, action, affection

notes: short but purposeful part pls listen to meeeee // side note so sorry everyone me is going thru v big girl problems w jobs and moving so apologies for the shortness but i did almost put just as much time into it as usual (typical im a perfectionist till i die) but ya again thanks for the love, support, the comments, like omg did i ever think id actually be kinda cool online? No i never thought that. All the follows?? The messages?? Like yall are too kind omgggg <333 much love to everyone though!!! Hope you enjoy, and again if you’d like to be tagged just comment :) 

word count: 3.8k

| masterlist | 

April, 1987

He had moved his clothes into her dresser drawers come February. 

Actually she did, while he slept in her clean sheets and tucked into her nest of blankets. He had quickly fallen ill after he turned from blue to red in their bathtub that late January day. Despite this, he did not stop shivering for a solid two days, during which his Doc’ rushed to and from his bedside with new washcloths for his burning foggy head and with soup to flush out the heat of his body. 

Well, it was actually her bedside. 

His Doc’ made quite the Doc’ though. He remembers flashes of being sick as a child, of having his mother creep in through his childhood room’s doorway to brush her long fingers across his forehead. She never crowded, but she always would linger in the hallway, waiting to be called upon, their landline propped in her hand. His wife was quite the opposite though, she rushed in through doorways, pushed into his space, and spoke in much more frantic cadences. She tried to soothe but he could tell bedside manner was a foreign thing to her, and he didn’t blame her for that. It was quite endearing, how worried she was for his wellbeing. 

He was under the fog of a fevor for several days, and bedbound for the rest of the week fighting exhaustion. It was odd to wake without her visage by his side. A book propped in her lap, her fingers twined into the sheets and worrying over the cotton fabric. She routinely cleaned the room also, moving from shadowed corner to shadowed corner, checking for god knows what. He’d wake to her sometimes, pacing the room in the dark. She was not well when he was unwell. Didn’t know how to compartmentalize him disappearing in front of her, worried about his waning sanity and lightheadedness. 

But it went away by the turn of the week, and when he woke again it was February, and his Doc’ had worn away in his absence. He quickly turned the treatment to her, worried about her hunched posture and weak wrists. Her bags were deeper than ever and her clothes wrinkled from her continued pulling at them. A stack of books by her bedside chair and his clothes in her dresser drawers. 

He took it with some unknown grace, taking care of her. Found it natural to shoo her to bed and scold her to lie under her own cotton sheets. Smiling and goofing with her as he tucked her in extra tight. He had less of a habit of lingering though, coming and going with ease, carrying her new books and magazines from the mail. She’d read until her eyes grew tired again, and he’d come by the next hour to find her reading material propped against the bedsheets and her head drooping to her chest. 

Food was harder though, he’d admit he knew a select few things to actually make. The majority of them being breakfast foods, fast and easy. He hadn’t had a stable kitchen to cook in for over a decade before all this. He would peer over her shoulder during dinner at times, helping her chop things and adding spices here and there. But he couldn’t recall anything in the face of his worry, so he fed her breakfast foods for a solid week. Something she laughed at heartily, taking her plate from his flushed embarrassed self. 

She was more herself, more present in the waking world come the second week of February. She had more pep in her step and a wider smile than he remembers. She was more quick to affection and giggling in his presence. More keen to spend nights watching movies in front of the T.V., more eager to arrange herself beside him on the couch. More frequently put her head on his shoulder, more often than not peering up at him. Periodically reached for him now with open palms. 

He had pushed off the thought. The faded memory of the tub felt like a lifetime ago. The piercing humid water, the yellow fog of the bathroom, and her head crested into his chest. The way he trembled when he reached for her, the caress of his fingers against the apple of her cheek. The way she looked then, looked at him like there was a promise of salvation in the warmth of his lips against her cheek. He remembers the depth of the declaration they shared, something no longer unspoken between them. 

Except he believed it to be a fading dream in the turn of February. 

Thought it may be one of his stuttering dreams of having her close, those dreams where he took her in the confidence of her bedroom. Dreams where he folded her body into his because it meant something. Something sickly sweet about the dreams of them across the kitchen table, of the way a gold band glinted on her ring finger when she reached for him. In those dreams, he had memories of washing her, sharing baths and kisses, and car rides with music and laughter. One’s where he leaned over the middle of the long bench and kissed her and didn't think about the swerving of the car or the heat of her gaze. In those dreams it meant something, he thought it meant something, that he was her’s. 

It aligned with many a daydream-turned-nightmare he had had. Nightmares where she left, took what little she could call her own and disappeared in the fleeting of the night. Nightmares of her crumpled body and shaking voice, a violence he didn’t understand. It’d shake him awake and have him stumbling from doorway to doorway. To make sure she was there before anything else. 

But now he didn’t have to grasp doorframes and splintered wood to see her in the dead of the night. Because they had not parted since that January day, that day he swore when he woke in February must be a twisted figment of his own imagination. Only now, awake in the dead of the night in April could he swallow the truth of it all.

Stanley was not a calculating man. He did not think in fragments and pieces, and he was not one to quantify things in small details so much he worried himself into a stupor. That was more her forte, something he’d pull her out of on the regular. He thought in long-terms and wishes and aspirations. He reached for dreams and planned his life in accordance with past grudges. There were no calculations in the assurance that he had said was he said, said she was his. A breadth of possession he only thought attainable in those dreams he searched for. 

It burned him sometimes, to catch her looking. Forsook the thought he ever believed her longing for him to be a distant relic in his subconscious mind. She looked at him now most days, a clear edge in her eyes. The ones he had seen in dreams, a heat he memorized long ago. Something he swore he saw long ago. Something familiar, her eyes reminding him of fleeting dreams turned memory, of kisses in their car over the dash. The same edging heat he remembers. Where he called her his own, the memory that he thought was a tortuous dream for a solid fifteen days. 

The only time he counts, between folded cards on a poker table and days between dreams and her. His aspirations had shifted in a mere 1,735 days. Four years and some change since he had that dream turned memory, of her crawling heat upon his lap. Her teeth sunk into the crook of his shoulder. 

A shoulder she dug into now. Her head nestled into the junction of his arm every night since February. Something unspoken about the way they lived in each other's space now. Something inconsequential and flippant about sharing their warmth. 

At times it was difficult sharing this space. He would usually find relief in their departure from each other some nights, those nights she’d make for her bedroom doorframe alone were a distant memory. She’d drag his frame to the edge of her bed now, her shirt pooled around her bare legs, a pleading look in her eye when she rolled the blankets back and invited him in. A reminder of a dream. 

Partially why he was even awake now in the dead of the Spring night. Her warmth was inviting and it had awoken something eager in him. He would usually find some sort of… physical relief in the deep dark of night when he'd lie alone in his own bed. But his new bed had an extra guest who just happened to be the possession of many of his desires. Normally he would check, crawling to the edge of his bed to peer at her silhouette across the hall, ensuring that she was asleep. It would be a weight off his lower back after he concluded in relieving his frustrations that had built up throughout the day. Usually followed by the all too typical sense of guilt. Because she had been there when he closed his eyes. The waking version of his dream, just asleep across the hall. 

An accumulation of dire frustration pooled now at the bottom of his spine. To be so close to her, so familiar with the curve of her body along his own, but to not possess her in a more intimate way was hard. Frustrating, even. He wanted possession of her on a deeper level, a proof of concept to the edging of his lips along her cheek and the declaration on his tongue. He drept of kissing her now in the waking world also. Of tangling his body closer to her own, taking her in the confidence of her bedroom. Of their bedroom. He wanted to share more spaces with her over dashboards and bathtubs now. 

But he didn’t know how. She had him fumbling in that foolish teenage boy kind of way, despite his climbing age. He’d regret the time spent fussing over the smaller details like she always does. He wasn’t used to working in fragments and fractions of thoughts.

She had already been so overcome with the memory of still water she refused to leave his side. Had spilled her guts in the porcelain of the tub in January. He didn’t know what possessed him now to stutter around the thought of her. It would come to a precipice soon, one day. The feeling would possess him and he’d declare himself something more to her, ask for the lie shared between them to become a reality. Ask her to marry him before ever having uttered what real husbands tell their wives. Big words that would stumble from his mouth, the closest he’s ever been to obsession, having her folded into his body. Her warmth made him gooey and his lips loose and in the dead of the night he thought he would say it to her there. 

That he loved her. 

September, 1987

The summer passed as it usually did. Scattered memories shared between them now of evenings on their porch and nights spent tipsy in front of the T.V.

They danced between each other now. Warm hands met in the dark of the setting sun on the back porch most days. Her head deep within the crook of his shoulder each evening when they’d converge in front of the T.V. Warmth shared between them in the dead of the night, blankets moving off the bed in the heat of the summer. He’d lean into it all now, too. Linger his lips along her forehead and laugh more readily in her presence. Their eyes would meet most days now, an amusement shared between them both in their hesitancy to break any tension. 

She was not keen to leave his presence in the slightest these days, either. She had trouble in doorways and dark hallways. Didn’t like turning over her shoulder line to look for him. Followed him into rooms and up the stairs now. She hadn’t let him disappear from her site since February, since she became so ill with her worry all she could do was skim books and wait for him to return in between consciousness.  

He did not shake her from this fear of hers. He walked away with some of his own. Remembering the cool seeping into his lungs, the choking of water in his throat. Remembering the height at which he emerged from the dark ice. The height he had fallen from the beasts’ maw had frightened him beyond reason, almost more than the dark of the water. The water was familiar to him at least, but the height at which his head cracked against the ice had him waking from falling dreams at times. He was sure if she hadn’t surged forward that day to embed the ax into the beast's neck he would have fallen from an even higher height. That he may have been dead. 

So he understood, her need for his visage to be within eyesight. Understood waking dreams and following him through doorways now. But dreams were dreams and they couldn't live in technicalities. She loved technicalities though, she thought in fragments and of far-off realities that would never be. She was imaginative in the worst way, in the worrying way. 

Which was why she looked oh so small in the passenger seat today, the looming elementary school sitting right behind her. School was starting, and she was going to be away all day. 

They had not separated in quite some time, even before the whole January turned February turned dream turned reality. They separated between walls and hallways, but usually, not even doors got between them. Doors felt like a trap to him even to this day, something she understood inherently. 

“Ya gotta go Doc’.” He hummed, reaching for her hand now. Something he didn’t hesitate to do, his palm faced up. 

She breathes, nodding. Her foot tapping away at the car floor, her bulging bag held to her front. She allowed him to reach for her, meeting him in the middle of the long bench. Her fingers cresting over and playing with his own. “I know, I know, I know.” 

She keeps nodding, her hand reaching for her chest again. Rubbing along her heart in a self-soothing way. She had been doing that all morning, since breakfast. 

He had pushed off opening the shack, wanting to drop her off that morning for her first day. She had been so eager when she found the application to be a teacher’s assistant tucked into the back of the newspaper’s classifieds late last year. She was set to help out in a crowded first-grade classroom that day. Something she had been so eager to do. Before she remembered the balm to her anxieties would be far from her reach. 

It had been hard, the thought of leaving him all day. She had laughed when she applied, thinking about how Stanley would pout at her across the kitchen table every morning during the school year. How he’d wait for her to come home, dreamed of him needing her. But in a weird twist of fate, it would be her, her watching the clock in the coming hours. Waiting for his figure to crest back over the horizon line, to greet her in the warmth of the car and joke with her all the way home. 

God, she would miss him. She hadn’t been parted from him since she burst through the shack’s front door. Since she wandered in through the doorway like a mad woman, taken by his image even then. 

It was even harder now, the thought of him disappearing in murky black water was the centerpiece of dark thoughts these days. The edge of all her anxieties since January. She didn’t want to part from him, because what if something happened to him in her absence? What if he went somewhere she could not follow?  

She knew the fear was misplaced. Knew Stanely would not disappear from her forever. He would go about his day much the same way he had all summer. He’d get dressed, put on his father’s hat, and give tours and swindle eager mothers all day. The tourists had flooded in out of town early this season, eager for the northern fall colors that would soon seep into the treeline around their home. 

Despite knowing this, her heart would not stop. Anxious about having him drive so far from her. Did he know? Know she needed his soothing presence? Know that the root of all her anxieties surrounded him most days now? 

He did of course, he read her mind in a greater capacity than ever in the last couple of years. Knew her tells from the change of her face and the grip of her hand. Knew her playing with his fingers was a distraction and her scrunched brow spoke of the restless night she had beside him. 

“Hey, look at me.” He takes her chin now, moving her head from the dash to him. His dark eyes were warm in the very early morning light. Kids would be here soon, flooding into the hallways, and she was supposed to be there to greet them. He knew she wanted this, so eager at the thought of teaching and helping. She had been planning activities and how to best introduce herself to six-year-olds for weeks now. She wanted this, but it came at the cost of splitting, splintering their shared connection for a day. 

“You can do this honey. I know you can.” He looks so sure at her, his head tilted and a smile creeping onto his face. “Do you know why I know that?” 

She hums. “Why?” 

“Because you’re smart.” He nods, continuing, despite her scoff. “And you’re good, and you’re patient, and you’re kind, and you’re warm.” 

She laughs. “Warm?” 

“Ya, warm. You got that face on ya’, kids will approach you at random I know it. Got that glow about you. You’re pretty like that.” His hand reaching now to brush some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

She heats up beside him, back suddenly straight. “Pretty?” 

“You heard me.” He laughs too, like he’s known it forever, thought it forever. Like he was recounting the morning newspaper comics to her. Like it amused him that she didn’t know. That he thought she was pretty. 

She breathes. That might just get her through the day. Maybe through the month. That and the hot streak along her cheek to her ear. His hand warm as he pulls her across the middle of the long bench. He bends her into him, practiced from a dream turned reality from a time before. Drags his lips along the apple of her cheek, his scruff rubs against her. His lips warm along her, a heated path from her cheek to her ear again as he whispers between them. 

“Pretty, angel.” 

It catches her breath now when he calls her that. He does it at the most opportune times now. “Honey” made her heart beat fast and her face flush, but “angel” made heat gather below her stomach. Resurfaced a dream from long ago of his weight above her and his lips so close to her jugular it makes her gasp at the memory of it. He only says it, angel, when they are close now. When she is tucked into his shoulder on the couch or in the early birdsong of morning, their arms and chests tangled together. 

It always makes her surge, makes her more alert. Made her think of far-off dreams of wedding bands and kids she swore were her own. That’s what she wanted to remember from those nightmares, at least. What she reached for in her current reality. She wasn’t used to working in dreams and long-gone wistful thinking though. But she’d try, try to be braver in the waking world. 

So she nods, breaking from his warmth. A beginning bell broke her from the trance of his eyes and the warmth of his big warm hands. He was still in his jeans and a rumpled t-shirt, hair a mess on the crown of his head. She hoped he’d stay the same when he returned. That he’d look just like this to her. 

She sighs, reaching for her bag, shuffling papers deep into the overflowing open zipper at the top. She turns back to him, reaching for his hand now, palm warm against him as she brings his hand to her lips unthinking. Holding his hand close to her face, cupping it, cradling her face in its warmth. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Pines.” 

He laughs, but she doesn’t miss the rise of redness to the tips of his large ears.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Pines.” 

She reaches for her door, opening it herself for the first time since meeting him. He yells, “Wait!” Rushing from his seat and the idling parked car to run along the front of the car, reaching and opening her door for her. A funny flourish to his hand, and a fake bow as she folds and steps out of the car. 

He closes the door promptly, outstretching his arms to actually encase her, to actually say goodbye to her now. Her hands along the expanse of his back, fingers crooked into the collar of his shirt. He sighs again, letting go of the warmth between them. His head still tucked forward, his lips greeting the curve of her hairline. Whispering along her head, “Goodbye for now.” 

She sighs again, shoulders slumped and bag hefty along her back. “Goodbye for now.” 

It’s the hardest thing, to turn from him. But the rush of children now seeping into the school reminds her she’s at least five minutes late for her very first day. For her very first actual job since working alongside Stanford. It makes the doubt turn in her veins, only reassured by the shadow of him behind her. 

And when she turns there, searching over her shoulder line he’s still there, leaning against the car, like he had been waiting for her to turn again.  Firm and whole and handsome and hers entirely. Reminds her of a faint dream when he waves again, a glint she swore was on his finger. A golden band she remembers and a promise he swore of never leaving her again, not like that.

She thinks to say it then, entirely loud and brief between their distances. Thinks of phrases whispered close to her ears and folded into her arms. A familiarity in the sentiment, but entirely foreign on her tongue. Something unspoken between syllables she cannot voice now, standing at the entrance to the small school. Taken by his image, has words almost stumbling out of her mouth like a mad woman. 

She thinks to tell him then and there, that she loves him. 

[worldlxvlys]

the fic u wrote called “use me” WAS SO GOOD OMG. you should write smth where chris is sub and the reader overstimulates him (like he cums like 6 times & he's crying & has to use there safe word) it’s kind of a similar request to the one u already did but idk maybe u could creative w it and do other stuff then like just head and riding. this is so aggressive but idc im a SLUT for sub chris & overstimulation.

pepsi

dwb! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: ummm this is straight filth so don’t read if you don’t want to , oral (male receiving), p in v, overstimulation, use of vibrator , use of wrist tie, use of safe word

dwb! chris masterlist

thanks for the request !! hope you like <333

I LOVE SUB CHRIS I LOVE SUB CHRIS I LOVE SUB CHRIS !!

—————

“you’re so needy tonight, baby” i said to chris, who kept rubbing his bulge against me.

“really need you to fuck the shit out of me ma” he said as planted kisses down his chest.

“you sure ? cause if you want, i can get that bitch whose hands are always on you” i said in a firm, annoyed tone.

“she’s just a customer princess, no one fucks me like you do”

“i know” i said, looking meeting his lust-filled gaze.

eagerly, we quickly helped each other out of our clothes.

“wanna try something new?” i asked, remembering that i had received a new toy in the mail earlier.

“always, baby” with that, i reached into my nightstand grabbing a vibrator and a wrist tie.

when he saw this, his eyes widened. “am i tying you up baby?” he asked.

“nope, i’m tying you up. unless you don’t want me to?”

“of course i do baby, love when you take control” with that i tied his hands together, behind his back.

“you know your safeword?” “pepsi”

“perfect, baby” i said as i gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“are you using the vibrator on yourself ma?” he asked, eagerly. i switched it on.

“nope” i said as i placed it on his tip, making him buck his hips in surprise.

“holy shit ma, fuck fuck fuck” oh he’s in for a long night.

“feel good, chris?” i asked as i moved my face closer to his dick.

“yea ma, holy fuck”

i licked a stripe up his member, watching him squirm.

“jesus baby”

“hmmm you think anyone else can make you feel this good?”

he was feeling so much pleasure, all he could get out was strangled moans.

i grabbed his dick and squeezed the base of it, never moving the vibrator from his tip.

“shit yes!” his eyes widened. “i mean no! no! no one makes me feel like you! oh my gosh”

chris was never usually this vocal, so i was eating this up.

“hmm chris, what’s wrong? can’t even think straight huh?” i asked teasingly.

i took his balls in my mouth, now moving the vibrator up and down his shaft.

“m-ma, if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum”

i briefly paused to answer, “good” and went back to work on his dick.

his hips started to sputter, and he shot out thick white ropes of cum.

without a moment of hesitation, i liked him clean.

“holy shit baby” he said, breathing heavily.

i switched the vibrator off, setting it aside and moving my face back to his cock.

i swirled my tongue around his dick, making him buck his hips up and accidentally pushing himself to the back of my throat.

“baby, baby i’m so sens-“ he cut himself off with a moan as i continued to deepthroat him.

i reached down with my free hand, and played with my clit.

his groans turned into whimpers as i began to moan against him.

“feels so, fuck,so g-good baby”

i moaned in response to his praise, and he fell over the edge again.

i gave him a chance to recover, running my hands up his thighs soothingly and leaving kisses on his abs.

“gonna ride you now” i said moving my legs on either side of him, straddling him.

i didn’t wait for a response as i lined him up with my hole and slowly lowered myself onto him.

“mmmmmm” he whined. i watched as his arms flexed while he tried to fight against his restraint.

i waited a few seconds, and started to move in circular motions loving the way his dick pressed against my walls.

“mmm hm hmmm” more whines, before i started to bounce on his dick.

“ughhhhhh chris you feel so fucking good” i said feeling his dick deep inside of me.

he didn’t last long, already pretty sensitive from his previous orgasms.

“mmmmm- cumming cumming” he whined out as he released inside me. i kept going, determined to finish.

he continued to whine and whimper, while i fucked myself on his cock. his head was thrown back, overtaken with pleasure.

“c’mon chris, know you can make it baby” i said. i was so close to my orgasm.

“fuck chris, i’m cumming baby” i said. shortly after, i released on his cock.

my own release seemed to trigger another from him, taking us both by surprise as he let out a deep moan.

“tell me baby, does anyone else make you cum this much?” he didn’t answer.

he was in a blissed out state, eyes glazed over with lust, his hair sticking to his forehead, and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin.

i grabbed the vibrator, turning it on quickly and placing it where his dick and my pussy met.

“i asked you a god damn question chris”

“no no no no, no one, fuck, no one else. no one else”

the vibrator was hitting my clit perfectly, and i started to rock my body into it.

“shit chris”

chris’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as tears started to fall from his eyes.

“too much, too much baby”

i started to bounce again as i kept the vibrator against my clit, getting closer and closer to another orgasm.

i clenched around him as i released all over his cock again. i then lifted myself off of him and began to jerk him off to help him finish.

his hips twitched violently and i watched him squirm as he got closer and closer.

then, finally, strings of cum shot out of his dick. the more i pumped, the more cum flew out. i was milking him dry.

“OK OK! PEPSI PEPSI!” he yelled.

immediately, i let go of him and untied his wrists.

“shit baby, are you ok?” i asked, becoming concerned.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry chris”

he then cupped my face. “it’s ok baby, no need to apologize. that was hot as fuck, i just didn’t know if you were ever gonna stop”

“i don’t know if i was either, honestly” we both laughed.

i gave him a kiss to the forehead, “i’m gonna go run you a bath, baby” i said.

“thanks ma”

—————

…….heyyyy

idek what to say.

i need holy water.

can you tell i love sub! chris ?

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn

[nilsavatar]

DAY 31 - A/B/O

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, rubbing, sexual tension, olfactophilia (they both turn on by smelling arousal/pheromones), P in V, manhandling, oral (f receiving), face fucking, fingering, praising, cursing, pet name (ma’uniltı`ranyu - my dreamwalker), rough, knotting, dirty talk, overstimulation, edging, strangers to lovers, first time (first heat, loss of avatar body virginity), begging, difference in power (alpha-omega dynamics), soft-dom Neteyam (mention of marking, possessive behavior but he’s kind and caring), Jamie Flatters cameo. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Living in the body of an avatar is not as simple as one might think.

Little note: OMG! You have no idea how happy I am to have finally finished this fic. It has been on hiatus for so many months that I thought I would never publish it. The more time passed, the more the pressure to write something worth the long wait increased. I rewrote it so many times, but it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I hope with all my heart not to disappoint your expectations. Please be forgiving: this is my first Omegaverse. Thank you🥰

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please write it in the comments. I will be happy to add you all💕

Word Count: 7,6k

Masterlist - Request a fic

Aubree’s knowledge as a xenobiologist fell short in front of the challenges of living as a dreamwalker among the Na’vi.

The presence of a secondary sex was fascinating, fictional in the eyes of a human being, accustomed to a binary system. But on Pandora, things were way different. The natives displayed their primary sex (male or female) from birth, and their roles in the clan were influenced by signs that emerged during puberty. Alphas, predominantly men, possessed a massive physiognomy. Tall, muscular, strong-willed, controlled in character, yet predisposed to irascibility. Betas were the largest group, with an equal proportion of females and males, and the most human-like. Omegas, mostly women, were known for their petite and delicate build, along with a calming demeanor.

When she arrived on Pandora, she had no particular expectations of what her avatar’s designation would be. Still, no one would ever have considered a potential alpha looking at her features. Aubree was a spitfire who was unlikely to be pushed around and knew her stuff in professional terms. Someone who won’t let you get away with nothing. However, her dainty physique and conflict-avoiding tendency were clear indications she would be an omega (or beta at best). The moment she connected with the hybrid, clarity rained down on her like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her own body erupted in a chorus of sensations, each one clamoring for attention. It was as if every nerve ending had awoken from a deep sleep, demanding to be felt. The omega within seemed to mold itself to her presence, wrapping around her with the natural warmth of a long-lost sibling's affection. Its voice, like a lullaby, soothed tenderly in her ears, caressed her senses, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. It had waited for her for a lifetime, patiently biding, though she felt as if it had always been there; their destinies entwined for eternity. The connection felt familiar as if it had always been an integral part of her existence, hidden deep within her soul, longing to be seen. A joyous reunion with her inner essence, theirs, rather than a discovery of something new about herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the blinding white light of the hospital room assaulted her vision, her first instinct was to cry. Overwhelmed by the pent-up emotions that had been building within her.

Yet another factor played a role ��� a negative note. The recognition wasn’t exclusive to her; everyone around her, from the very moment she had awoken as an avatar, had sensed, smelled what she was. And this made it obvious why omegas often experienced such a designation as a condemnation.

Alphas’ attentions may be... excessive.

From a human perspective, Na’vi were naturally intrusive. The concept of personal space between the two species was totally at odds; they were prone to be close, to touch each other, to smell each other. A fundamental part of their socialization techniques. Aubree could have learned to tolerate it as a cultural trait if her alpha-designated colleagues didn’t engage in the same behaviors. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s the pheromones,” said matter-of-fact Max, not having any other scientific explanation. Studies on the subject were stalled. Without a vomeronasal organ connected to the brain, or terrestrial examples to refer to, they couldn’t describe the phenomenon. The only thing palpable to both of them, equally inexplicable, was that her wake was inviting. Alphas were almost reduced to a primal state around her. “You should talk to the Tsahìk about this,” Aubree mentally berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Who better than the Tsahìk, the spiritual leader of the clan and the highest authority among healers, to provide her with the answers she sought? And maybe even help in dealing with the symptoms.

*

The healers’ tent wasn’t large. Quite the opposite, it was indeed small. The room appeared even tinier with the disorganized heap of things stacked on top of each other in a jumbled mess, creating the feeling it could burst at any time. An imminent threat to be fair. However, under scrutiny, one could discern an order in the distribution of the items. To her right, tools of various types and sizes covered the entire wall. To the left, on shelves arranged by color, were terracotta jars filled with powders and ointments. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others were bizarre, tongued, or angular. Engraved on the bottom of each were symbols. An early form of writing, considering the People were still oral.

A little further down, the counter ran around the entire interior of the room to the nearest post of mattresses where sicks could rest. Behind the cupboard was the massiest shelf of all. Ampoules, mirrors, rolls of cloth, baskets of bandages, needles, and flowers stuffed somehow. That place was a unique contradiction, ranging from manic order to disturbing chaos. Despite the dimness and the oppressive atmosphere, the tent also emitted a serene, welcoming feeling, akin to the mystical aura of a shaman’s lair.

But one not was out of place. Post-its here and there written in… English? What were post-its doing in the Tsahìk tent? They were so out of context.

“I see the human touch doesn’t go unnoticed.” Aubree gasped, more at the dull sound of something heavy being moved across the counter than the surprise itself. A woman emerged from the myriad of baskets scattered across the floor, placed one on the wooden shelf, and emptied its contents. Her hair, just above her chin, was straight but messy. The tswin, displayed in front of her chest, obscured the huge needle that hung from her slender neck. At every movement, the beads of the intricate shawl that covered her shoulders and breasts jingled, as lively as a child’s laughter. A streaked cerulean complexion set off lemon-yellow irises fixed upon her like those of a cat.

How old was she? Her face appeared youthful, almost adolescent, yet her eyes betrayed wisdom and worldliness far beyond her years.

“You must be Aubree. I was waiting for you to show up.” It seemed as if the healer’s pupils flickered at the sound of her name. The avatar stepped forward. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite, Tsahìk of the Omatikaya.” Acting on impulse, she extended her hand, but when the young woman didn’t shake it, she hastily corrected the gesture into the typical bow of greeting and reverence. She looked amused.

“No need for formality here. We are the same age and are both researchers. We have more in common than you might think.” A smirk curved her plump lips as she put her fists on her sides. “To what do I owe the glee of your visit? I suppose you need to ask me something.” Her sudden remark made her jolt. The Na’vi woman stopped arranging the shelves and turned to look at her with anticipation. “Well?” “I wouldn’t know where to even start. It’s something I don’t fully understand,” she confessed. “Is it related to your dreamwalker body?” She nodded. “But humans cannot help you.” It wasn’t a question, but the scientist nodded anyway. Kiri drew a smile and disappeared behind a curtain that separated the room from the next one — a laboratory. After several minutes, she reappeared with a small box full of tea filters. “Have one in the morning and another in the evening. It’s a suppressant; it will quell your pheromones.”

Aubree blushed furiously. How…?

“I might be just a beta, but your wake is so strong that it knocked me out for a sec. I dare not imagine the effect you have on alphas.” “Not pleasant.” “Much too pleasant, you mean,” she chuckled. “Be careful not to abuse the drug. You wouldn’t want to find out about the side effects. And remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during estrus.”

Estrus.

The idea hadn’t crossed her mind at all when she accepted her Ph.D. and joined the AVTR Program. She was so thrilled to pursue her dream she would have accepted any job proposal. And who was she to deny she had always felt a fascination about natives? Na’vi estrus cycle was highly articulated and varied by secondary sex designation. Beta females, like humans, had a menstrual cycle and were potentially always fertile, exhibiting no visual, behavioral, or olfactory signals announcing impending ovulation.

Quite a different story for omegas and alphas.

The former went into heat three times a year, about four months between cycles, and could last up to seven agonizing days in the absence of a partner to care for them. This was their peak fertility period. The latter rutted once a year, and the length of the inter-anestrus was unpredictable. In mated pairs wasn’t uncommon for one’s heat to trigger the other’s.

“What should I do when it happens?” “Well, the most natural advice would be to spend it with a playmate, preferably an alpha, as theirs are the only pheromones that have a calming effect on omegas. There is no risk of conception for those who are not mated, so as long as your kuru’s are not entwined, let go.” “Mm, alternatives?” “Lock yourself in a shelter until it ends, away from everyone. But that is the least desirable option. It’s terribly painful to face heat alone.” “I could stay disconnected as long as my avatar is in this state.” “Risking dying of dehydration and starvation in the meantime? Or worse, that some alpha will have fun at your expense?” Kiri hastened to say, noticing the scientist’s horrified expression. “Yes, it has happened, and I assure you that the physical memory of the trauma remains, even if consciousness was not present.” “But I’ll still have to log out myself. My human body needs care, too.” “All the more reason you should find someone to look after you, and quickly. Your first heat is approaching.”

As if that were a small thing.

“My intuition tells me you’ll be fine. Now go. And drink your infusion.” She was about to leave the tent when one last question left Aubree’s lips: “How will I know I’m in heat?” “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

She was so absorbed in Kiri’s words that she didn’t even notice the hungry glances she was catalyzing. Especially that of a distinguished man wearing a feathered cloak. The young Olo’eyktan followed her figure as she made her way back to the human outpost until she was swallowed up by the thick undergrowth.

“She doesn’t have a mate if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice to his left exclaimed. As he turned, he came face to face with the Tsahìk, whose penetrating stare revealed a cunning expression that hinted at a deeper understanding. “I don’t see why this indiscretion of yours should interest me.” “Mm, I don’t know. Seems like she caught your interest.” “Hard to ignore with the trail she carries.” A corner of Kiri’s mouth twitched: Neteyam had just been trapped in the net. “She’s not the first omega with such a scent passing under your nose, but you’ve barely noticed the others.” The young man’s back straightened. “What's your point?” “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

Neteyam’s gaze was again lost in scanning the spot where the avatar had vanished, lost in a thousand thoughts. Unaware of the bright, wide smile that now graced his sister’s beautiful face. The satisfied smirk of one who sees three moves ahead.

*

Upon entering the research division’s canteen, some may have felt as if they stepped into Goldilocks’ fairy tale. Everything in there was big, big or small, small, except for the stove and tables, which were set at an intermediate height so that both avatars and pilots could use them.

Aubree stared at the teapot brewing the concoction Kiri had given her; her nose stung by the pungent yet fresh smell of nettle wafting from the spout. Carefully, she poured the liquid into a cup without straining — Ingest the leaves — and drank it. Immediately, her throat burned and a tremendous itch seemed to want to tear it open.

Shit, even worse than anticipated.

She took a seat on the plush sofa, its velvety fabric enveloping her frame. As she pressed play on the remote, the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the dimply lit room. Her eyes followed the vivid images of a movie for distraction, but her mind was eaten up by the searing prickle that intensified with each passing moment. The discomfort became all-consuming, shielding her from the outside world, as if the itchy sensations had woven a barrier around her, isolating the woman in her own thoughts. She was oblivious to her colleague’s presence until he sank into the cushions beside her. His arm hung weakly on the backrest, almost brushing against her shoulder. But it was his sudden loud snort that jolted her back to reality. Aubree jumped as she turned to her right and found Jamie. His left knee wedged into his opposite ankle, his foot dangling in her direction. His head rested an inch from the wall, eyes half-closed in a drowsy state.

“You look tired.”

The guy let out a low, rumbling laugh in his typical mumble before replying that he felt like a bulldozer had run over him. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, evident in the strain it put on his distinct British accent. She surreptitiously watched him, taking in the details of his avatar that closely resembled the human it was created from. His gaze remained the same, although his blue irises had now turned a striking shade of yellow. His lips and teeth mirrored the original, except for the canines. When he smiled full-mouthed, two dimples appeared on his cheeks, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, as if they were smiling, too. His slightly protruding incisors gave his face a boyish charm, contrasting with his strong, masculine features. He radiated a sense of gentleness.

That last remark had the same effect as lightning illuminating the night. They were conversing freely, as they would have if they were humans.

An alpha and an omega.

Aubree had gotten into the habit of avoiding alphas as much as possible when she was in this body; head down, shy look, walk fast. Never within nose reach. But Jamie did not lose his cool in her presence. He didn’t sniff the air greedily. His gaze didn’t become insistent as it passed over her face. He didn’t moisten his lips endlessly or clench his jaw and fists as if to keep himself from jumping on her. Nor did hold his breath and make excuses, running for his life as he was wont to do.

The suppressor was working!

The success of the next days was enough for the unknown estrus to recede into the background, in the darkest and most hidden place in her head. Who could blame her? Her life was finally back to normal. After all, her avatar's first heat couldn't have been so terrible, could it? Just stick to this simple recipe and everything will be fine, repeated as a mantra.

Remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during the heat.

Time passed, and days turned into weeks. The taste of the medicine became more tolerable as her throat grew accustomed to its piquant flavor. Even if it wasn’t, the end justified the means. Aubree took the doses with obsessive precision, but after a few months, she noticed the effects wearing off, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began.  The first warning came in the form of mild dizziness when she logged in, accompanied by a lingering feeling of fever. Then, her appetite waned, alternating with sudden bouts of hunger. Finally, twinges settled in her iliac fossae. She chalked it as harmless PMS, nothing she hadn’t already experienced. Most importantly, not a cause for alarm regarding her host’s performance or health; the hybrid was fully functional.

Wait a minute. Premenstrual syndrome?

As she walked down the hallway leading to the medical area, her mind wandered back to her last period. Her forefinger swiftly navigated the tablet, selecting the calendar app she used to track her menstrual cycle. She was still a long way from the start of the next one, a full two weeks, right in the middle of her fertility window. Maybe I’m ovulating. The symptoms she had been going through lately aligned with that assumption. Breast sensitivity, a slight increase in discharge, heightened lubrication, and libido.

This would have been enough to reassure her, if not for the steady, soft beeping coming from the hospital room, serving as a haunting reminder. Her stare roamed beyond the glass, taking in the circle of Link Units surrounding a pair of desks in the center, a total of eight. It settled on the last station on the far left. Number 3. Her lucky number. Well, not so lucky, given how things were going. The monitor next to it showed the status of the machine, the vitals of the subject inside, the neural activity of the two interconnected brains. The real-time image of the pilot's unconscious face.

Aubree’s face.

And so she realized the symptoms were none other than the avatar's. Ovulation, PMS, cravings were all alarm bells that the heat was near. But who gave her the coup de grâce was Jamie himself.

The guy was running towards her, calling out and weaving, eager for something he was about to share if he didn’t put the brakes on his run. With his palm up to cover his mouth and nose, he said, “Woah Bree... You stink.” His pupils showed a hint of dilation. “It’s time, isn’t it? The suppressant isn’t working anymore.” “Guess so.” “Um, I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but...” He scratched nervously at the back of his head, no longer holding her gaze. “... if you ever need help dealing with… that. I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d prefer a friend taking care of me over some random dude. So...” “Thanks, Jamie, for the offer. I know it’s from a genuine interest, and that you’re not trying to take advantage of the situation. I appreciate it, but maybe the Tsahìk can help me out while I’m in the shelter.” “It could last for days.” “I still haven’t come to terms that intercourses are the only way. She's possibly making it sound worse than it actually is.” “Possibly not. Thinking you’ll be locked up somewhere suffering...” "I'll log out for the night," Aubree giggled. “Besides, it would be kinda weird, don’t you think? We work together.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do science. Stuff like that won't faze me. You better hurry, based on the scent you're giving off, you could be in heat any minute. If you change your mind...” With a last playful wink, Jamie left.

Free to return to her concerns, Aubree’s smile turned into a taut line. She had to find Kiri. Quickly.

*

As she battled the relentless fever, the seemingly endless and overwhelming path to Hometree stretched out before her. Every step was a struggle, her trembling hands clutching onto the rough tree trunks for support. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, her eyes squinting against the blinding rays of the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The intense heat made her perspire profusely, the dampness seeping through her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. She wished she could strip off her garments; the discomfort unbearable. The thought of dying of shame seemed trivial compared to the fire that consumed her from within, leaving her skin burning and blistering. 

Sounds of prolemuris filled the air, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. The heavy, rich, damp bouquet of lush vegetation mingled with the freshness of rain and whiffs of her scent, alerting a hunter nearby to her presence. His senses heightened. With narrowed eyes, he tasted the air, as if savoring a fine wine. The particles rose into his nostrils, painting a vivid image of Aubree in his mind. Her sweet face, adorned with sparkling eyes, and sinuous curves stood out against the dry features of the People. 

As he continued to track her trail, his pupils dilated, his senses enticed by the lingering aroma. Every step he took, he could feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rough texture of the leaves brushing against his fingertips. The air was alive with anticipation, as if holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. But as quickly as the scent had captivated him, the hunter’s instincts kicked in. He realized that if he could smell her, others could too. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the rainforest. With a determined resolve, he pressed on, his senses alert, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He left his prey to almost run the distance that separated him from the woman. His omega. The moments it took him to reach her seemed like hours when they were a handful of minutes at most. He found her at the foot of a plant, curled up in a ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she whispered incomprehensible words under her breath. The man staggered, his senses assaulted by the unmistakable pungent smell of her heat stench. A wake so overpowering that left him breathless and struck, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the breaking point, he bravely advanced towards her, finally falling to his knees. If only he had resisted his natural urges. He could not allow himself to give in. Not him.

With a gentle touch, he cradled her jaw in his palm and soothed her with slow, reassuring strokes along her side, repeating, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You’re safe now. You're not alone; I'm here for you. You’re going to be okay.”  Her cry-streaked face trembled as she whispered, “Please... I can’t take it any longer,” cheeks dampened by an endless stream of tears. “Just take care of it.” He cursed in frustration, powerless that he couldn’t even bring her to his sister. Kiri was assisting a primipara in childbirth. “Please!”  Before taking her in his arms and laying her gently against his chest, the Na’vi sighed, his voice filled with resignation, “Yes, whatever you need.”

Walking backward towards the nearest shelter, he kept his gaze fixed on the path, his piercing eyes fully focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. The very direction he had originally come from. Not that anyone could have stood up to him under those circumstances. Regardless of whether he had reached the woman first, no one would have been foolish enough to challenge the clan’s top warrior. 

Groaning, Aubree nuzzled against him, finding solace in the familiar and calming scent that emanated from his skin. Like lowered into a light, peaceful bubble, his soothing alpha pheromones everywhere. An alpha she couldn’t recognize, her vision too blurry, but to whom the omega inside her was singing a serenade. In this foggy confusion, she could only hear the beating of his heart against her ear and the oh-so-big, firm hands holding her up. And though she could not see him, starry eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, looking tenderly at her. 

Her fantasy drifted away, picturing him holding her close, his lips exploring every inch of her body, and their lovemaking leaving her in a state of euphoric surrender. A shiver ran down her spine and made her throbbing quicken at the mere thought of being touched where the tremendous burn concentrated the most. The brush of his lips on her forehead and the tip of her nose made her believe, if only for an instant, that reality had merged with her imagination. His voice lingered in the air, like a gentle gust against her mouth, hinting that they were just moments away from their destination.

Where, she would have inquired, but there wasn’t much room for consistency in her head right now, her perceptions too chaotic to form a coherent question. She would have gone to the ends of the Universe, as long as it meant she could be near him.

Next to her, on her, inside her. Her heart raced with anticipation.

As the hunter laid her down on the mattress and went to fetch water, it was no surprise that her expression crinkled, her eyelids opened slightly, and a low moan eluded her parched lips.

“You need to drink,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern, as he offered out a small bowl. The liquid inside shimmered, reflecting the soft glow of the room. However, she shook her head, causing the contents to spill onto the floor, the sound of the liquid splashing echoing through the silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by a deep-seated worry as he watched her. Her arms opened towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He had never encountered such desperation and helplessness in an omega before. 

Calmly, he laid down beside her, pulling her gently towards him. As he hugged her, she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. But it wasn’t enough. Aubree craved more, she needed more. And so he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and tender, like a delicate caress. When she bit into them, the taste exploded on her tongue, a blend of sweet honey and warm sunshine. The flavors danced and mingled, delighting her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of sparks and stars illuminating her mind. His tongue explored her mouth with a gentle touch, mirroring the soothing sensation of his hands as they massaged her tense shoulders.

She felt perfect, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight danced across their entwined bodies, casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. The warmth of his arms, his faint scent mingled with her own, enveloped her, creating a sweet, comforting haven from the outside world. Yet, an intoxicating sensation filled the air as she nestled against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A soothing melody that resonated deep within her. Every touch, every caress, sent waves of bliss coursing through her body. In this moment, she found solace and contentment, knowing that she had found her rightful place - in his loving arms.

She was exactly where she belonged, complete and fulfilled.

When he let go, she was panting, her lungs desperate for oxygen, her heart pounding in her chest. All she could see were his eyes, lost in darkness. Delighting in her exquisite taste, surpassing his wildest dreams, he pressed his lips against her face and kissed her deeply. The overwhelming passion seemed to consume her, suffocating her with its intensity. He gently moved away, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and as he did, he positioned himself on top of her, taking off the thin t-shirt she had on.

As much as he longed to press his skin against the avatar's, the Na’vi couldn’t help but be drawn to her curvaceous physique, a stark contrast to the ruggedness of his own kind. He took his sweet time to admire her; the naked breasts, the rounder hips, he could not resist stroking them with his fingertips. Aubree’s scent brainwashed him, a slave to the instinct to take her where she was, but in the back of his mind, there was still enough clarity to realize that he was truly amazed by the wonder of the woman before him. He liked her. He really liked her. He had liked her from the first moment he had noticed her, her trail so enchanting that it could not be ignored.

Once again, he yearned to taste her, to hold her. He placed his lips upon every reachable inch, leaving his mark with his intoxicating scent. He lavished attention on her face, caressed her eyes, nibbled on her ears, traced her collarbones, and claimed her neck, burying his nose in her skin, his tongue tenderly exploring the hidden depths behind her shoulder. It was a remarkably sensitive spot, causing her to surrender to pleasure, her corneas tilting backward in ecstasy. The surge of pheromones transformed into a primal growl, resonating deep within her core; uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. He pressed harder against her hips, releasing a second wave that intensified their connection.

Aubree wrapped her limbs around him, squeezing him in a fervent embrace. The sound of their mingling breaths filled the air as their lips met once more, a symphony of desire. Overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against hers, she reveled in the way he effortlessly fit into the curves of her form. Each kiss and caress he bestowed upon her skin brought a cascade of relief that engulfed her senses.

Through the graceful dance of their bodies, she felt the weight of his longing against her. Every movement spoke volumes of his desire to please her, to alleviate her anguish. As his lips explored her skin, a low, guttural moan escaped her throat, resonating with a mixture of gratification and pain. In the air, a spice of raw passion intertwined with a hint of vulnerability. In his touch, she could sense the depth of his caring, his soulful dominance.

She realized how similar they were: two people subjected to their nature.

Equally desperate, her lungs aching, she reached a trembling hand towards his tail, fingers brushing against the coarse texture of the loincloth. The tightly cinched knot resisted her efforts, causing each tug to reverberate with a faint sound of strained fabric. The hunter, his muscles trembling with anticipation, propped himself up slightly, his breaths mingling with hers in the dimly lit room.

Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he painstakingly unraveled the knot, his fingers working with meticulous precision. The sensation of the fiber slipping through his grasp sent shivers down his spine, a mix of alleviation and frustration intertwining in his chest. The weight of the tewng around his ankles became a physical reminder of the barriers they both longed to shed. Almost on the verge of tears, he yearned for liberation from this confining cloth, craving the proximity and warmth they shared. With a swift motion, he freed himself from the bindings, the garment rustling quietly as it fell to the ground. In an instant, he pulled her back into his embrace, his arms blanketing her with a renewed fervor.

As their bodies tangled, a rush of emotions flooded their senses — the scent of their shared desire hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sweat. The touch of their skin, now unencumbered, ignited a fire that burned with an intensity they could no longer deny.

The scientist loved every moment; his piercing, smoldering gaze fixated on her, lolling in every tender touch, every flattering word, but she reached her limit, and he could sense it. Suddenly, the biting cold dusk shrouded her exposed form. Her garments were violently ripped away, leaving her vulnerable. The icy sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, though, for that was all the time it took for the stranger to plunge into her doused core. His intricate braids tickled against the satin-like skin of her inner thigh. The balmy breeze of his breath danced upon her as she rolled up her sticky legs around his head. “No need for that,” she giggled, her voice trembling. The sharp edges of his canines teased her, causing a playful tingle to spread across her lips. His smile showing both desire and mischief.

With exasperating slowness, he inhaled in a long sniff, his expounded pupils pulsating as they reopened. He dove in to guzzle the juicy nectar at its source, emitting a hoarse moan with the initial sip. She gasped, feeling the vibration against her quivering lips, as a blissful wave rippled through her soul, intensifying her arousal. Gripping her silky hair, he nestled his face, exploring every crevice, nuzzling her thoroughly. His insatiable tongue and eager lips caressed the velvety walls of her intimate entrance, skillfully teasing the supple skin and delicate clitoris. His left hand, loving and firm, cupped her slender ankle, his touch sending shivers up her bone. Slowly, he trailed his hand up her smooth thigh, his fingertips tracing every contour, igniting a fiery anticipation within her. With a whispered whoop, he sank his index into her swollen, drenched core, the wetness coating his digit. There was no resistance, only an overwhelming urge for more. In sync with her ragged sighs, he added a second finger. The sound of their combined panting saturated the air as her grip tightened around his relentless, plunging fingers.

At this point, Aubree was trembling with need as every fiber within her begged to be fucked. The alpha’s dominant pheromones beguiled her, while his languid, deliberate movements captivated her gaze. His hungry eyes, dark and all-consuming held her spellbound by the way he devoured her. The crushed combination of his present and skill left her subdued, infatuated even. As her back arched in pleasure, a primordial scream tore through her open windpipe. Excitement was so intense, a fiery mixture of ecstasy and release so gratifying and flawless,  that her omega felt a devastating love than just heat. In that instant, he hit her G-spot with caustic precision one final time, causing her to pour forth in a torrential climax. A violent, passionate eruption met by the man’s eager mouth, which drank her essence like a thirsty beast.

However, something unexpected happened as the orgasm subsided. Aubree burst into tears.

Copious tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks; wet, hot streaks that burned almost as scorching as the new, unbearable fire festering in her belly. Sobs rang through the shelter as he called her back, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, now curled against his chest seeking consolation. “Shushu... ‘Upe kemwiä? (What is it?).” He murmured, his lips resting on her temples as he futilely wiped away her tear-strained cheekbones. “It doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.” She cried, her nails scratching his chest, desperately trying to hold on to something. Her nose rubbed against his rib cage, then his jaw to impregnate him with her perfume, his heart pounding wildly.

In a frenzy of kisses and bites and touches, he let her vent, his digits grazing along her spine, confused by the speed with which the urge had reassembled in her. The Na’vi was confused by the speed with which the itch had reassembled within her. Normally it would take a few hours after such a powerful first orgasm. Time to rest, eat, drink. Aubree badly needed hydration to combat the incessant fever that plagued her and the fluids she was losing.

“Take a moment to rest. You need to drink.” “Screw the water, I want you,” she confessed, her misty eyes fixated on him. They shimmered with unstoppable tears and thirst. Her face flushed with a violent purple. It was the most powerful heat the man had ever witnessed, and he wondered what had triggered it. That it was her first heat? Had the suppressors made her high? It was because of him? The alpha in him reprimanded him with the natural mildness of primal appetites. Just take her, she’s pleading for it. But he shook his head. It wasn’t him. He was better than that. He had been raised to care for others, not to use them. Alphas protect, that was what gave them purpose; he would do anything to protect his mate, even from herself.

Even though she wasn’t technically his mate.

Despite not being bonded in the traditional sense, their connection was undeniable. Aubree, unbeknownst to her, held a special place in his heart from the very moment they met. It was clear from the start that this outcome was unavoidable. Calling upon anything that could keep him sane, he held some sort of energy drink under her nose. “Näk (drink).” The omega sounded at this command. It was as if by speaking in his native language, he was able to assert himself a thousand times more forcefully, even if she didn't get his words. The omega knew for both of them. “Can you do this for me? Drink this and I'll give you everything you want.” She had never heard anything more beautiful. She swelled the entire contents in one gulp, her head dizzy from the sudden amount of sugar. She fell back between the pillows with a quickening pulse, even if he was stroking her hair comfortably. The fall brought a fresh whiff of her needy wake, filling the entire hut as well as his nostrils. Instinctively, the hunter took a deep breath. A breath, that stopped halfway as his brain registered the source of the trail between the woman’s legs. A shimmering fountain that caused him to let out a guttural roar of defeat. He was so weak to her.

As he settled between her groin, the tip of his erection brushed against the warrior’s waistband, still clinging to his torso. The only garment Aubree had allowed him to keep.  The sight of him, breathtakingly elegant and athletic, thanks to Eywa’s mercy, overshadowed the idea of how many other omegas had the privilege of having him inside them before her. But now he was all hers. That thought alone ignited a fresh wave of excitement to blossom. He pressed his full weight onto her, and she wasted no time running her hands over his taut, strong, muscular back. Every contour, every sinew, was exquisitely formed and enticing under her touch. The closeness they shared, their bodies pressed against each other, sent a thrill through her. He smelled so damn good, hard and bothered for her. The way he responded to her advances only heightened her desire, flaring up a foreign heat in her veins, surpassing even her own natural instincts.

His shaft, long and thick, glided inside her, stealing her a gasp as he filled her in one fluid motion. Pleasure trembled through her, evident in her labored breathing and tightened walls. The barriers of her depths easily acclimated to his divine cock, satisfying even her smallest wishes. It was almost embarrassing to realize how every aspect of him was designed to please her — the texture of his body, the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, his tantalizing scent.

She couldn’t help it and was somehow ashamed of her weakness. Her intimacy clenched at some point, in response to the blows he gave her, the few but deep sounds he made. So securely he gasped at the faint pain before rushing to her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Demanding, needy. He bit and pulled at her lip, pushing his tongue to lick the arch of hers, to suck her teeth, making her vibrate around him.  Had she mentioned that his lips were amazing? Yes, she had, but who cared? She would have repeated over and over again how unworldly they melded with hers in such a sublime way that they would have stunned her if she weren’t for the crazy pheromones already. Aubree didn’t even know who this man was. Her senses tangled, preventing her from recognizing his face or voice, despite a nagging suspicion of familiarity. Her mind sporadically focused before touch or smell overpowered it. Now taste. His lips felt like fresh fruit, sweet and full-bodied. She would have spent hours luxuriating in them, but the impression she was about to burst grew and grew, driving and unbearable.

She moaned uncontrollably as the Na’vi drew back his hips until only the tip rested against her core to thrust again before effortlessly thrusting again. Each new point of contact stung inside her. The avatar felt an insatiable desire to take all of him, to never let go. Her heart filled with euphoria — little bites, caresses, kisses ran through her body, which now smelled like his. She tugged at his hair as he made his way back to her mouth, her wet thighs encircling his waist, her heels nestled in the dimples of Venus. Clinging to him as if the contact of his epidermis, his chest, his arms weren’t enough. She craved more. Their hearts pounded in unison, like furious galloping horses, their passion untamed. “Tsahey, sı`ltsan’efu (oh hell, feels good),” he grunted, his timbre low and gravelly. Kind of a dirty move whispering praise in Na’vi into her ear. His words danced to the tips of her toes from the dull joy it gave her to feel appreciated, as the sound of their frames colliding echoed in the hut, a symphony of lust and devotion. Her cries grew shrill, a melodic chorus that fueled his every thrust. He was so hot, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, as he moved faster, the friction intensified, sending sparks shooting through all of her body. Aubree clasped her legs around his waist, hankering for everything he offered. His grip on her shoulders steadied, his fingers digging into her skin. The force of his thrusts increased, each one hitting her with a mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving red trails in their wake.

The man rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingled; his lukewarm exhales covering her face and his ears full with her gasps. The smell of their passion hung heavy in the small space, a heady mixture of steam and need. He watched her in both ecstasy and disbelief. The sight of such intensity in his gaze overpowered her, but she clung to it, relishing every moment when his dick struck a sensitive bundle of nerves.

As she felt his knot dwell, alpha pheromones crept into her subconscious, drowning her omega in the musky aroma of dominance and submission, an exhilarating fog that pushed her further into surrender. The place seemed to darken as her soul naturally responded to him; her pulse hastening with trepidation. Each frantic gasps for oxygen a struggle against the sweeping emotions. She had no choice but to capitulate, to cry out for him. It felt as if her very DNA had been written to covet him, to lock him inside, but the native held her back, prolonging the exquisite torture.

“That’s not a good idea. It’s your first time.”

A new growl escaped her windpipe, vibrating hungry rage. A rumble that allowed no response, a warning that made him bend his ears back and sink to the point of no return. His stare fixed on her with a longing that knew no bounds. Now only orgasm could free him from her clutches. His expression seemed pained, a flicker of hesitation, but it lasted only a second before the most animalistic and savage sounds she had ever heard rose from the back of his throat. The researcher bit his neck to stifle a moan louder than the others, desperate to repress the burden that threatened to consume him. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop for concern of hurting her. He gasped, his grip on her hips toughening as he plunged more fervently, the rhythmic slapping of their bodies reverberating through the room.

“Don’t ever come out. Stay in forever,” she stammered in confused, fading whimpers. His reaction was harsh, his hips digging with such force that the knot scraped hard against her walls, inducing her to writhe in ecstasy. “Nga tsun ke pawm fula tsonta oe… Nga zir fìtxan tsìltsan (You can’t just ask me that… You feel so amazing).” His voice strained with lust. In response, the woman gyrated her hips even deeper against him, moaning with abandon until he filled her completely. His burning seed spread inside her, as he released a final wave of pheromones that triggered an orgasm so powerful it knocked her unconscious — her frame succumbing to the overwhelming fulfillment that exhausted her. “Are you okay?” He kissed her temple, but she could barely nod, still breathless. “Good.”

Amid that swirling sea of dizzying, carnal lechery, the Na’vi caught a whiff of her enticing trail, drawing him in like a magnetic force. He twisted her neck gently, planting kisses and licks behind her ear, where it released all sorts of fragrances that blended with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Aubree shivered, her skin tingling as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive flesh. The aroma of her essence intensified here, so potent it could dance on his tongue, so tantalizing to explore further.

As he indulged in a small taste, her partner’s presence surged within her; his dick twitched, and automatically her inner walls throb around him. Just as her apprehension grew, fearing his bite, his lips found her ear where he murmured: “Don’t be afraid. I won’t mark you until you ask me to.”

Suddenly, a clarity washed over her, as if the dense intoxication of hormones had dissolved, leaving her lucid in its wake. The researcher pushed her lover away, panic coursing. Her narrowed eyes hinted at a revelation, now that she could finally name the alpha who had guided her in her very first heat, still mating with her with a satisfied and dangerous grin.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. Aubree fought not to close them, but with each blink it became harder and harder to keep them open. She felt his fingertips brush the hair from her face, then caress one cheek as he lowered himself to place a light kiss on her forehead.“Hahaw, ma’uniltı`ranyu. Nga kin ne tsurokx. Tätxaw ngeyä tawtutetokx. Oe veaywng nga kay sìn. (Sleep, my dreamwalker. You need to rest. Return to your human body. I’ll take care of you from now on).”

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

@neteyamssyulang @layla2-49

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you write part3 of stepmother reader? I'm waiting for that!!! ❤️❤️

Yes! omg I'm so sorry this too so long! Thank you for being patient with me💗

König x Stepmother!Reader Part 3 (fem)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

MDNI🔞

Tags: @lhhlver

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, p in v

1.5k word count

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“Mein Sohn, das ist wunderbar!” Irma, König’s mom, exclaims as she hugs you tightly.

König stands with his hands on his hips, a prideful smile on his face. His eyes trace your body up and down. He just broke the news to her that you're engaged. Felix wrote him out of the will and sent you divorce papers. That was his chance to swoop in and take you as his own.

Irma lets go of the hug and looks at you with a wide smile on her face, “I’ve been waiting for him to settle down and make a family!”

“Mama,” König rolled his eyes and chuckles. He’s a fully grown 46-year-old man and his mom still treats him like he’s a child. He knows it’s out of love, so he doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

“Was? Ich bin so glücklich!” Irma laughs, walking to König and pinching his cheeks. He laughs and looks over at you with a blush on his face.

“She still thinks I’m a child.” He chuckles.

“Ja! Natürlich, bist du mein Sohn!” Irma walks to the kitchen, gesturing for you both to follow her. “Setz dich.”

König pulls out a chair for you at a small wooden table in his mom's kitchen. You take a seat and König sits next to you. Irma makes a pot of coffee as she continues to speak.

“So, did you visit your father yet?”

You look over at König, and he looks back at you with a smirk.

“Nein. Why?” He clears his throat.

“I heard he married some 20 something-year-old.” Irma sits at the table with a humored look on her face.

“Hm? Really?” König tries to act surprised.

“They won’t last a year.” Irma laughs, causing you and König to laugh.

The situation was awkward, and you couldn’t wait for the topic of conversation to change. König can see that you’re nervous, so he reaches over and places his hand on your bouncing legs. He gives you a wink and squeezes your thigh lightly.

Irma sees her son acting gentle with you and she can feel the love radiating from him to you. König has only ever had two relationships serious enough to bring home to meet her. Both times, König was standoffish with them. With you, he seems like he can relax. It’s all she’s ever wanted for her baby, König.

“I love how you look at her,” Irma says while watching the two of you.

You smile at her and then look back at König, placing your hand on his.

“How did the two of you meet?” Irma asks innocently, unaware that you’re still currently legally married to her ex-husband and König’s father.

You stare at her for a while, unsure of how you should answer.

“We met through a friend,” König covers quickly. It’s not exactly a lie.

Irma doesn’t question it, she’s just happy to see her son so happy and in love. After spending an entire week with his mom, you both say goodbye. Irma stands in the doorway watching you both get into the car and drive off, a wide smile on her face. You wave to her until she’s out of sight.

“I love her.” You turn to König smiling.

“I’m a lucky man. The perfect partner and sweetest mom.” 

König wraps his large hand around your thigh, squeezing as his gaze shifts from the road to you for a split second. You can see the joy radiating from him, the fact his mom loves you and you love her means the world to him. He lets out a soft hum and nods his head as he drives down the country roads.

His eyes flicker to the GPS that has their ETA on screen. Those forty-five minutes just seem so unbearable. It’s been one week without your body, his mom being Christian, she forced you both to sleep alone. Whenever he would try to slip into your room, you’d turn him down wanting to be respectful of his mother. Slowly he moves his hand further up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up more slightly.

“König, focus on driving.” You look at him with a smirk.

“I can multitask.”

He continues to move his hand up your thigh, feeling you as you adjust your body and spread wider for him. His fingers brush up on the soft fabric of your panties, moving up and down in a teasing manner. There is no way he can possibly make it almost an hour.

König pulls his hand away and turns the car off the road and into the grassy field, turning off his headlights. Once the car is parked, he undoes the seat belt, and leans his seat all the way back. His hands go to his hands to quickly undo them and look over at you.

“Come here.”

“König someone could see.” You say with a light chuckle in his voice, looking around to see the isolated landscape in the darkness of night.

“Who? No one lives here.” He reaches a hand out to you, his pants now down around his knees. “Come ride my cock, Liebling.”

You unbuckle yourself and pull down your panties. As you're about to toss them down, König snatches them from your hands. He instantly puts them up to his nose to smell you. You raise your dress up to your thighs and straddle his body. One foot on either side of him as you grab the car's grab handle above you to help balance yourself.

König reaches up and pulls down the top of your dress to expose your breasts to him in the dim moonlight. His hands cup them, squeezing them gently, causing you to whimper with sensitivity. He just takes it as a sign that your period will start soon.

“Es tut mir Leid.” He whispers as he sits up to gently suck on your left nipple while caressing your right.

His cock twitches underneath your heat, the feeling of your hardened nipple in his mouth causing his excitement to grow more and more. He pulls his head back, grabbing the back of your head to guide your mouth to his. Your lips press against his, eyes closing shut as you lower yourself onto his cock.

The feeling of your cunt swallowing his cock, your wet heat intoxicating him. König leans back in his seat, allowing himself to melt away into pleasure. Your slick cunt glides up and down his length, each time you sit fully on his cock he whimpers out with pleasure. He can’t help but to thrust up and meet your every bounce.

“König…” Your moans sound pathetic as your legs begin to get tired already.

König loves hearing your voice call his name out like that. The fact you are slowing down is no problem as he grabs you, leaning you forward slightly. His hands wrap around the flesh of your supple ass as he thrust up more rapidly.

Your hands reach forward to rest on his chest, feeling his muscles flex under your hands. König watches as your eyes flutter back. Loud pants coming from him as he focuses on making your orgasm before he does. You lean forward, your lips pressing hard against his muffling your own moans.

With four more harsh thrust, you unravel around his cock. You pull away from his lips as you cry out in euphoria. König’s eyes watch you, traveling down to your breasts before looking back up at your face. His voice is soft as he encourages you in German. He can feel his balls tightening, needing to cum.

“May I cum, Liebling.”

“Please.”

With weak wobbly legs you steady yourself, leading forward once more, and moving your ass in a twerking motion. The feeling of your soaking silky walls bouncing around him with all the energy you have left is pure perfection. You’re always dedicated to making sure he feels satisfied.

“Mein Gott, Liebling. You ride my cock so well. Please don’t stop.”

König moves his hands away from your ass so he doesn’t interfere with your rhythm. Letting himself enjoy the show of your breasts bouncing and your face twisted in pleasure. He’s on the brink of orgasm.

“Y/n…” König moans in a deep rumbling groan. “Oh fuck, ja.”

You lower yourself all the way down on your cock, feeling him throb as he releases inside of you. Your lips meet his neck, kissing his pale skin as his hands grab your hips to keep you in place. He doesn’t know how he went a week without your sweet little pussy.

Later at home as you both are naked and getting ready to shower together, as König leans against the wall behind you looking at your breasts in the mirror’s reflection. He’s noticed that your nipples look slightly darker and you’re a little bit chubbier now, not that he minds at all. He just knows what it looks like.

“Liebling,” König walks up behind you and moves his hands around the front of you before cupping your breast with his large hands. His pointer and thumb finding your nipples and toys with your nipples.

“Hm?” You rest your body back on his and enjoy the feeling. Your eyes find him in the reflection.

“You know I love you so much?” He kisses the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

Part 4

[bear-remn]

Girl, I’m addicted to your blog! It’s so creative and captivating; I can feel the vibrant energy between the characters. It’s truly rewarding to have so many brilliant artists in the fandom <3

I can’t wait to see a headcanon about Subaru; I think I’m going to die when that moment arrives.

(I'm sorry for any inconsistencies; my english isn't the best yet, and I sometimes need help :T)

— subaru headcanons!

omg ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ ty so much for your kind words! i felt appreciated reading it so thanks for making my day! youre such a sweetheart, ty again for support my blog and my art (๑´>᎑<)~*

here i bring subaru, and it was a little more difficult than with the rest of the sakamakis, maybe bc i dont get most of subarus actions, i think he is the one with more inconcistencias in his development so i hope i dont dissapoint with it, he is so difficult but so easy at the same time im going crazy.

tw: this post contains nsfw (+18)!!! if you dont like that content dont read it!

i spent so much time drawing this and it was so worth it, and i really was a little off with drawing him angry or neutral so i draw him with two cute little smiles, i also hated his hair during sketching this, fk desing, but i love it so much ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

his looks and selfcare

i think subaru is very handsome, like his brothers, but he dont know it, he dont realize how good looking he is. i can imagine subaru being constantly approached by his classmates, both woman and men, but since he ghe way he is, his appearance got overpowered by his personality.

i also think, maybe a little too out of the clue but, i think subaru face most of the time is like a little angry, without realizing it, his eyebrows furrow giving an angry image, even if he is not, it is like his face of rest. angry rest face.

i think subaru is very similar to his mother, but with the structure of his father, i imagine subaru with slanted eyes, a straight nose, and his strong jaw makes his face come together so well. i like to think subaru has a gentle gaze, not a killer one like ayato, maybe bc he is constantly on his past and feels pity for another living being, something in between.

i think subaru has one of the most hipnotizing eyes, not like his brothers tho. i like to think he is has more the kind of eyes shu has, like a deep color and with a fixed expression. i like to think they, shu and subaru, are very alike even if they have different mothers.

i belive subaru is the kind of man that don't sweat much, even so, i do think subaru likes to shower often, i think he is more into long hot boiling baths, and if he is more stress than normal, he totally is gonna ask for ayatos bath bombs or so, dont like candles tho. and i also think sometimes he fell asleep during some baths.

i think subaru might like sweet scents even if he deny it, he loves sweet smells. maybe a good vanilla or a coconut one, but i do see him liking sweet fruits, such as strawberries, peaches, and apples. specially peaches. he likes it on his shampoo, his conditiones, his bar soap and even the liquid soap for hands. but not on perfume.

i think subaru likes more mint, lemon or so when it comes to perfume.

oh, i think subaru also has more of straight hair than curly hair, you know when a part of your is more curly or has more volume than another part? thats subarus hair for sure, so he tends to make it even by brushing it.

i think subaru's body is... very very... like... hot you know? like he is tall and more thick than his brothers, with a wide back and shoulders. i also love imagine subaru with big arms and his forearms?? his hands?? just thick. very strong and definetly has veins in his arms without making an effort. and as shu, he also as a thick waist and a very strong and gooooood looking v line. and also has a happy trail. i mean. do you imagine him shaving often? his beautiful silver hair? no, he doesnt shave too much.

i think subaru, as rare as it might sound, gets hair on his chest, that hair he shaves it, but the hair of the rest of his body not too much, and its not visible either. like, white hair on his pale skin? not on easy sight.

oh, and he also has thick fingers and his nails are pretty avegare, but for some reason the nail of his pinky grows faster than the others, so he thens to bite that one.

and about his style, i do belive subaru only likes basics and neutrals clothes, but don't like to feel things around his neck, it get on his nerves, dont like oversize clothes either.

and to finish, subaru is like his two olders brothers and can't grow a hole beard, subaru shaves it right away when he sees a little bit of hair, makes him feel old too.

random stuff

to start off with this man. i have some thought on his behavior. like have you guys seen how jelaous he is? he is maybe the most childish one out the sakamakis when it comes to jealousy. and thats canon for me.

but i do see him being very passive aggressive with the people he enjoys to hang out, like if you are with him and you ask him for a pencil, he will just say no and then pass it to you. and with a dead ass angry face. no reason for it. or if you ask him a favor he will say "fuck off" and then do it.

i hate the fact of subaru not having not one single fucking hobby, wtf?? i dont belive it. i do think he might have tried stuff and just dont get too into it. but not every hobby, like maybe reading existencial poetry or even drawing or painting, i do see him as a artist kind of guy lol. i imagine subaru in his teen years, some time has passed since his mother died, and he always tries to paint in oil white roses, just to keep her mother in his mind but he hates it so much he destroys every stencil he makes.

i also think he might have tried to draw animals in the woods close to the manor but the animals moved so much he got frustrated and never tried again.

and maybe, a little sad, but he hates to cry, so he just let his tears fall from his eyes and bites on his lips to not make a sound, he will hate his brotheres to see him cry.

i think, subaru used to bite his nails, thinking and trying to understand his mother but at his age it was so confusing for him. and the hate just for seeing his father will make him bites on his fingers as well. he was very anxious in his childhood and no one, even when he tried to get close to the triples bc he wanted to play with them, he was left apart, so he never felt a part of anything, but i do belive subaru still want to be a real brother even if he dont know how to.

i think, even if subaru says otherwise, subaru likes spicy food, like hot flaming food, likes how it feels in his troat.

i also think he is more into weight lifting, thats why his body is more thick than his brothers that does another kind of excersize.

and as ayato, always feels anxious when is close to something religios, just feels weird and ridiculous for him. church's specially.

and i like to think, i know he will do it, when subaru can't sleep he taps the wood of his coffin whith his fingers on the beat on songs, like really soft and just for him to hear. eventually his fingers will stop bc he fall asleep.

or if he is bored he definetly play with his knife, like when the moonlight is bright on his window room. subaru will take his knife out and reflect the light on the silver, playing a little with it. sometimes he does this with his brothers when they are in the garden just minding their bussiness, making the little light come into their eyes and then hiding behind the curtains in his room. can't laugh, either way his brothers will know he was the one messing with them.

nsfw

ok, so.... his dick....

i belive, on my knees, that he always have the same size, like, you know meat team? yea... that. i see him as a good 18 cm, its thick and heavy, his balls too, the man is just a little too big for his own good. also has two prominent veins coming from his crocht to the tip, wich is a pretty soft salmon color. he keeps some hair but not too long, just enough to have a slight happy trail of his silver hair.

i think subaru is definetly a dominant, but not a harsh one, something like a service dom, he don't mind if you are on top or start things, but do likes to have most control of situations. but he don't seek a too submissive partner either, he wants you to desire it as much as he does. bc he does.

i think subaru is not good at flirting so much... i mean, i have to say it, subaru is rather shy when it comes to romance, basically bc he thinks he does'nt deserve any kind of love or affection, so yea, kinda difficult. so i think his way to show you he cares for you or is interested in you is quality time, like, i imagine subaru hanging out with you and just listening to whatever you're saying, and talking for him really makes him more interested for you, he is not the kind of guy that will see first your looks, it has not a single one bit of appeal for your body at first. and definetly he will not make the firts move, and im not talking about kissing, i am talking about fucking holding hands. yes.

and when he is feeling more confortable with you, subaru will start to checking you out, like watching your legs when you cross them, even if you have pants, the man is intriged. or if you have your hair up he cannot take his eyes off your neck, he really craves your physical touch. and if you catch him looking at you he will simply mess with you "what? im not watching you, just a fly pass by" yea he's that.

in other ocasions if he smells a change of scent due your perfume, he will get close to you but not enought to touch your skin "peaches? uh... not bad i suppose" but the man is obsessed.

and when the times come, when you kiss him subaru is a little taken aback but will hold you close and look into your eyes "are you sure? if you get involved with me, you will never go back to your old life, think wise or else you'll end up like me" but ofc, you choose him.

since that moment, he will bite you more often, but more gentle and hold you more close to his body, i imagine him biting your neck and drinking a little of you blood to then lick the wounds and kiss them so they can heal better, his kisses go up until his lips reach yours.

oh and his kisses? omg.

but before talking of subaru kisses, i have to say this.

i think subaru is very... like, into physical touch but in a more intimate way of, like very sutile and mature. idk but. i imagine subaru hanging out with you, maybe watching a movie and if the pose while sitting fit. subaru will have one of his hands caressing you back under your shirt. like not sexually intended, just likes to feel your skin every chance he gets. and don't put his nails againts your back bc he know you may get ghostbumps. he definetly is more of a back guy than a boob or ass man.

and if the moment pops out, and you're sitting in subaru's lap, he will touch your belly gently while resting his head on your shoulder. he loves that kind of contact with you, it means a lot to him.

and if youre using a loose shirt he have more freedom to touch as he wish, and... im losing it.

subaru in some moment will get heated by your body, since vampires can't produce body heat like humans, and will mess with you for that, but in a different way you may think "lean more againts me... your back is more hot when you're on my lap huh... don't you dare to get up" his lips are in your nape, gently kissing it while touching your belly. and if youre moving too much on top of him he might get a little bit worked up. so he will take you by your jaw and make you face him for a wet kiss.

he is'nt much of words in those moments, for him, your eyes say everything he needs to know. so... his kisses.

little detail about subaru, i dont think he will do anything with someone he is'nt truly interested, i mean, really into you, so he is'nt dry or something like that, he is very much passionate about everything he does to you and with you.

so now, his kisses, finally.

subaru likes soft and tender smooches, i see him always trying to kiss you or give you a little peck, ofc when you two are alone, dont like to make things in front of people. don't put on a show. so when the kiss gets hotter, subaru will gently bite on your lip and explore with his tongue your mouth, slowly and with no rush. feeling how hot your tongue is really makes him moan a little into your mouth, can't control his hands when your body is so hot compared to his. loves it.

so, back to the lap situation. subaru will go straight into a wet kiss, sucking on your tongue and pressiong his croch into your ass while squeezing your thigh. his breath in your lips as you hold on his strong arms, feeling how he control himself. subaru will bite your little tongue on his mouth as his hands go to hold gently your tits "ya want it? wanna go to bed or..?" and yes... he tries to be as gentle with you as he can.

i think subaru likes to carry you to bed or his coffin, likes to get your scent into it so he can sleep better later, but can't deny the bed is more confortable.

but sometimes, when the situation is more desesperate, like after a walk or a public event, he will pin you down on the floor and start kissing and biting your neck and chest "you wanted this huh? dont act dumb on me, you know what you do to me" and his hungry eyes for you will melt you completly, subaru with needy eyes is dangerous.

i think subaru don't really likes to put nicknames on you, for him the pretty name of yours feels like sweet honey on his mouth to say, so he definetly calls you by your name always. but sometimes he feels freaky and likes to call you his good girl.

and sometimes while taking off your clothes he rips them apart but not intencionally "fuck, sorry hun, this stupid fabric always gets on the way... i'll buy you a new one, a better one... or maybe you should stay like this in bed forever hehe... " and since subaru is good and nice, he is a service dom.

i think subaru enjoys to make you suffer for his mouth every chance he gets, and he got to know your body so well that he knows how to make you tremble.

subaru loves eating you out, feeling your thighs trembles and holding around his head is everything for him. subaru will lick, suck and kiss your clit, not giving attention to any other part of you body, your climax will be more late but more intense. subaru moans while eating it, hold one of you legs with one hand while the other is holding your hand, feeling how you grip his big fingers and thick knucles. after you cum he don't stop, he will lick clean every part that is wet around your pussy. his chin and lips shiny from your liquids "what? want a taste? hehe" oh, and his eyes? omg his beautiful eyes look hipnotized by your body, watching into your eyes with a gentle yet intense gaze of desire. omfg.

and if you suck him off i imagine him seated and you in your knees, taking his dick in your mouth is kinda of a challenge, bc the man in a little too thick for your little mouth, and he tries not to push you but everything about you is so hot, literally, he sometimes is afraid you may burn him with you body "dont push yourself too much... yes... that's good... youre being such a good girl" but don't like to cum on your face, he has another plans for that.

i think subaru likes to make you cum on his fingers as well, and since his fingers are thick and long enough he easily abuse your g-spot so many times until you cum again, will lick his fingers to then start touching himself as you position yourself for him.

and about positions, i think he is rather simple sometimes but if hes feeling it, might do the pose where he is standing and you're holding in the air with your legs around his waist and your hands in his shoulders. ofc he has the strenght and the size so... yea. in that position subaru is the one in full control, holding you by your butt cheeks making you move up and down on his trobing dick, and your pussy feels so good in that positions, tight and so fucking wet for him. some of your liquids fall to his legs but he can't care less, he is too inmerse in how your jaw drop in every thrust, how your eyes look into his with a needy look and your pink cheeks shine under the soft moonlight "who's my good girl huh?... yes you are... fuck... ya' better milk me good ah.." and feeling how you tighten around him makes his hands hold you more rough and fuck you hard. the wet noises with your moans and his horny grunts makes the air hot to breath, almost like a sauna, your only body heat was enough to make everything around burn in desire.

another position can be reverse coswgirl, but again, he is the one moving your body, not completly tho. i imagine subaru gasping hard while watching how you move your hips and back to have a better access to a deep conection. oh and subaru? he has to bite his bottom lip for how good you look from behind, your back is everything to him and his abs contract at the mere sight of the curvature of your back. his pace become erratic for it. he goes hard and his voice grunts a little over how fast and hard he is pushing into you, eventually subaru push your face into the matress in all four and fuck you until he cums in your back, to then put it in again and slap your ass "wanna rematch? haha" he jokes, not entirely tho.

i also think if you two got into a second round, he will let you have more control than before, will let you ride him as much as you wanted to, but facing you. and he is all into your face expressions. loves to see how your jaw drops and your eyes go blank for some seconds. his hands will squeeze your tits that bounce a little and play with your nipples, loves to make them hard. subaru's eyes sometimes will look how you move your hips, in circles or from back to front or even bouncing a little. he finds your body cute in a sexy way, its little compared by his size, and your little efforts really put a smile in his face.

oh, i also belive subaru likes when you dig your nails into his skin, any part of it, his back, his arms, his abs or his chest, he likes that a lot.

and when you both cums he will do it inside you, feeling how you milk him makes subaru not to pull out never, he is so in love of how your body heat burns every part of him.

"you did good... c'me here... my good girl did so good..."

finally, the aftercare is nice and calm, sweet too. subaru will cuddle you hiding his face in your chest, while he hugs you and tap on your back gently, like he does to his coffin before going to sleep, he wants you to relax as much as he does with that little finger tap he does.

"i love you..."

── more of my content here!

[thepersonnamedsam]

Hey! Can I request prompt #1 with Charles Leclerc? Like I can totally see him being a little confused and goofy in a steamy situation lol

seduction gone wrong - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: in where charles tried to seduce you and it goes horribly wrong

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut with a plot, p in v (wrap it before you tap it, kids), oral (f. and m. receiving), alcohol drinking, some blood (-play idk), aftercare, minors dni, thank you :)

prompt: „do you want me to seduce you?“

note: sorry love, that you had to wait so long for your request, but here it is, hope you like it

and omg, thank you so much for 500 followers, i never thought i would reach that many people with my silly little stories. i am forever grateful for all of you, i mean it! <3

masterlist/ taglist / prompt list

It was a long day and you were tired, unbelievable tired. Everything sucked and nothing went the way you wanted it to. You just wanted to come home and have a good time with Charles, your boyfriend.

Your neck ached, your back hurt and all you wished for was a massage and an orgasm. But Charles, the man he was, didn’t really understand your wish.

You opened the door and smelled the food Charles probably ordered. He knew how to cook but mostly opted to deliver food to your home. „Charles, love, I’m home“, you announced yourself as you took off your shoes and jacket.

„In the kitchen“, he yelled back at you and you went to greet your boyfriend. He was standing there, with his back leaned against the kitchen island, looking devilishly handsome. You almost purred as your hands grinned his broad shoulders and gave him a quick, but meaningful kiss.

„Hey baby, how was your day?“, he asked you. At the thought of your day, the mood was ruined. „Ugh, it was the worst“, you whined and hoped Charles would grab on to your appeal. But with your lucky day, he didn’t. „Is it a glass of wine kinda day?“, he asked you, eyebrows raised. You sighed, no, it was a fuck me till i can’t walk kinda day, you thought.

Charles didn’t wait for your answer and opened the fridge to open you a bottle of white wine. The glass was already propped on the counter and he filled it to the brim. You were thankful for all the things he did for you, but you wished he would just the hint you were giving him.

„Thank you, chéri.“ You gave him a quick peck and took a large sip of your wine. He rubbed your shoulders and you moaned, just a tiny one, but you still did. But Charles didn’t register the moan and carried on.

„I ordered Chinese, are you hungry?“ - „A bit, yes. Thank you, Charlie.“

The plates were already on the table, so was the takeout bag. You took your glass to the table and sat down at your usual spot. He ordered himself some fried rice with chicken and for you some dumplings.

You weren’t talking during dinner, but he was telling you about his day - training, some time in the simulator, he met up with his race engineers and did a fitting for a new seat. His day was way better than yours.

The food didn’t help your needs and desires. You still wanted that orgasm and his mouth on yours. So you took matters into your own hands. „Charles, you look really good today“, you complimented him and batted your eyelids. „Thank you, amour, you too“, he said with a cheerful voice.

„Charles, I want something from you“, you whispered. You looked into his beautiful eyes and tried to look as sexy as possible. „What do you want?“ How can one man be so oblivious? „Charles, I need something from you.“ - „Mhm, yeah, you told me that. But I can’t do anything until you tell me what it is?“

You bit your lip, you loved him, really, he was the love of your life, but right at this moment, you could’ve kicked him to the moon. „Charles?“ - „Yes?“ - „I need you.“ You let out a breathy moan. Your voice quiet and shaky you look at him with lust in your eyes.

„Do you want me to seduce you?“

„That’s exactly what I want, Charles“, you thanked him and he grinned. He left the table and wanted to make his way over to you but in the heat of the moment he didn’t see your wine glass and pushed it over with his arm. The wine spilled all over the table and the floor and the glass broke in millions of pieces. Charles hurried to clean up the mess and crouched down to pick up the pieces. But you were too hungry for him to stop his mission.

You grabbed him by his shirt and said: „I don’t care about some spilled wine, I’d rather you make me overflow like that.“

You licked over your lips and he kissed you. He still tasted the white wine on your lips and groaned into the kiss. „Charles, I really need you“, you told him. He pursed his lips, he tried to be dominant and seductive, but with his luck he cut his hand trying to stand up. He hissed and immediately put his hand into his mouth.

But you were sick, rather than being worried about him you imagined his mouth against your pussy, sucking and licking as he did right now to stop the blood from dropping onto the floor. You took his hand to your mouth and sucked the blood and kissed the wound. „Now can we finally go to the bedroom?“

Charles was star struck, amazed by you. How can one woman be so perfect, so perfect for him? You were the love of his life.

On the way to your bedroom your clothing fell and he was on his way to do the same. Naked on your bed you waited for the love boy to devour you. „Bébé, wait a minute, I just need to find a condom“, he shouted from the hallway. You groaned, „Charles, please, I just need you, I don’t care about a silly condom, put a baby in me anyway.“

It just came out of you, did you actually want a baby from him? Yes, but certainly not now. Charles didn’t catch the phrase anyway, too caught up in still searching for a condom. He gave up shortly after that.

His naked torso and his v-line made you sweat. You pressed your thighs together to gain some friction. If Charles didn’t give you any attention, you had to do it yourself.

You fingers in your mouth to wet them some, even though you were already drenched. They trailed down your body, your mouth opened, a shaky breath released. Your index finger circled your right nipple. Occasionally pinching it. Charles was still focused on something else. „Don’t start without me, chérie“, he absently whispered, head turned to the ground.

You giggled and that’s when he finally looked up, your fingers in your pussy, pumping in and out. Your thumb pressed to your clit. He gasped. How could you start without him? Traitor. He walked up to you with lustful eyes. He crawled to your body and removed your fingers from your pussy.

You heard him inhale your scent. Suddenly you felt him lick a stripe up your pussy. You moaned his name, surprised by his sudden horniness. His mouth still on you, sucking and licking. Your clit inside his mouthy His fingers gripping your thighs, half moons left on your skin. He teased you. You felt his light beard scratch your inner thigh, his hands now snaked they’re way around to your ass and squeezed it. „Charles please“, you moaned, you wanted some release.

He suddenly stopped and smirked up to you. You threw your head back. His trousers were gone in an instant, so were his boxers. His tip was red and swollen. Leaking with pre cum it never looked more delicious. „Baby“, you looked him up and down, „let me please taste you.“

On your stomach now, you licked a stripe up from his belly up to his tip. His shaft thick and pulsating, you couldn’t wait to feel it in your mouth. His pre cum was licked up by you and it tasted salty and just like Charles. You moaned. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside. Hollowing your cheeks you swallowed him whole. His head was thrown back and he groaned, loud.

Your head bobbed up and down his dick. Feeling him twitch and pulsate was your favourite feeling all time. He grabbed your hair and held you down, so you were deep throating him. „Stop, mon dieu my god, I want to be inside you“, he groaned and pulled you off his cock.

As you rearranged and dipped into your wet and warm folds he moaned. And you moaned. „Let them all hear who makes you feel so good, ma chérie“, he whispered into your ears. His rhythm fast and deep. He hit your spot every thrust. You were in heaven, your bad day long forgotten.

He pushed down onto your lower abdomen and said: „I can feel myself, look how good I fill you up, feel it.“ That gave you the rest. The tight know that formed in your stomach exploded and you came with Charles name in your mouth. Soon after Charles came too, after he helped you ride out your orgasm.

He held you in his arms, softly stroking over your naked skin. He got up and brought you a cold glass of water and a lukewarm cloth to clean you up. Slowly he cleaned you up, from head to toes. When he was finished, he kissed you slowly and with lots of emotion.

„I love you, dear“, you whispered and kissed him again. „I love you much more, chérie“, he said and closed his eyes, holding you.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur

[ghostheartfelt]

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for  the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure 

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another. 

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives. 

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours. 

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest. 

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat. 

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.” 

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost 

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart. 

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver. 

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes. 

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours. 

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.  

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this. 

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home. 

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat. 

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.” 

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days. 

All you do is work, eat, and sleep. 

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably. 

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell. 

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you. 

“There’s someone else.”  His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off. 

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog. 

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up. 

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately. 

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now. 

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face. 

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you. 

You just wanted him home. 

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore. 

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind. 

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away. 

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest. 

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door. 

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water. 

She’s showering. 

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside. 

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice. 

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs. 

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation. 

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine. 

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table. 

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly. 

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs. 

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs. 

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice. 

“Does wh–” 

“Does she know you are here, Simon.” 

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together. 

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern. 

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed. 

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains. 

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head. 

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance. 

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…” 

“Please…never do that again.” 

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs. 

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent. 

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt. 

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed. 

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud. 

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?” 

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you. 

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you. 

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger. 

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck. 

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. 

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.” 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists. 

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach. 

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…” 

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.” 

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him 

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.” 

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you. 

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.” 

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs. 

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him. 

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…” 

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind. 

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?” 

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.” 

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge. 

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted. 

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…” 

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion. 

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.  

[angelskills]

can we please have a college au! Suguru who takes interest in a girl from a different department and he keeps trying to find her and talk more but she doesnt let it? Or disappears for weeks together untul he next sees her?

a/n: omg this is so creative?! i haven't tried writing a suguru fanfic ever, so this will be a challenge, and i love challenges :D, thank you so much for the request! if you want something else, pls lmk, also thank you sm for 200+ likes on my last post, also, i kind of switch the names between geto and suguru, and gojo and satoru. this may not be the best fanfic but if you want something else, pls pls request, i want to write something that you actually want :)) !

Out of Reach

warnings: pw/p(p0rn with plot), tipsy sex, he doesnt pull out (birth control dw), clit stimulation, p in v, vaginal fingering

credits: @hopelesslygaysstuff for the 18+ header

characters: you, Shoko, gojo, geto,

intro: geto notices you for the first time in the library while he is with his friends

Geto had his eyes on you for a long, long time. But, you never noticed. He always tried to find you around campus and talk to you. But, he never could. Geto first noticed you at the library when he was with Gojo. You happened to be with Shoko, who is one of his close friends.

Something about you really stood out to him. He never really knew why, but he took an interest in you. He is lazy, but he would chase you around the campus to try and catch up to you, but it never really worked out. You both had different majors, meaning you would be in different departments. He majored in humanities while you majored in computer science.

Geto thought about you all day long, he didn't want to but couldn't stop thinking about you. You were pretty, with a cute smile, and you were smart. How did Geto know? Well, he may or may not have texted Shoko about you. He lays in bed every night, hoping to get the chance to talk to you one day.

That man was so happy. He actually started smiling when Shoko told him you would be at Gojo's party in his apartment. He was excited to finally be able to have a proper conversation with you that doesn't have him running around campus, slipping like 10 times to catch up to you. Who knows why he was so crazy about you?

It was finally Friday night. Geto always hangs out at Gojo's house and helps prepare the drinks and food whenever there is a party. Geto was yapping on and on about you and how it's so hard to talk to you as he was laying out the plastic plates on the table and ordering the food. Gojo was so annoyed with that man, "Just get her number and text her, dude."

Geto seems like an overall confident person, but when it came to you, he was nervous, he didn't wanna make a weird first impression. "You don't get it." He sighed, sitting on the sofa, "You think she might like me?"

"No, fuck no." Gojo laughed, "You're scared to even approach her, pussy."

"I try to catch up to her."

"Try harder."

Geto rolled his eyes and cussed under his breath. But, it was the truth. He was trying, of course. But whenever he caught up to you, he would chicken out and just, not.

Gojo heard a knock on his door. They both looked at each other and looked at the clock, it wasn't time for the party yet.

Well, guess it was.

He opened the door and saw a bunch of his classmates and friends just come in with bottles of vodka and tequila. Screaming and singing. More and more people came in. You could say almost the entirety of the college students were there, except you and Shoko. G

Geto was in a corner while Gojo had girls all over him. He kept on texting Shoko and spamming her to get here faster.

Meanwhile you and Shoko...

"Hurry up, Y/N, please!" Shoko whined, lying down on the couch, replying to Geto's text.

"Sorry, wait!" You yelled from the bathroom, applying mascara on your lashes.

You wore a cheetah print top with flared jeans and a rhinestone belt. You brushed your hair, thinking about the party, obviously you know Gojo, he's really popular afterall. He was always with this guy. Tall, muscular, and he looked tired all the time. You finally finished getting ready, putting on your necklace and earrings and stepped out of the bathroom.

Shoko complimented you and you guys took a few pictures together. You both put on your shoes and legit rushed out. Trying to find a cab to get to Gojo's place. You were excited, because this was your first ever party, especially in college. Even though you're a sophomore, you avoided parties a lot because you focused on your grades too much. After becoming friends with Shoko, you let loose a bit and finally agreed to go to a party.

Shoko was talking about Geto as you both got in the cab and you couldn't recognize his name. She showed you a picture and you finally realized that was the Geto Shoko was always talking about. You couldn't even deny it, that man was fine, but you didn't say anything.

After a while of asking Shoko for more pictures of Geto and staring at his pictures as if he were the most beautiful man ever, you finally reached Gojo's place. You and Shoko got out of the car, and you were out here taking deep breaths because you were nervous about the party. As you both walked towards Gojo's door, Shoko was reassuring you that everything would be fine and parties weren't that big of a deal.

The door was open, damn. That man was really fearless.

You walked in with Shoko, astounded by how big Gojo's apartment really was. Geto noticed you and Shoko, letting out a sigh of relief because truly, he was worried sick thinking YOU(not Shoko) got in an accident and died. He finished his glass of beer and started walking towards you. Then, Shoko dragged you off to somewhere else, giving you a tour of Gojo's apartment. Geto clenched his fists, muttering out a bunch of fuck you's to Shoko.

Geto finally managed to catch up to you and Shoko, finding you guys hanging with Satoru. You looked at Geto, finally realizing that man was even finer in real life. You gave him a warm smile, before turning back to Gojo.

Geto's face nearly turned red. Did you just smile at him? He couldn't believe it.

"Hear me out, let's play beer pong." Satoru smirked, setting up the plastic cups. It was an upside-down triangle laid on the table.

You looked at Shoko, nodded, and helped pour the beer into the plastic.

You guys played beer pong for a while, switching some of the cups with beer and then tequila and vodka.

Satoru and Shoko were drunk as fuck and out like a light, you and Geto were only a bit tipsy because you both were actually good at the game and meanwhile, Gojo and Shoko sucked ass with their angles.

It was like, 3 a.m., and Satoru and Shoko were still out. You and Geto were sitting on the couch, talking and he confessed about how he always chased you around campus and tried to talk to you, but he always chickened out. You laughed at that, but on the inside, you were screaming. A man, like him, took an interest, in YOU? You talked about how you kept begging Shoko for pictures of him because you thought he was so cute.

There was some tension between you two. You both basically just confessed your feelings at this point. You laughed it out, trying your best not to create awkwardness between you two.

But, he didn't care. Whether it was awkward or not, all he cared was being there with you. Just you being present makes him happy.

He put his hand on your cheek, getting closer to your face, making sure you're comfortable before pulling you into a deep kiss.

You didn't know how it got to this point. From you and Geto laughing at each other, to a bit of making out, and then to you being carried to the guest bed.

He placed you on the bed gently, pulling you into a kiss as his fingers ran down your chest to your waistband, slowly pulling your jeans off. Your heart was beating out of your chest. All of this happened in a flash. He slid your top up so your bra would be exposed. You could feel the dampness in your panties from just seeing him like this. He kissed down your neck to your stomach. His hand slid under your panties, slowly rubbing small circles on your clit. You bucked your hips, trying to squirm away but his hand on your waist kept you in place.

He inserted a finger inside you, catching you off guard. You arched your back slightly, your body squirming as you let out noises. To him, your voice was like a melody, let alone noises. He wanted to get more out of you. He slid another finger in, your wetness making it easier for him. His fingers were so thick, you were almost scared about what his dick would feel like. His fingers curled right against your g-spot, you let out a loud moan, your toes curling as you gripped his shoulder, "S-suguru..." you whimpered. He swore he almost came in his pants after hearing you whimper his name like that. He pulled out his fingers, sliding your panties off.

He inserted his fingers right back inside of your hole. Stretching you out to make you prepared. You gulped as you shut your eyes, moaning as his fingers hit your sweet spot every time he pulled his fingers in and out. He unzipped his pants with his free hand, pulling down his boxers and lining his member to your entrance.

You almost screamed when you saw how long it was. You weren't even sure if it could fit or not. "Say the safeword when you want me to stop, green." He said as he slid his length inside of you, trying his best to be gentle but your pussy felt so good around his dick, he had to hold himself back from cumming right there.

You moaned, "Hngh... s-suguru... please...". He looked you in the eyes, "Please what?" He smirked, his fingers crawled to your clit.

You buried your head in his shoulder, "S-start moving, please." you gulped, you felt so full you thought you would just pass out if he started moving. From this moment on, he loved seeing you be shy in bed, he thought it was so cute especially since it was, you.

His hand grabbed your waist to keep you in place as he started thrusting inside of you. His free hand rubbed small fast circles on your clit, making your eyes roll back from the overwhelming pleasure. His dick hitting your sweet spot and him rubbing your clit at the same time.

"T-too much, too much!" You whined, throwing your back as you felt your orgasm coming. Your hands wrapped around Suguru's neck. It was almost impossible to keep yourself quiet and you were almost screaming but he wasn't complaining at all.

Within minutes, you milked his cock, creating a ring around it. Your pussy clenched around Suguru's cock, "H-holy shit", he groaned. Your toes curled as he sped up his pace, his thick cock kissing your cervix with each thrusts. After a few moments, he filled you with his cum to the brim, painting your walls white as thick ropes of cum spurted out.

He pulled out as he collapsed onto you, but making sure he doesn't put all of his weight. You put your hand on his cheek, smiling before giving him a kiss.

After a few moments, he picked you up to carry you to the shower, helping you clean up.

The very next day, you couldn't even walk.