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kaira-diaries · 6 months

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The Colonel’s Sister:

Note: one shot is also available on Wattpad under my account Kairadiaries for those who prefer it.

Warning: smut / fluff / language / wounds / blood

Pairing: Javi x f!character

Summary: she's Carrillo's sister, and off limits, until Javier thinks otherwise.

••••

My brother's lesson consisted of standing in the blistering heat for hours with my hands rolled into fists, bruised from a punching bag. Throughout it, he silently critiqued my form and stood with his arms crossed in authority. One two, I counted to memorize his instructions on the combos he was reluctant to share with me.

I made the mistake of asking if he'd caught Escobar yet. The answer was no, as the anger erupted between his clenched teeth. My older brother scowled at me the way he would as the colonel of the DEA. I still remember the day he was promoted to the job. Mama had been crying and squeezing him in hugs tighter than he could handle. My fingers poked at his uniform as I laughed at how ridiculous he looked, but he always made it a point to educate me on what an honor it was to become a colonel. He wears that same uniform now with no detectable expressions on his face. I rolled my eyes and limped over to the nearest chair I could find.

"Tell me something, Horacio. You look like a knob just standing there." I snickered. Knob. I'd just learned that word yesterday at the embassy.

I lick the sweat from my upper lip and empty the rest of my water bottle. He exhaled through his nose and went to open his mouth, but his wristwatch chimed. 8:00. I had guessed. Hours at the embassy were flat-out exhausting. Though, I'm only a receptionist. Despite rising at such early hours for my brother's lessons, it still hasn't gotten any easier.

"We should go." He said and disappeared into the apartment.

***

I hadn't gotten many calls today, and it was exhilarating.

Flipping to the next page of my novel, I sip on some much-needed coffee. It burns my tongue, and I groan at the burning sensation.

"You still haven't learned, huh?" I turn my head to find Murphy. He holds an orange folder stuffed with papers.

With a lopsided grin, I say, "I guess not."

He trades with me. I now have the nightmare of a folder, and he sips from the coffee mug. "What's Peña up to?" I ask, and he raises a suspicious brow. Exhaling through his mouth, he said

"Oh, you know, out, gathering information." His scrunched mouth confirms the worse. "How does the colonel feel about that?" I pick up the nearest pen and tap it against the desk. A shrug was all he gave.

"I don't know, you tell me? He's your brother." Horacio knows damn well what Peña has been up to but doesn't care to act on it. I've even called him on it, seeing it unfit to allow an agent to sleep around for information. I shrugged back when the double doors flew open to reveal peña. It was an effort not to roll my eyes at his appearance. The chocolate brown hair on his head was ruffled to hell, along with the wrinkled mess that was his maroon shirt. I leaned back in my seat.

"Jesus, you can't keep it in your pants, can you?" Peña unveiled a devious smirk and threw it in my direction.

"If it gets us what we need and keeps me young." I swallowed in disgust, and Murphy patted him on the shoulder. My brows raised, and I scoffed, standing from the chair to file the folder Murphy had given me. Checking the clock on my desk, my heart excites at quitting time.

My brother had promised to bring back my favorite allergy free dessert from his business trip today. I could already taste the sweetness as I smiled and grabbed my purse.

Tuning in to the boy's conversation, Peña was in the middle of sharing his recent sexual activity with yet another woman. I mimicked a vomit sound and pushed my way between them. "You're a pig." I spat and strolled out the doors, thinking that was the end of it.

My heels hit the concrete of the sidewalk when he stepped beside me. I gasped, jumping back. "That was quite the insult." He intercepted me.

I pulled my purse closer to me. "You have no sense of self-control or respect." I grab my car keys and unlock the doors, circling him. "You're wrong." He disagrees.

"I have a lot more than you think I do." With that, his eyes darken, and his jaw clenches. I feel trapped between him and my car as a hand reaches up to stroke my glossed, pouty lips. Lucky for me, I break from the trance and shove him back.

"I'd suggest Lisa as your new subject for your kinky fuckery. I heard she likes to sleep around." I threw myself into my car and sped off, leaving him there and not looking back.

***

I laid in bed that night, stomach full of the yummy dessert my brother had gotten me, and thought of Peña. My lips still stung from the lingering kiss of his fingers, and I had wondered why he'd done it.

It's no secret that the man is handsome, with strength in his appearance and confidence in his tone. He was the golden boy of the embassy and sought after by women of all ages and wanted for jobs by other businesses, despite how..flawed his tactics were. I'd asked him why he never took the better offers, but he only shrugged the question off his shoulders. I stopped believing the dismissive answers when I saw his clenched fists and frigid breaths. There was a reason; he was just so reluctant to tell me or anyone.

Blowing a caramel strand of hair from my face, I sit up, having an idea.

An hour later, I sat in a nightclub. Drinks and laughter filled every corner with gleaming happiness as I smiled at the sight of the glowing strangers that'd find love on the dance floor. A tinge of jealousy stabbed at my chest, and I sipped down the rest of my drink.

I hadn't registered the movement of my legs that carried me onto the dance floor and into the arms of a tall and handsome stranger. The red dress I had chosen tightened as my breaths increased once we set the pace. The man's eyes were blue, his hair black and long. I crumbled into his arms as his hands seduced my body. It was like electricity that had brought my limbs to life once the song's climax started.

But once the song had ended, my happiness ended with it.

In a second, the man was violently shoved in the opposite direction...by Peña, who had a melody of rage and jealousy in his eyes. The stranger recovered, but the strength of Peña's shove was enough for him to get the message as he disappeared across the club. "What the fuck are you doing here!" I yelled.

"Yeah, in this situation, you're not allowed to ask that question." He yelled back. Before I could open my mouth to question him on what 'situation', he pulled me in to talk into my ear.

"Carrillo called me once he'd figured out you went on a field trip." I screeched and shoved him back. "Fuck off." I scolded and ran off.

I wrapped my jacket around myself and slid my arms over my chest to draw less attention as I walked home. "Get in the car." I halted to find Peña's car. I snap my chin in his direction.

"Don't you have some bitch to fuck?" I bite.

"Not until Tuesday." He smirks. I could almost read his mind as it said,

Play with me.

I'd do no such thing as I started walking once more.

He drives alongside me. "Are you going to walk five miles? Just get in the damn car; that's insane." I scoff.

"No, you're insane." I countered.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, querida." I rolled my eyes at the name and kicked off my heels to carry them.

"Someone needs to keep you and your inflated ego in check." My feet begin to ache, and he chuckles.

"Then I'm glad it's a young twenty-four-year-old like you, now get in the car; I'm wasting gas." I considered it for a minute until I had no choice as a shard of glass punctured the arch of my foot. I cursed and hit the ground like a coward, making Javi stop the car and speed to my side. "Don't touch me." I cringed when a hand grazed my shoulder. "Fine. Stand on your own, but we need to remove the glass." He plainly said.

Planting my hands, I push up with my arms but accidentally put pressure on my foot.

A sharp pain runs through my foot as I cry and nearly hit the ground again until he's there to catch me. Peña reassures me that he's got me, but his calloused hands linger on my bicep. His raised brows make me chuckle through the pain. "What? Were you expecting skin and bone?"

***

We ended up at his apartment.

Something about it being closer than mine.

I sit on the toilet seat with my foot elevated on the edge of the tub.

Peña curses as he digs for the medical supplies underneath his sink. He eventually finds the kit hidden behind a new bottle of body wash. "Ah, here it is." He gleams and disappears into the kitchen and returns with a bottle of titos vodka. I squirm and pull the bottom of my dress down, afraid of showing too much.

"It's best if you don't tell your brother about this." He comments, pulling out a bandaid to cover the soon-to-be-open wound once the glass is removed. "Why? You're just dressing a wound?" I asked, genuinely confused, and he shrugged.

"Carrillo is the colonel, and if he hears of you and me at the club, I'll be sacked."

My brows pinched together, and his rose.

"But..you said he sent you?"

My lips part. If Horacio didn't send him, then why was he there?

Peña remains silent and pulls out a pair of tweezers, and I bite my lip. "Will it hurt?" Fear travels up my spine as he looks at me with softened eyes. "Only a little." I release a breath from my nose and nod for him to continue. I yelped at the intense pinch of the withdrawal of glass and the burn of the alcohol to clean the wound. My hand reaches to grab for something to hold until the pain passes, and that something was accidentally Peña's free hand.

He allows it and laces his fingers with mine. I'm in too much pain to bat him away and embrace the warm and rough feeling of his touch.

Groaning through the pain, I ask him.

"What were you doing at the club?" I hiss at the burn as he thoroughly cleans it. Once the blood is wiped clean, he covers the wound with a bandaid. "Keeping an eye on you." He responds.

"Why?" I asked, quicker than I had intended, and he took a deep breath. "Because that man wanted to fuck you." I folded my arms over my chest. "So? Maybe I wanted to fuck him?" He throws the kit back in the cabinet under the sink and takes a mouth full of vodka.

"Don't say shit like that." He groans in annoyance. I lean forward to get in his face.

"I'll fuck who I want, Peña; it's none of your business, nor is it your place to interfere." He stands from the edge of the tub, laughing.

"You're such a hypocrite, Carrillo. So I'm not allowed to fuck anybody, but you can spread your legs, and it's all kumbaya?"

I stand, relying on my left foot. "Are you serious?" I asked.

He raises the bottle for another drink. "Do I look serious?"

I shake my head. "No, you look like a fucking imbecile."

As soon as it left my mouth, I knew I was in trouble when he pinned me between his intimidating figure and the bathroom sink.

"Such a dirty mouth." He cooed and licked his lips before pressing them to mine for a peck. I froze from what he had done, and he leaned in again for a deepened kiss. My lips widened as his tongue dipped into my mouth. Fuck. I hadn't known I wanted this, and fuck did he know.

He grabs my waist to spin me around. Facing the mirror, his fingers diligently travel to undo my dress and take ownership of my panties. We both knew damn well what was going to happen, but what I hadn't known was what he was thinking, and for some reason, I wanted to.

Leaning back into his chest, I offer my neck as he leaves hungry bites that'd last for a week.

As if he read my mind, he says,

"I think that whenever I'm around you, I feel like I'm worth more."

The clink of his belt brings me to life as he continues,

"I think...I want to bend you over and brand you as mine." A soft moan drags from my lips. He's concrete against my backside when I'm bent over.

He gathers my hair in his fist, and I prepare for what's to come.

"I'm thinking..you've been wanting this for a long time." He whispered in my ear and, in one thrust, filled me until he leveled out. I'd never felt so complete as he tried to wiggle closer. I welcomed him, wanting his skin pressed tighter against mine. The pain in my foot stung, but I shoved it aside as the feeling electrified my body.

"Fuck." He barked, and I arched back into him until his other arm pinned down my body. The thrusts were slow as he was pacing himself, but I wanted more.

"Stop being withholding." I groaned, and he chuckled.

"What do you need?" He rasped. "Fuck, you want more?" I nodded in the mirror, but his movements stopped. "I need words, baby doll."

"Give me more." I cried against the cold granite top. My chest was freezing, and his thrusts were coming in faster than I could take them.

My hips were bruising from his impact as I crumbled beneath his fingertips. He groaned in satisfaction from above and collapsed into my back. Turning my head, we share our breaths and come down together.

"Don't tell my brother," I whispered, and together we breathlessly chuckled.

#pedro pascal #lovers #fanfic #javier peña #agent peña #narcos #fluff and smutt #colombia #angst #wanting #enemies to lovers

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colormepurplex2 · 2 years

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Work Hard, Play Harder | MYG

▻ Work Hard, Play Harder ↳ Yoongi x f.Reader ⤜ College AU ⤜ Strangers/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 9,265 ⤜ Summary: With your graduation in jeopardy over a failing grade, Min Yoongi gets thrust into your world as a potential beacon of redemption. However, he delights in playing games, and you just so happen to be the next court he aims to conquer.

⚠️ Mentions of drug use, angst, sex in public, blowjob, spit kink, cum eating, Yoongi is cocky af Please check the beginning of each chapter for specific warnings.

Chapter 1: Consequences

Chapter 2: Rewards

Story is complete.

Part of the Bangtan Writers HQ March 2022 “Greatest of all Time” G.O.A.T. Writing Event.

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Master List ©️ 2022-04-01 ColorMePurplex2

#bts #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts angst #bts smutt #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts strangers to lovers #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts non idol au #bts college au #yoongi fanfic #ta yoongi #student reader #bangtanwritershq #yoongi basketball #bts sports au

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leinawosaf · 2 months

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Fireproof - 06

New chapter is out today!

Fireproof ch 6 on Wattpad

Enjoy!

#angst #smutt #fanfic #love #mafia #mafia au #mafia romance #romance #dark romance #wattpad #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #steamy #fluff #cute

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crypticminx · 3 months

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MASTERLIST 💞

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Saltburn 🎀

Felix Catton⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚

Felix and reader ditching party (smutt, fluff) ⋆𐙚₊

Telling Felix you’re pregnant (fluff) ⋆𐙚₊˚

Pregnancy with felix (fluff) ⋆𐙚₊˚

Girl!dad Felix (fluffyyy) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Girl!dad Felix fic (fluff) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹˚

Older! Felix headcanons (fluff) ⋆𐙚₊˚

Breeding kink with Felix fic ⋆𐙚₊˚

More breeding kink with felix ⋆𐙚₊

Pregnancy smut with Felix ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Waking up next to Felix (fluff) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Felix eating you out ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Being Felix’s dirty secret ⋆𐙚₊˚

Enemies to lovers fic ⋆𐙚₊˚

Getting high with Felix ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Fucking Felix in his cop costume 𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Other Felix concepts!! Small drabbles:

Needy Felix ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Felix taking care of you <3

Dating Felix (moodboard) <3

Felix’s little wife <3

Jacob Elordi ᡣ𐭩₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Waking up with Jacob (smut, fluff) ᡣ𐭩

Parent teacher conference ᡣ𐭩

Nate Jacobs ₊˚⊹

Submissive Nate x reader (smutttt)

Baby fever

#saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi #saltburn 2023 #felix catton smut #felix catton fanfic #jacob elordi x reader

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mandyloves2read · 2 years

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⭐️Book Review ⭐️

Heartless Heroes Anthology

⠀

What Lies Between Us by H.D. Carlton

⠀

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was such a fascinating and exciting story for me not being a huge fan of mm romance I couldn’t put it down it completely sucked me in I love the world the characters the suspense mystery and the supernatural elements to this story all made for a very heart pounding thrilling read and the steam holy smokes Echo and Link were hot their chemistry is sizzling between them I devoured this story and I can’t wait for more! This was definitely H.D. Carlton doing what she does best I am obsessed with anything she has written and this was no different!

⠀

5/5⭐️

5/5🌶

⠀

HEARTLESS HEROES: A Dark Romance Anthology is LIVE! Grab it at your favorite retailer for ONLY 99¢!

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Some heroes want to save the world. Some will burn it down for the one they love.

Call them villains, anti-heroes, criminals, and monsters.

But these dark men love deeply and fiercely, and are ready to go to the ends of the earth to save their soulmate.

⠀

They will tempt you.

Captivate you.

Drag you into darkness, and leave you breathless.

They'll show you how good love can be in the dark.

⠀

There's a spark between these pages, and these Heartless Heroes will set your world on fire.

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Morally grey is the favorite color of these twenty new and bestselling authors. Grab your copy now to read all the dark shades of love painted by these Heartless Heroes.

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Authors in this set include:

J.L. Beck & C. Hallman, Sahara Roberts & Dori Pulitano, Sonya Jesus, H. D. Carlton, Lola West, D.S. Wrights, Elizabeth Miller, Lily Wildhart, Morgan James, A.R. Breck, Brynn Ford, Indie Black & Sienna Cousins, Isabella Phoenix & Victoria Pauley, Suki Williams, Ashley Gee, D.W. Marshall, and M.L. Philpitt

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#newrelease #anthology #needtoreaditnow #readyourheartout

#book review #romance blog #mandyloves2readbookreviews #mandyloves2read book blog #anthology #romance books #mustread #read it now #romancereader #smutt lover #smut reader

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werecreature-addicted · 6 months

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What abt Star crossing lovers like a human and werewolf. Like there not supposed to be together, like sad smutt idk how to explain it-

(Also Hope your having a good day🔭)

It was a chance encounter, some friends were going out with a pack of werewolves, just a little bit of danger to get the heart pumping. Humans and werewolves aren't really supposed to interact like this, you had always been taught that wolfmen were dangerous.

You didn't expect to hit off so well with them, but you do. Well, one of them at least. He's big and gruff and a little scary, but he's sweet too, he talks slowly and in a kind of quiet voice like he's trying not to scare you. he listens intently when you speak, and to your surprise, you actually have a lot to talk about. Maybe you don't have a lot in common, but talking to him is easy. The two of you just click, you're sad when it's time to leave, and your friends are dragging you away.

You hope you see him again, and little do you know, he's hoping to see you again too. Eventually, you do see him again at a party. You don't even try to play it cool, you're just so excited that you end up rushing over to him. He pulls you away from the rest of the party, the two of you are alone, talking again until he leans in and kisses you.

You start dating after that, keeping your relationship a secret. He's supposed to eat sweet little humans like you, not kiss them. It would be quite the scandal if anyone found out.

You both know this can't last, but it's easy to forget that it'll all be over soon when he's holding you close when he's taking you and making you his own.

He doesn't think that he'll ever forget your scent. Years from now, after you're long gone and his heart is almost healed, he'll catch a whiff of something sweet on the wind and that hole you left is ripped open again. He thinks about you. Often. He hopes you move on, that you're happy with some bland human man. He hopes you find love again, even if he never will. Wolves mate for life after all.

#monster imagine #monster boyfriend #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend #angst

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kaira-diaries · 6 months

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I was Never There:

Note: one shot is also available on Wattpad under my account Kairadiaries for those who prefer it.

Warning: death / violence / mention of smut / fluff / language

Pair: Javi x f!character

Summary: it's the height of the Escobar case and Javi just is never around. You're feeling a bit down and head to a club for the night with some friends. You flirt with a handsome stranger, not knowing the club you stood in was a narcos hotspot and Steve and Javi were about to raid it.

••••

The sun dawned on Medellin as I stretched my fatigued limbs, absorbing the warmth through the curtain drawn window. I held the thin cream colored sheet against my chest as I now looked to the empty side of the bed. Javi was gone most days, but made sure to leave a crumpled up note with the overwrought words I love you on my nightstand. I look at it now, tracing each messy letter, trying to find some truth in the sweet gesture.

Waking up alone is a bitter sweet feeling. I'd take Javi from Colombia if I could and keep him hidden from the travesties of someone else's responsibility, though, he's done more for this place than anybody else could ever challenge. Sometimes I feel selfish, for wanting him all to myself after three years of pillow talk. Surely I could compromise, right?

It's a question I'd take days to truthfully answer as the sheet rapped around my figure falls to the floor as I stand to get ready for the day, finding sanctuary in a distraction.

"Peppermint tea, what do you think?"

Connie, Steves wife, stands with a smile brighter than sunshine a few tea bags in hand with the baby in the other. The kitchen heats a usual degree as the spring air dances through the kitchen curtains. Connie always wished for a child, and I discover a sense of joy, watching her and the child fit like two puzzle pieces.

"Y/n?"

"Right, yeah, that sounds delectable." I snap out of it, reaching for a handheld fan across the table. The ceiling fan above revealed to be useless.

Connie flashes a sweet smile, handing the baby to me and turning back to mix the ice water with the tea bags.

"What's troubling you?" She challenged.

The baby played with my braided strands as I thought up a response.

"Troubling circumstances." I said, bouncing the giggling little girl on my lap.

The pitcher of iced tea sweats as Connie places it on the table, followed by two glasses. She reads with concern, as she pours me a glass. "Javier?" I only nod and continue.

"I feel so...isolated from him. Most nights, I'm asleep once he gets home and asleep when he sneaks out to the office in the morning. He doesn't even make love to me anymore. It just feels like sex. All I get are empty words scribbled carelessly in pen. I just..I don't know what I can do anymore."

"If I were you" She grabs my empty hand. "I'd go have fun. While you're young and still can." She adds that last part with a giggle and I find myself later that day pulling out of my closet my finest black corset sequin dress along with gaspingly high heels. I need some cheering up.

LUX

The three letters lit the street as they painted the picture of alcohol and techno music.

In the heart of Medellin there were clubs up and down the blocks with similar architecture, though Lux had been for the most prestigious guests, and its incredible what beauty can do for you in this town.

Batted eyelashes with doe eyes were what got us in as I sipped on my fifth glass of whiskey, the music vibrated through my skin. Javier had introduced the insatiable liquor to me and it became my favorite.

The time read midnight on my watch and I threw back the rest of my drink, pushing the spice down my esophagus. In need of the dance floor, I slide from my chair making my way into the intoxicated crowd. My girls from grad school were out here now, finding any type of dance partner they could to grind to the music with. I had giggled at Lisa, who threw a goofy smile and a wink in my direction. I had began to sway, sliding into beat with the music. The song was just about to reach its climax as two large hands took charge of my hips. My neck began to tickle from the whispering touches of a mustache and I leaned into it, taking refuge in the familiarity. My nose collided with the mans as I laid eyes on a handsome and stoic face. He gave a cheesy grin as our paced quickened, the climax just moments away.

That's when the first gunshot rung. Screams poisoned the air as my friends along with the rest of the crowd frantically took off towards the nearest exit and the music stopped as the club was raided with armed men. A single glimpse was all it took for me to realize... it was Javier's men and it took only another moment for all guns to be drawn and honed in on the man that stood behind me.

My legs took control as I threw myself forward to get away until a thick arm locked around my neck, the other around my waist.

I was being used as a human shield with no strength to break free and a pistol making purchase on my sweaty temple.

Like the red sea, the men surrounding us parted, making way for Javier and Steve whose jaw dropped at the sight of me. I would have shrugged my shoulders if I could, too drunk to register the danger I was in.

Of course, Javier normally read like a book.

He was panicked with a angsty expression in his eyes, no doubt, but also agitated at the sight of me not home and in bed. He had to school it, though, because whoever had their arms around me couldn't know my affiliation.

If he did, and I survived tonight, I'd be dead in a matter of days.

"Really man?" Steve raised his arms in an unbelievable gesture towards the man who tightened his grip like iron, earning a yelp from me. I cringed at the steel that dug into my backside.

A/N: From now on they are speaking spanish I just don't want to translate, k thanks!

"The way I see it, you have two options here." Javi stood with one hip out, his hands gripping his belt loop.

"You can let the girl go, and come with us peacefully. Saving the lives of your meth-heads."

I looked now, seeing them on their knees, bags over their heads, with guns pointed to their temples like me.

"Or you can choose not to let the girl go, and I shoot you square between the fucking eyes."

He shrugged, palms facing the two of us. "It's your choice."

Silence filled the air and I wasn't sure who was supposed to make the next move as I studied Javi in front of me. His eyes lulled me to relax.

"You'll never be able to stop Escobar you DEA fuck. The drugs were flown to america early this morning. You're way past the point of redemption and way past the opportunity for making up lost time."

A fat loogie flew past my cheek, landing on Javier's boot.

The color was putrid as his breath lingered around me. Javier had only given a wicked smirk as if he just signed the mans death certificate.

Steve only gagged from behind.

Charming.

I honestly hadn't planned for it to happen, but it did and it was sort of genius.

Once the contents in my stomach reached my mouth from the disgusting sight on Javier's leathered toe, there was no stopping it. Whiskey and remnants of dinner went all over the floor and the man released me, but not without slicing a deep cut into my cheek from the sharp steel of the gun.

I lost balance as he shoved me to the floor, the barrel of the gun pointed at my face.

"Filthy Bitch." He seethed.

That's when Javi had been true to his word.

The man was dead a moment later with a hole square between his eyes, hot with metal from Javi's bullet.

His body collapsed beside mine as his blood splattered on my face.

I wailed at such a sight as his body became blurry.

A/N: back to English now!

I could barely make out the expression on his face as Javi dropped to a knee before me. His jacket was shed not a moment later to gently clean the bodily fluid from my face. I had almost gagged again until he lifted me with a sweet whisper. "Lets go home."

___

I woke the next morning to a dark room.

The drapes hadn't been drawn.

The nightstand had held nothing other than a two day old glass of water.

The headache took shape quickly and I dropped back down against the pillow with a groan. Rubbing my face in hope to come to but then my fingertips collided with a large bandage stuck to my cheek.

Fuck, I didn't think the slice was that resounding.

"Morning."

Javi appeared, lingering in the doorway, his arms were crossed while leaning against the frame.

"Hi." It was small and unsure as he approached the window, opening the drapes, and letting the sun in. I only sat awkwardly like a child waiting for their punishment.

He then approached with a bottle of water and two headache pills. Handing the bottle to me, Javi gives a sweet greeting kiss and I jumped back. "I haven't brushed my teeth, Jav."

He shrugs. I tilt my head. "And I vomited my guts out last night?"

"You think that bothers me?"

"It should?" I challenged, earning an eye roll while shoving the two pills down my throat washing them down with water.

"You want to tell me why you were at Lux last night?" His brow raised with intimidation.

"Just looking for some harmless fun." I blindly picked at the fabric of the blanket, trapped in his stare.

"Yeah, a gun to the temple looked harmless."

I scoffed. "Oh please, like I knew you were going to Clint Eastwood the entire place." I crossed my arms.

He only stared.

"You need to be more smart with yourself, y/n." He caressed the bandage on my cheek as a reminder.

A reminder of another close call but I drew his hand from me.

"You don't get to tell me what I need." I spelt and leaned back into my pillow.

"You're angry with me."

"Furious" I emphasized.

He gestured me to explain. Its then that the heartbreak rose to the surface.

My eyes dropped, hiding the despair.

"I've never felt so alone." I wept with pain at the sentence.

"Javi..You're never around. I eat breakfast alone, I eat dinner alone, I sleep alone."

"Its like you don't exist." I finished as the bed adjusted beside me from his weight. My slumped figure was then pulled onto his chest. Warm arms slung around my waist and cradled the back of my head.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. His mustache tickled my forehead as he pressed a sweet kiss to it.

"This case keeps me up at night, its..never ending and I haven't wanted you seeing me in this shape because I knew it'd take just about everything from you, but if I knew you had felt like...I just..I would have been here y/n. Forgive me."

I sat up, facing him. His eyes, once brown with spunk and energy, were now grey with exhaustion. They lit the smallest spark as I caressed his cheek. "You need rest." He drew from me, only shaking his head in agreement. We laid back down.

He had explained his truth.

The case had been taking much from him, he aimed to keep it from me...out of shame? I hadn't fully known but it was enough.

From that night on things had been different.

Javi had been there, keeping his promises.

In return I was able to give him support and enough strength to get through each day, even if it ended with chasing his nightmares away.

It was a balanced give and take that wasn't there before.

#pedro pascal #lovers #fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #agent peña #javier pena narcos #narcos #colombia #bogotá #medell�n #fluff and smutt #angst

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honeysunai · 2 years

Text

Hostess| Kyoya Ootori x reader

Part five - Sun and thunder

Pairing : Kyoya Ootori x reader

General rating : Fluff, enemies to love vibes

Word count : 4k

Summary: As only heir to your family you are bound to an arranged marriage with the third son of the powerful house Ootori. His cold behavior is only a mask for you to uncover when you stumble into music room number three.

Warning: Mention of blood and some bad volleyball description.

This other vacation day is an absolute bliss! No alligators, no chlorine filling your lungs, only the beautiful sun and a hot breeze. On the downside… Kyoya made sure that you had to share your vacations with your guests. This is why you’re in your most revealing bikini you had, you had to entertain your guest in some way and you still had to prove that you could be a better host than Kyoya.

You and Taishiro, one of your newest guests, were playing volleyball against Renge and another boy. Your team was clearly winning because of your past in this sport, five years of volleyball! You weren’t the best, but you were certainly a really good player.

Renge passed the ball over the net and you threw yourself to send it back, but failed miserably. You dropped onto the sand and Taishiro rushed over to you. You had to play your part.

“I’m sorry Taishiro, I missed this one.” You sniffed and he grabbed your hands in his. “No worries y/n! You did so great and it’s only one point, we can make it!” He smiled and so did you. You wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you Taishiro! You’re such a great guy! Isn’t he, ladies?” You turned your head to meet with a crowd of girls fawning over the two of you. Taishiro wanted to be more desirable to the female gaze, so this is the part you’re playing. He is a sweet guy, really, you don’t understand why he would need your help to get girls. He just needed a little boost of confidence, you thought.

You played your role so well that even Kyoya was looking at you– staring at you. The cold death stare as you let your guest help you back on your feet. He gives a feather light kiss to your knuckle without breaking eye contact and you blush. I wink at him as his cue to go see his new groupies and he does just that. They welcome him with sweet words and you laugh on the inside.

That stupid plan did in fact work.

But now, you’re missing a player. You looked around to find a replacement and all of your friends were busy, but your male guests were free. “Hi boys! Can one of you be a darling and play with me?” You wave at them, batting your eyelashes. One of the few boys stood up and dashed to you. “Thank you Asahi, you’re so sweet to play with me.” “It’s my pleasure!” He smiles with all his teeth. Asahi was tall and had long luscious dark brown hair. You’d say he was your type, you like tall pretty boys. “Are you any good at volleyball y/n?” He asks while putting his hair in a bun. “I was captain of my team when I was younger. What about you?” “I wasn’t captain, but I was the ace of my team.” He smirks proudly. “I just hope I can keep up with you, my darling ace.” You wink at him and his entire face becomes red. “I’m taking a break ladies, great match.” Renge’s partner smiles before leaving at once, now we’re back at missing a player all of the sudden. “I’ll replace him.” The deep voice you recognize all too well is heard from behind you and as Kyoya walks past you, he makes sure he bumps into you. Where was he when you needed a teammate?

The referee waits until both teams are ready. Kyoya was your opponent, he was in front of you and he was tall. You’d have to find a way to get through him to win. His gaze on you was intense, cold and determined.

“They can start!” Asahi shouts at the referee. “We’re going to win anyways.” He says to you in a low voice and you smirk. You will win.

For some reason, Renge became great at volleyball in an instant and caught you off guard when she served perfectly between you and Asahi. She was strong and fast… She too, played the game of the helpless girl to get the guy’s attention. Well played Renge, she even fooled you.

The referee’s whistle echoes and the point is theirs. You look over to Asahi and nod, this won’t happen again.

Renge serves again and you stay focused on her face, where she will dare to look. She makes eye contact with you and smirks. Direct hit on you! The ball hits your chest hard and you gasp when it hits you.

“Chance ball, Asahi!” You grunt and he doesn’t let a second be wasted to send it the other way as hard as Renge did, harder even towards Kyoya. He sends it to his teammates and she sends it back to him higher. Another direct hit towards Asahi, this time, and he sends it to you with ease. You smash it right in front of Kyoya and he falls onto his knees trying to retrieve the ball, but fails as it rebounds on the sand.

“Can’t keep up, clownfish?” You laugh.

“I can do this all day, goblin shark.” He spat and your blood boiled inside of you. He stands up and calls over Renge to talk about a quick strategy.

Asahi serves and you smirk as you see Renge struggling to focus on his next move. Asahi is unpredictable and that is to your advantage. The ball is up and when Renge figures the move of your teammate, it’s too late. Kyoya was on his toes and reacted before she could send it up in the air so she had enough time to send it back to your side of the court. It was all in slow motion just like in movies, Kyoya’s eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat. It was the tension his gaze exudes towards you, the thrill of the competition. The playful smirk upin his face told you that he was enjoying this too. For the first time, he looked like a normal boy of your age and you found him so beautiful. It’s unfortunate he wasn’t like this at all times. But no matter what, you won’t lose to him, ever.

This intense exchange goes on forever until you have had enough and hit it right next to Kyoya’s head. The whistle blows and it’s your point. He doesn’t move and for a second you think you might’ve traumatized the poor guy. But he laughs, truly laughs.

“You’re trying to kill me?” Kyoya says while trying to keep his composure and you laugh too. You looked like two idiots, but you didn’t care, it was the first time you were laughing with Kyoya. You wanted to cherish that moment a little while longer.

“You’re in my way.” You finally say and he snorts as if he was saying ‘yeah right’. Asahi gives you a high five and Kyoya’s jaw tense and his smile leaves his face once again.

The scores are equal and you won’t let yourself be beaten by Kyoya’s arrogance. You’re growing tired and your body doesn’t want to keep up with what you have in mind. Your opponents can see that and they are playing at their advantage by making you run everywhere. Kyoya hits the volleyball right in front of you, almost out of reach, but you drop in the sand to hit the ball back to Asahi who spikes it directly behind Renge hitting the line made in the sand. Kyoya walks over to you with a smirks on his stupidly handsome face. You were fuming. He crouches next to you still on his side of the field and laughs.

“Don’t be a sore loser, y/n” The whistle is blown and you look over to the referee– it’s in! That's your point!

“Can’t be a sore loser if I’m winning.” You smirked at your turn and stood up to tower Kyoya. “Great job Asahi!” You shout never leaving Kyoya’s gaze. By his expression, he wanted to wipe that evil smirk stained on your face.

After your sweet victory, you were looking at the sunset with some of your female guests. You were all sitting on a towel you’d put down to enjoy the view. They were nice girls and talked to you about the boys they had a crush on and you listened to them. You’d listen carefully to what they were looking for in a partner and you’d slide in the conversation offering advice. After all, even if they weren’t your friends, you’d still have to be there for them as you are their host.

“Look at what we have here, one girl for each of us.” A deep masculine voice is heard behind you and your head snapped to see who it was. It wasn’t anyone from your school that you’d seen around, they were local boys and the way they were slowly approaching you meant only trouble.

“Leave us alone, this is a private beach and you’re not one of our guests.” You warn the boys who are still approaching you and your female guests. “I will gladly call the security and they won’t be as nice as I am if you do not leave.” You stood up and put yourself in front of the girls. One of them grabbed your arm and quickly let go of it.

“She said leave them alone!” Haruhi’s voice is heard and it gives time to the girls to leave the rock you were now stuck on. The small brunette had an urchin in her hands ready to throw it.

“Is that your security?” One of them mocks. He grabs onto Haruhi’s shirt and drags her to the edge of the cliff.

“Come on! Stop messing with him.” You tried to yank the guy off of Haruhi, but instead he drops her in the ocean. You loudly gasp before running to the edge ready to jump after her.

“Haruhi!” Tamaki’s scream is heard as he dashes in the water after your friend before you could.

“Looks like it’s only the four of us now.” One of the boys grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer to him. Without thinking your elbow moves and hits him in the groin, hard. It gives you enough time to get away. You can see some security coming up the rock you were on and you felt relieved that the girls alerted someone of our group to call them. Your feet hit a small crevice and you fall down the rest of the way. It was a short fall, but nonetheless it hurts.

“Y/n!” Honey’s high pitched voice echoes in your ears and you see Kyoya dashing towards you before you can even see the small blonde.

“Are you alright?” He asks, cupping your cheeks in his hands and you nod. “Are you hurt?”

“I might have scratched my foot and knees.” You grunt.

“And elbows.” Honey pants. You look at your arms and blood is dripping down them. You guessed your fall was more severe than you thought.

“I’ll bring her to the infirmary.” Mori simply says and picks you up as if you weigh nothing.

“Tamaki’s in the water with Haruhi! Go look for them please.” You begged your friends.

They all ran towards the water as you and Mori left for the infirmary of the beach resort. You saw blood dripping down his chest going downwards and you were afraid it might stain his swim shorts.

“I’ll ask my mother to make you a new pair of swim shorts, I bet you won’t want to go back swimming in them.” You tried your best to apologize and to squirm out of his grip so he wouldn't be covered in blood.

“Don’t worry about it.” He speaks holding you tighter to his chest and you blush silently as he man handles you.

You finally found the infirmary and he sat you down on the office table. The nurse is probably on break because there’s no one in this room and the tall man starts to look inside the drawers to get some rubbing alcohol and bandages.

He kneels in front of you and starts with your feet. He grazed the damaged skin with a cotton ball dipped in the rubbing alcohol. His touch is so gentle and yet you hold on to his shoulder to hold a hiss. He looks up and you can see that he’s worried he might’ve hurt you.

“I’m fine. It’s not everyday I get injured.” You joked and he lightly smiled. He does the same for your knees and your elbows before wrapping every single one of your injuries with swift and gentle movements. “Thanks Mori.” You smile at him and so does he. You kept silent when he was doing his ‘work’, but now you wanted to know. “Why did you volunteer to carry me here and to patch my wounds yourself?”

“You’re my friend. I have to take care of you, just like you would with me.” He softly speaks as he finishes to wrap up your elbow. Your heart melts, he was too sweet to you and deep inside your mind you wished a certain someone would be a little like Mori.

“You’re a bit too heavy for me to carry around.” He chuckles at your joke. “But thank you again, for the help.” It was that simple with him, no argument, no teasing… Just plain simple, you liked that.

“Anytime.” He stood up and towers over you even when you’re sitting on the nurse’s counter. His gaze never left yours and you couldn’t look away from him. “It’s a shame.” He speaks and he’s surprised that these words came out of his own mouth.

“What is?” Your voice is only a whisper.

“That Kyoya can’t admit to himself that you’re pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Your surprise with his words.

“You are.” He softly smiles.

“Wait– What do you mean about Kyoya?” Oh my god– Does he know?

“He should tell you that you’re pretty. You’re engaged.” He says it as if it was nothing. You were shocked.

“You knew?” He nods. “How?” You were frantic, but never raised your voice.

“Mitsukuni and I looked you up before you came into our club. Since you didn’t mention it, it wasn’t our place to do so.” You forgot how powerful their families are! Why didn’t you think about it before?!

“I guess it makes sense.” You hide your face in your hands.

“Are you unhappy with Kyoya?” He asks and you bring yourself to look him in his eyes.

“No– yes? I don’t know.” You scoff and he pats your shoulder. “He’s infuriating most of the time and gets on my nerves, but sometimes, he’s kind and he cares. He made it clear that our relationship will only be for business, no feelings attached.” You explain.

“But what do you want?”

“Love, plain and boring love.” You laugh. “Just like my parents.”

“You’ll find it, your old boring love.” He snorts.

“So will you Mori.” You smile.

Dinner was… something.

You sat next to Tamaki and you could smell the smoke coming from the blonde’s perfect ears. You guessed something had happened between him and his protégé. Because during this entire time Haruhi has been eating lobster like she hasn’t eaten in days while ignoring Tamaki who was scolding her. Haruhi was having none of it.

“If I wasn’t there to do something, y/n and the other girls would’ve been in so much more trouble!”

“You were being careless!”

“Now’s the time I excuse myself.” Kyoya pushes back his fancy chair and exits the room rather quickly.

“Can we enjoy a dinner together without yelling, please?” You practically begged the two idiots yelling at one another. They weren’t listening to you, it seems none of your other friends were listening to you as well. Honey quickly gave you a shrug that meant ‘at least you tried’ before ravaging his plate with more lobster.

“I hate you!” As soon as the words leave the girl's mouth, Tamaki goes silent and turns back to face his plate. He is pale as if he saw a ghost. Haruhi storms out the dining room and you were hoping that her beloved prince would try to catch up to her, but he stayed silent as she ran away. Oh Tamaki…

The other’s finished their meal and went somewhere in the manor while you stayed with oh so silent Tamaki Suho.

“You don’t have to stay with me.” He is sulking, again, and it makes you sad. Tamaki is supposed to be the cheering type of guy who always puts a smile on people’s faces. It didn’t sit right with you to just leave him alone.

“I think you might need a friend for a ‘talk’ or a hug. Both are at your disposal.” You tried to make a joke, but failed miserably as no familiar smile crept on his lips. “What happened with Haruihi?”

“I told her that going after those boys was reckless and that she wasn’t thinking when she tried to be the hero. She’s too fragile! I don’t want anything to happen to her.” He almost raised his voice out of anger, but kept quiet.

“Haruhi is a lot tougher than you want to admit yourself.” You start and he sighs. “I’m not saying that you don’t have the right to be angry, you do. But she did save our guests' life, god knows what these boys would’ve done.”

“What about you?” He simply says finally looking you in your eyes. “You were left alone with them.”

“I gave the guy a hit he will not forget I think.” You chuckle. “I’m no fighter, Tamaki, but I’m not weak. I would do anything in my power to protect my friends or anyone in need. Haruhi did that to try and save me too.” You add. “It was reckless, but you have to understand that she wouldn’t have stayed there and done nothing. She’s stubborn and reckless, but that’s our Haruhi.”

“She could’ve tried to find me beforehand.”

“Tamaki… You’re trying to act like a father figure to her– hell you call yourself her daddy! But she already has a dad and she needs a friend. You’re acting like someone you think you have to be to get close to her, but you’re not bad when you’re yourself, Tamaki. I think you’re a great guy and I think Haruhi would love that guy too.”

“But she said she hates me.”

“I would’ve said that to you too if you were yelling at me while I’m eating.” You snort and so does he. There he is. “I think you should apologize to her or at least talk about it without yelling.” His soft smile indicates that he understands what you're saying and you gently pat him on the back.

“You mean that? Do you think I’m a great guy?” The purple tint in his eyes felt like it regained joy and you were proud of yourself to be able to cheer him up.

“The day I tell you otherwise is the day pigs will have wings.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” You give him a quick nudge on his side.

“Walk me to my room? A certain someone’s room is next to mine.” He nods and you both exited the dining room.

You keep rambling on about the lobster and how great it tasted, but realize that he stopped following you. You look back and he’s in complete shock in front of Kyoya’s open bedroom door. You rush towards him to see what’s got him so confused. You were perplexed as to why your fiancé and Haruhi were sitting next to each other on his bed. Kyoya wasn’t wearing a shirt… The tension between the four of you felt tense. Haruhi, as she meets your gaze, blushes looking away quickly shyly. It wasn’t like her to be like this. Did he tell her? Did they do something they shouldn’t have done?

“Are you all right?” Tamaki asks Haruhi, walking closer to her.

“I’m f—” Kyoya starts.

“He was speaking to Haruhi.” Your words were sharper than a knife. Thunder raged outside as if you’d made it appear with your feelings. How dare he judge you for a televised kiss? But he’s half naked with Haruhi. The rage that you exude from your body was a clear warning for Kyoya to not speak until you ask him to. Tamaki shivers from this side of you and yells at Kyoya how he is not being a gentleman with his girl. Kyoya’s shocked gaze never left yours as he was being scolded by Tamaki. Your jaw clenched as tears welled up your eyes. You were so angry! Angry that Kyoya can’t keep it in his pants. Angry that he wanted Haruhi over his own fiancé. Angry that he lied and broke his promise to you! You turned around and rushed to your room hoping Kyoya would not come after you.

“Y/n–”Kyoya grabs your wrist to spin you around, but you yank off your arm from his grip. He was so fast and so stealthy you didn’t even hear him follow you.

“Don’t touch me!” The tears in your eyes finally slipped. “You’re an absolute asshole! You judged me for kissing Kaoru in a film, but you were probably going to do far worse with Haruhi. You asked for faithfulness and you can’t keep your word. I hate you Kyoya! I hate—” Your face hit his warm, strong chest while one of his hands is gently stroking the back of your head and the other one around your waist, holding you so close and so tight to him.

“Please don’t cry.” He whispers while tilting his head so his cheek wasn’t resting on your head anymore, it was his lips. “Don’t cry because of me, I didn’t break my promise to you y/n.” The soft skin of his lips made your entire being burn. Was it his heartbeat or your own who was pounding in your ears? “I was changing and she thought it was her room. We just talked about how reckless she was being today.”

“It sounds ridiculous.” You scoff.

“I know…” He sighs. “I swear on Tamaki’s head I didn’t do anything or tried anything.”

“You don’t like Tamaki very much.” A soft giggle escapes your lips as you sniff.

“I do in a very special way, but I swear it on yours then.” He chuckles.

“You don’t like me Kyoya.” You roll your eyes.

“More than you make yourself believe.” He whispers. You try to look up, but Kyoya only holds you tighter as if he was ashamed of what he had just said to you. What did he mean by that? Does he want to try? He probably said it to tease you again or to make you stop crying like a baby.

“You don’t have to pretend to care, Kyoya. No one is watching us.” Disgust was shown on your face, but your fiancé couldn’t see it.

“I know.” He keeps stroking your hair as if he was the one who needed it now. He needed comfort just as much as you did. You finally tighten your grip on him and melt into his body as if it was made for you.

After a while you both let go of each other and bid the other one good night and walked to your respective rooms. You finally rested your head on the silk pillowcase, but couldn’t manage to be a little bit tired. After your intense day, week even, you couldn’t even find sleep. You could only think about that stupid dinner date with your in-laws and what happened to day. What happened with Kyoya… The intimacy you shared with him. You needed to talk to him.

You pulled out your phone and tossed and turned in your bed trying to find the courage to call or text him, until your text tone went off. You quickly check your phone and your heart skipped a beat.

“Do you want to go walk around the estate?” - Kyoya

#kyoya #kyoya ootori #ohshc kyoya #kyoya x reader #kyoya fluff #kyoya smutt #ohshc anime #ohshc x reader #ohshc fanfic #ouran host club #ohshc au #ouran academy #ouran tamaki #ouran x reader #enemies to lovers #anime #arranged marriage #anime fluff #ohshc smutt

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fatesundress · 1 year

Text

⭑ patience, please, and thank you. tom riddle x reader

summary. you and tom have always sought to best one another in school. it doesn’t help that upon graduating, you work for opposing shops.

tags. rivals to … rivals with benefits? lovers? there’s no real animosity just #flirting so i don’t know, SMUTT minors begone, fluff that may be ooc to some but Not Me, reader literally learns archaic latin for this man, poor boy x rich girl trope if you squint, pureblood reader (and mentions of pureblood marriage politics), explicitly f!reader this time sorry!, fem anatomy, fingering, piv, tldr tom riddle would be turned on by the culminated tension of an eight-year-long academic rivalry.

note. i was 5k words into something else (that is probably better) before this came to me and would not go away so. here it is. don't know where all the smut is coming from. head empty

word count. 6.4k

The bell to Borgin and Burkes knells low and hollow in your ear as you enter, and there he is. Prim waistcoat and perfect hair, tucking books away with a wave of his wand. Far too pretty a thing for a dusty place like this, you think, and you smile with your head held high, pretending to take in the inventory as if that's ever been your reason for coming here.

“You mightn't consider leaving at all," Tom says, regarding you briefly before returning to his books, “if you're going to return this often."

“Oh, Riddle, but then what would you do without my company? Talk to the bones?"

“A tempting offer when considering my alternative.”

He leans against the counter to watch you as you make your way down the aisle, fingers jolting as they brush the shelves of dark paraphernalia, preemptively casting a locking jinx on a particularly nasty skeletal hand that grabbed you once last year.

“Is there anything you're looking for?"

“Nothing in particular,” you hum as you peruse, “Curiosities of your friendly competitors.”

“Friendly,” he repeats, like he’s tasting a strange flavour.

You smile with just enough polished barb that you hope it bothers him. “Most cordial. And I am nothing if not the dutiful volunteer for the task."

It is an objective truth that you are good at many things. Tom is good at all of them and perhaps one more: being pushed significantly and never showing symptoms of breaking. You'd like to be the one to change that.

“I presume you intend to leave with something?" There's a challenge in his voice, clear as day, as he stands straighter, but — not bothered. Not bothered, just intrigued. His hands fold behind his back and his chin comes up, daring you to say a single snarky thing that isn't true — that you're here to taunt him. Not to buy a thing, and not to enjoy his company.

It was such a boring day before this. If he only knew, he might have a tad more sympathy.

“Breathe, Riddle — if you can through all the dust in here — I've plenty of money to spare; there’s no need to fret about me leaving empty-handed." You select a book at random to prove your point, waltzing closer to hand Tom four sickles from your coin purse.

You're pleasantly surprised to see him actually smile, the corners of his mouth stretching with only the slightest degree of mirth. He reaches out and takes the coins, setting both upon the counter before turning up his nose at the book in your hands. “It must be an enthralling read to capture your attention."

You smooth the cover over with manicured hands and shrug at the indecipherable title. “Well, I’m remiss not to have a clue. I believe it's in Latin."

He runs his hand along the book, thumbing the pages with a raised brow. “It’s a history text. Ancient Roman institutes of magic.” His gaze returns to you. “Will that be all?”

You roll your eyes. He would know a dead language — it's such a remarkably Riddle thing to do — probably just for the sake of knowing it.

“Yes, if that's satisfactory enough that I may be permitted to walk the premises without causing offence."

“Of course. Though I do expect a review of it soon," he adds, “to know whether my time hasn't been entirely wasted."

“A review?" You laugh. “And I suppose you ask that of all your customers? Mind the matter of it being in a language I don't know; it would take me a few months for a crude translation at best."

“Only my best customers," he says with a small shrug, as if that isn't a completely arbitrary standard he's just pulled out of nowhere. “In that case, you've the better part of a year to read it," he adds, and the smile on his face is less thin, less restrained, more cocky.

You raise a brow, scanning over the words on the first page as if hoping something will stick out. It's all gibberish. “I'm being timed now, am I? I don't recall accepting the task."

"Do you not?"

You scoff. "Of course I do."

“Or perhaps I could translate for you?" he suggests, “It's really no bother for me."

You should be offended — he's eternally eager to see you fail — but your stomach flips at the premise of a challenge you haven't felt since you were in school together, and most importantly, you never fail. “Give me a date, Riddle.”

“I think by Christmas would be fair. Does that give you enough time, or shall I set it a bit later?"

“Christmas," you agree, shaking his hand with all professionalism you can muster (this is, after all, a very professional exchange), turning away, and smiling to yourself as the shop bell tolls again.

It’s only weeks before Christmas when it occurs to you that this isn’t even for anything. There’s no prize should you win, no one else is aware of it, it’s a great waste of time when what began as a passable weekend hobby has now drowned you in English-Latin dictionaries and histories of Ancient Rome. The shop surpasses last year’s sales and you’re dozing off into your mother’s pastry dish during the family celebration. Even your father telling a rather pitiful tale of his Polyjuiced visit to Borgin and Burkes can’t keep your attention when he drones on about how easily he fooled Mr Borgin into remembering the details of some spat twenty years ago. Your brain is in a half-scattered language. It tugs you to what might be the most depressing December 25th of your life if you’re forced to give Tom the gift of your failure.

So you double-down. Your social life is nonexistent. You’re three quarters through the textbook and dreaming about duelling Tom under the Arch of Constantine, and he wins, and he wins, and he wins each time. It only propels you more. You’re downing Invigoration Draughts like a drunkard with a cradle of firewhisky.

And you do it.

You finish the damn book, you think you might have actually fucking learned Latin with how deep the words have rooted in your skull, and you win.

You win, in your prettiest dinner dress, snow clinging to your hair, wrapped in a brand new coat as the shop bell tolls and you step inside.

You’re grateful you don’t say as much (which you were planning on doing — planning on slamming the door shut behind you and carolling your bloody success) because it’s Mr Burke at the counter this Christmas evening, not Tom.

“...Miss?” He regards you with perplexity behind the counter.

You blink, recollecting yourself and stepping forward to shake his hand. “Mr Burke. My family wished to extend their best wishes for the new year.”

“Quite a gesture," comes a familiar voice from behind you as Tom steps out from the staircase, dressed in a dark suit and overcoat, like he’s just been out. He’s smiling. He looks disgustingly well.

You glance between the two men, and Burke bows curtly as if made aware of something he’d previously been warned of. “To yours as well, miss.” And then he’s off to assist the only other customer, an elderly woman in fur-lined green with so many glittering pins in her hair she resembles a Christmas tree.

“Riddle,” you say, facing him, unable to hide the triumphant grin that digs into your cheeks. You hand him the book, and atop it, your three pages of articulate, edited review.

“You made it. You read it," he acknowledges, though you doubt he’s surprised, and then nods to the stairs. “Come.”

You follow him up the narrow spiral into a short corridor, taking one look back at the old woman, now clasping a shrieking bauble you gladly turn away from. The door Tom opens is unlocked, presumably where he’d just come from, and — you feel a bit overwhelmed if you’re correct, but you have no idea what else it could be — presumably his flat.

When you enter, the door shuts behind you with an empty click of the latch. The room before you is rather sparse, a kitchenette in one corner, a cramped study in the other, with books upon books and scrolls stacked high on shelves along the dark walls. There's only the barest of seating, two armchairs beneath a dim desk lamp, a small table beside the fireplace, and… a bed, of all things, separated only by a thin divider and the courtesy of enough distance not to immediately draw the eye. You, of course, can't quite help it, gaze lingering on the tidy sheets and back to him.

It isn’t a thought you do well to dwell on. Too many directions for your imagination to roam.

“Well then," you say, hanging your coat at the door and trying not to display any overt anticipation as the parchment rustles in his hand, “Shall I just sit and await your evaluation?"

He raises a brow. “I was going to ask if you’d like tea. Do sit, though.”

Oh. Yes, right, you’re rushing things. Hospitality. Decorum. Consideration. You suppose Tom Riddle would extend those things for the sake of posterity if nothing else. “Something black, if you have any, please.”

The water comes to a boil quickly under the steady heat of his magic, and you’re sinking into a shockingly comfortable armchair taking in every shape and blemish of the room while you’re in it. You don’t have to guess that he doesn’t have many guests.

“Darjeeling,” Tom says as he offers you a steaming cup, “if that’s satisfactory.”

You resist a scowl at his mocking tone, placing the tea on a glass coaster and glancing purposefully at your work (your magnum opus, really) once more. “Perfectly.”

Tom notes your look with a smile, settling into the seat opposite yours.

You take a sip of tea and lean back. “Do go on.”

“Eager,” he mutters, but begins.

He skims over the opening line before flipping the book open as if to be sure you haven’t made it all up, and then you think you probably could have made it all up if you wanted. Read one of the hundreds of magical histories of Rome that certainly existed — probably in your own shop, at that — and gathered much the same conclusion. But you did not. Tom must know you did not.

The silence is thick as he reads, waned only by the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional turn of a page. His brows furrow the way you always remember catching in school, like he's concentrating on a particularly hard puzzle, and you have to busy yourself with a nearly empty cup of tea to pretend not to notice the way his beauty is something almost delicate. Framed by firelight and the indigo gloss of the night shining in through the window, you imagine his hair mussed, his long eyelashes speckled with snow, his cheeks pink from the cold. You wonder about him in a nicer suit than this. You could buy him one, if you liked.

And then, at last, he looks up over the parchment, expression carefully measured. “I'm impressed.”

You put your cup down and you can’t help it. You're smiling. You're proud. His approval is like bottling the tail of a rainbow (which you’ve been told is possible), and it's a feeling that’s been absent from you for so long, it's never come from him — Merlin, you've always wanted it to come from him, haven’t you?

“You’re impressed?” you ask, as you love nothing more than to push. “Is that all?”

He loves nothing more than to keep his face impassive, but there’s a twitch there. Something you’re aware you can only spot because of how much attention you pay him.

“I enjoyed your perspective on the Romans’ utilisation of firedrakes. It was well-thought.”

“Well-thought?”

“Quite good, yes.”

“Good," you say, grinning in the bulk of your triumph, “I suppose that means I win."

Win. You’re not winning anything but the implication that Tom is somehow losing. Still he does not break, and you think at seventeen he would have. At nearly twenty his smile just grows. “Have you ever done anything less?”

Is he pushing too? That could be fun.

“Oh, first year tribulations. Nothing since — you wouldn’t remember.”

“Hm, I do recall an unfortunate lesson with a matagot in Beasts, and that must have been, what—” He tilts his head as though to ponder it— “fourth year?”

You narrow your eyes. “Paid an ever-close watch on me, did you, Riddle?”

“As close as anyone else.”

“And by that you mean to say—?”

“Only that it’s a most fascinating custom, the matter of pureblood marriage. It was hard to avoid your name in a common room full of your particular politics.”

“Ah,” you hum, summoning the teapot from the kitchenette to pour another cup, “so my potential marital affairs are what drew your attention. And here I was thinking it was because I was the only person who could ever best you.”

He stops your tea mid-motion, and you still as he sends both the pot and the cup to the table beside you. “Can it not have begun as one and have become the other?”

“Well, your curiosity knows no end; I should be flattered by such multifaceted interest.”

“So you won’t mind my inquiring.”

“Whatever you wish, Riddle.”

“Upon the current status of your betrothal.”

You blink, and then laugh. “There is no betrothal. At present.”

“At present. Is it subject to change?”

“There’s always talk,” you offer, and it offers impressively little.

“Elaborate...”

“I don’t know that you’re in any position to be making demands,” you gibe, “considering I paid four sickles to prove you wrong and I haven’t anything to show for it but my pride.”

He smiles. “Not enough to sate your desire to make me grovel, it seems.”

“You? Grovel?” You gasp, fingers circling your knee idly. “What a fascinating concept… Wait now, I’m trying to paint the picture.”

“Is that not what you came for?” he asks, and it’s odd to see him amused by the idea. You push and push and he just continues to take. “To prove me wrong? To puncture my pride?”

You shrug innocently, even though you’d just said as much. “I’m here to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

He laughs, a warm, quiet laugh — more of a breath than anything — but true if you can read him at all, and that’s a bit alarming. “Of course. Near nine months of exhaustive translation all to bid me a nice holiday. It sounds almost like grovelling, doesn’t it? Wait, now, I’m trying to paint the picture.”

You bite back your smile. Damn him. He’s never been funny before. That’s a problematic development.

“Fine.” Your legs are already crossed and now you’re crossing your arms too, and you look very reserved compared to his relaxed stature. “A match would, of course, need to be of good title.”

“Of course,” Tom says, without even an attempt at masking his amusement.

“And he would need to be rich.”

“Naturally.”

“It would help to be from one of the Sacred Houses.”

“I should not expect anything less.”

“And I suppose age is a factor,” you go on. You push, and push, and push. Tom is impervious. He takes.

“What age would do well?”

“Near enough to my own. For health, of course.”

“For health,” he agrees delightedly.

What the hell are you talking about?

“It would be preferable that he be handsome.”

“And of his character?”

“Most agreeable.”

“Docile?”

“Hm, docile, yes.”

“It is a long list.”

“I’ve been told I’m a difficult woman to sate. Far too prideful, apparently.”

Your fingers are drawing figure-eights on your thigh now, and Tom’s eyes flash briefly to the motion. You stop as though caught, and you aren’t sure why.

“A defamatory accusation,” he says quietly.

You wonder if his voice has always had that tinge to it: the gravel underlining his polish like the crack of the fire, and — that must be why it’s so warm in here, too. It has been that way since you arrived, hasn’t it? Such polarising temperatures between your walk in the snow to this, you must have only just adjusted… an hour after arriving. It’s completely logical.

“So there are talks,” you repeat, if only because you’ve blanked on all else.

“Well,” he says, eyes boring into yours in a way that makes you feel transparent, “I wish you all the best. If it at all helps, you can now add a moderate understanding of Latin to your list of virtues.”

You drape an arm across your chair to match his easy posture. (And how is it he manages to look regal and informal at the same time?) “My list of virtues? Elaborate.”

He shakes his head with a small smile and you point an accusatory finger at him. “Ah, ah, Riddle — I won, remember? And I indulged your inquiring regardless.”

His eyes narrow. “You do want me to grovel.”

“It’s Christmas.”

“I don’t believe that’s the purpose of the day.”

“And that matters to you?”

He leans forward, looking over you as if your supposed virtues will reveal themselves upon scrutiny. It’s a bit offensive, really. You’d hope he could find more than enough with one glance.

He settles, after a long moment where you feel almost bare, on, “Your pride is agonising.”

It’s — not exactly what you were hoping for. Not quite grovelling, by any definition, but then, what did you expect from him?

“Excuse me?”

“Your stockings are ripped at the calf.”

“Riddle—”

“Your lipstick may have stained my teacup. It is a shade I’m rather fond of, but I do not wish to see a trace of it left behind.”

“Quite good,” you say through gritted teeth.

“And I should not be agonised — incautious and unfettered at a sliver of skin or the gesture of your mouth —” You realise with horror that he’s speaking through something constrained too — “and yet I am.”

It’s — is that a confession? Have you broken him? Have you won again? Your stomach flips and it doesn’t feel at all like winning. He certainly doesn’t look like a man who’s lost. In fact, he’s watching you intently, and at your lack of response, the constraint forming a taut line on his lips seems to slip back into something deliberate. Curious.

You recover to the best of your ability. “It is a short list.”

“Shall I go on?” he asks, and it’s an answer, too: no, you have most definitely not broken him. He looks a bit like he’s found a neat pathway to breaking you instead.

“I’d hate to debase you further.”

He leans in, and he might be about to stand, and that might be an irreversible thing to do. “Are you sure? I can’t imagine you’ve painted the picture yet.”

Oh, you’ve painted the picture. You’ve painted a gallery.

“I find the image regrettable half-done. No point finishing it now.”

You do not.

“And besides,” you add, “I know my virtues.”

He smiles, and he’s half orange in the firelight and half blue in the night, green somewhere in the middle, and he should be condemned for being this beautiful. “Elaborate.”

You shouldn’t. “I’m intelligent.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m a quick learner.”

“So I’ve seen,” he agrees, still leaning in.

“I’m good at my job.”

And then he stands.

It is an irreversible thing. Your heart lurches like it knows he’s going to do something that cannot be undone. Your heart lurches because it is a thing you’ve anticipated, quietly, on late nights in scrolls of Latin so you might be able to pretend to mistranslate them — you know, in your first tongue and any other, that you do not want it to be undone.

“Anything else?” he asks. You aren’t sure if you’re resentful of the proximity of his seat to yours or grateful for it, because it takes no time at all for him to be standing before you.

“I’m well-mannered,” you say, and it comes out quieter than you mean for it to. “Lettered in etiquette.”

“Etiquette," he repeats slowly, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, and you don't quite know how he manages an intonation like that, but there it is, dripping with so much contempt you’re surprised he doesn’t fall over.

It wouldn’t be terrible if he did. He’d land right on top of you and put this little game to rest.

Instead he reaches a hand to your cheek — your hair — and brushes it like it’s an absolutely standard thing to do. He pulls away just the same. As if his hand is familiar with the shape of your face because it’s been there before. You'd definitely remember if it had.

“Of course,” you breathe, “patience and pleases and thank yous.”

“In all your manners, you might provide an example.”

Fine. If he’s going to be difficult. “I’d say I’m displaying great patience right now.”

“Hm.” His hands find yours where they sit on either arm of your chair, and his figure is blocking all light now. It shines on his shoulders, casts him like an aura. “That’s one.”

You look at his lips, and don’t bother to look away. You incline forward as much as you can when you’re caged in like this, until his breath is on yours and you can smell his cologne.

“Please,” you say, and for the challenge in it you don’t feel too humbled.

He is most obliging.

His lips just barely brush yours at first, and you did say you were patient — so you wait. The feather-light touch of them stills before it deepens, his hands pressing down on yours. Your open mouth. His tongue. You're kissing him, breathlessly and frantically and completely, and it is all you want.

Tom pulls back and you instinctively push forward. You will your eyes to open and he’s still right there — he hasn’t gone anywhere (what a deranged concern that is) — lips an inch from yours, and he’s smiling.

“That’s two.”

Oh. Oh, he’s an aberration in human variance. There’s something incredibly wrong with him.

There isn’t a way of turning gratitude into a challenge, you think. It doesn’t ask for anything. It appreciates. In this case it would more closely resemble worship. Thank you for your kiss, Riddle, I’d be nothing without it.

So you search to find a way around it that still gets you what you want.

“I’ll need a bit more than a lousy kiss if you want to see me grovel, Riddle." Your voice is a bit rough. You don’t know that your confidence lands the way it typically does.

But you came here to — what was it — puncture his pride? Push him until he breaks? You’ve already made it halfway, and you are, after all, very good at it.

And you suppose he wants to earn the third, because he scowls and then he’s kissing you again and this time his hands are on your face, and perhaps they are somehow familiar with the shape because they fit around you in some inexplicably whole way, like they were made for it. With your hands free, you’re carding your fingers through his hair, hoping for that vision of him you imagined earlier, with thick, messy waves and flushed cheeks.

Tom brings a hand to your waist and tugs you in, and you’re partly pulled from the chair by his insistence and overwhelmingly pushing to get out of it yourself, lips never leaving his as you stumble past the meagre divider to his bed.

The backs of your thighs hit the footboard and your knees buckle, gasping away from Tom’s mouth as you reach for the bedpost. His breath is heavy as his hand curves to the small of your back to keep you steady, your dress bunched in his fist, and there’s a heat in him pressed against you, like a match being held to kindling. And in the flash of fire when it finally strikes, everything in his eyes is clear, singularly focused, and he's pushing you to your back, splayed across his tidy sheets as he kisses you with bruising ferocity.

There's an urgency now to his movements that wasn't there before, and it's a stark contrast to his usual calculated demeanour, but that feels like winning. That feels like breaking Tom Riddle, whittling years of practised constraint to… this. That draws the third: makes you nice and grateful like he asked, because no part of you wants his careful fortitude here. You want to ruin him.

He appears to want the very same from you, which wrecks the whole thing.

Your legs move to wrap around him and he stops you, one hand pinning you by the hip and then down, past where you think he’ll go, as he finds the hem of your dress and lifts it from your calf to your knee. He draws circles over the thinly-clothed skin and you can do nothing but lie there, panting a little, staring at him with less patience than you’d proclaimed to have. And then his fingers move upwards, and they’re drawing figure-eights, and you understand that if this isn’t a taunt, nothing is. He copies your earlier motions. He does not kiss you. His fingers trail higher and higher and they’re soft like the shadows framing his face.

Finally he finds the waistband of your stockings and begins to tug them down your hips, stopping when he reaches that sliver of skin revealed by a tear in the fabric, taking your leg and hiking it up so he can look closely. He smiles, finger sliding down the tear in such a precise, meticulous fashion you can’t help but think he’s doing it on purpose. The moment does not linger when he pulls away, shuffling your stockings down the rest of the way so your legs are unclad before him, your heels already kicked off somewhere across the floor.

He watches your sharp exhale when he ducks down to kiss the skin of your thigh. A shiver runs through you at his softness, another when you see his face, see his eyes go dark with want of you.

His constraint is back, and it’s fucking detrimental. The only silver lining you can find in it, and you hope to be correct (haven’t you been so far?), is that maybe that means Tom Riddle can be broken in litany. Maybe he amends his ruination now but you can carve it out of him again later.

“Come here,” you say, your voice ragged.

Tom frowns, one hand pursuing a dangerous path up the inside of your thigh. “And here I was under the impression you wanted me to grovel.”

“Oh,” you huff, “is that what this is? Not some feeble attempt at winning after I —”

You grip his hair as his fingers curl under the lace of your underwear, as he smiles at the dampness there, the way your argument dissipates beneath his touch. “Winning?” he derides, breathy to match your tone in a way that feels cruel rather than considerate. You nod even as your breathing accelerates and he lifts the skirt of your dress to rest over your thighs, his eyes darting between your legs and your own heavy gaze as if he can't decide which is more intriguing. And then he slides a finger across your heat and you think he’s made his choice. "Is that what you think I want?"

You blink, feeling a bit lost. "What else is there?"

“Will you thank me after this?”

Right. That. You swallow, head falling back on his pillow. “Doubtful.”

“Hm,” he mumbles, some kind of consideration that can only be answered by the movement of his fingers against you, slow as they seek to learn you.

You arrest the moan that rises in your throat, teeth clenching together as Tom climbs over you once more, his body keeping you in place to watch the sustained details of your expression as one of his fingers dips inside you. You hiss, and his gaze burns into you, his mouth parted with a degree of awe and you think perhaps this is the picture he painted — you, under him, eyebrows pinched together as your hands scramble for purchase on his chest, fighting to remain intact.

But then his thumb brushes up against your clit and you let out a sound — half a moan, half a mewl. Tom doesn't give you a second to recover as his lips come down on yours again, hard, desperate, like he's trying to inhale you. And you let him, you take the little bit of ruin he surrenders in the great expanse of yours.

Even if you could quiet your noises you stand to think Tom would feel them, taste them, bite down on them like he does your lower lip, a second finger coiling into you. Your hand smacks at his wrist, clutching his arm with such intensity you can feel every sinew of his movement as he works away at you. Your legs are trembling, pressing around his waist an act of simultaneous resistance and desperation as you push upwards for friction and conquest.

You find both. Undeniable hunger — how he groans softly against your open mouth, how the imprint against your thigh is hard under his trousers, how he wants you.

His ministrations only intensify when your hand searches for the buckle of his belt, gripping your jaw like he needs to watch you fall apart before you can find parity in your desperation. It isn’t an impossible wish; your mind is hazy at the push and pull of his fingers, curving where his thumb draws ceaselessly on the other side, and you think, as much as you’re able right now, that he could succeed. But you force your eyes open to the space where your hand is wedged between your bodies, yanking hastily at his belt and sighing into his shoulder as it unfastens.

His trousers are unbuttoned, unzipped, and you’re arching into him with laboured pants even when your hand slips past them to find skin you've never travelled before.

Tom’s motions stagger when your fingers brush experimentally over his length, and you suddenly understand his ardent focus. You can’t help but stare at the way his jaw ticks, a hiss parting through gritted teeth, and the fact that you’re doing this to him is almost enough to push you over the edge. You grip him in one hand, and his fingers move again like some act of defiance, tightening his hold on your jaw. And then you’re pumping slowly, carefully, the only way you think to with the intention of pleasing him. Of weakening him.

He turns your head so you’re gasping into the pillow, neck exposed for him to press his mouth to. His teeth and tongue are on you and your hand slips from him for a moment as you shudder. Fuck him. This isn’t enough. You won't lose like this.

You tug at his waistcoat now, snapping open the buttons until the last few are clinging on by cheap threads. You’ll buy him that suit, you think. One that you can shrug off as fervently as you like without worrying about tearing the seams.

Your removal of his shirt is not aided by the swelling fire inside you, how the attention of his fingers has remained steady through your squirming and it feels like it’s culminating to something fatal. Your fingers grow shakier but don't stop their pursuit until every button is undone and you can soothe their trembling by pressing your palms against the warm expanse of his chest.

And then they’re back in his trousers, pushing them down his thighs as he continues to chip away at you. You bite back moans and blink through your dizziness.

Tom stops, and it might be more devastating than if he hadn’t. Your body is taut, a fine, thrumming wire spared a moment before snapping.

“More,” is all you say, tracing the shape of him through his briefs.

“More?” he asks. There’s a small mercy in the rasp within in his voice, the uncertainty despite himself. “I suppose that means I win.”

“Win?”

His gall almost, almost pulls you back to reality. But he’s — he’s pulling his trousers further down and your body, like some separate entity to your mind, is flush against him when he’s finally free of all obstructions.

“Mhm,” he hums, and almost-reality dwindles away into fucking nothing — disappears before your eyes when he brings his finger to his tongue and tastes you.

You tear him back to your mouth with a sound that so desperate your humility shouldn’t be able to take it but that's all gone now. His lips are wet and swollen and you’re adjusting yourself so his hips are lined with yours, and your head rolls back when he positions himself against your core and stays there.

“I win,” you breathe. “Everything else is just—”

He moves, hands on your waist as he presses ever-so-slightly inside you. You clutch wildly at his arms, your eyes wrenching shut.

“Look at me,” he says softly. His thumb caresses your cheek as if any act of his acts of tenderness are at all actually tender and not depraved requests for your resignation.

You shake your head. “It’s ju-just—”

He sinks further, unhurried, and you feel like crying, your body clenching around him as the pressure deepens.

“Just what?” he asks, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Just… um, just…”

“Hm?”

“I win... s’just… cheating…”

You feel him smiling against your neck, and then he detaches his lips to observe you, nodding with false sympathy. “You win.”

And he shifts himself forward so he’s pushed to the hilt.

It’s a lie. It’s a lie as Tom holds you against him, carving kisses into your skin that burn, as you shudder a moan into the thick, hot air, as he begins to move rhythmically inside you, your fingers digging crescent moons into his spine and dragging.

You don't win.

If you are steel honed over years, it’s this moment that you melt, and you think if you were to be fused again it would be in a different shape.

And you mean that. You honestly feel liquified when he splits you slow like this, rolling his hips as you cling to him for strength like he isn’t the thing shattering you.

You rock to meet him, you bury your nails in his back, you rest your moans with your teeth in his shoulder — whatever you can think to make this fair. Make true to your word. You are going to break, it's true, but you are going to break Tom Riddle too.

“Fingers,” you mutter, far too much of a demand for the way it almost stumbles into a sob, but Tom makes a strained sound in the back of his throat as if it gratifies him that you want it enough to ask.

“Thank me,” he answers on a harsh exhale.

You bite at his collar, shaking your head, but your legs are starting to shake and you wouldn’t ask if it was something you wanted — you mask it as an order because you need it. Because you imagine what he’s doing now combined with his thumb on your clit and it’s enough to make your abdomen clench just thinking about it.

Instead one of your hands forsakes the sweet curve of his muscles every time he thrusts into you so that it can snake between your own legs, and you mimic his earlier ministrations just long enough to drive a moan from your lips before Tom’s eyes dart from your lips, the rise and fall of your chest, to the hand missing from his back.

He grabs it with a scowl, pinning one wrist and then the other above your head.

“Stubborn,” he hisses, and he buries himself inside you like it's something personal, persistent in his strokes when his fingers finally rub over you how you wanted.

And you know you’ve done it when his head falls on your shoulder and you feel yourself tighten around him. His grip on your wrists is punishing. His mouth on your shoulder is stringent. He’s hard and full inside you and his fingers slide against you in delicate, torturous contrast. You know because it all stutters a bit when you pull him into a kiss, when you know you’re about to plummet into oblivion and he’s gripping you through it like you might steady him — like you aren’t the thing shattering him.

When you do, it’s something visceral. You think you might be spinning, or floating — screaming, maybe — spilling ill-mannered expletives in strings with his name because your hands are still trapped under his and your body can do nothing else. What you know, undoubtedly, is that you’re coming down from it for a long time, in a haze when you manage to breathe the words into his ear. “Thank you.”

Tom breaks. It’s the most beautiful you think he’s ever looked; eyebrows cinched and pink mouth parted, hair mussed like you wanted, neck tense as he stills inside you and you feel every part of him let go.

Your legs are too weak to cling to him through it, and you just pant under him, blinking languidly and in awe.

You stay like that for a long time.

He leans in when he finally pulls out of you, kissing you like one form of contact must be replaced with another. It's the same with his hands. He sinks into the space beside you and releases your wrists just to cup your face instead.

Yours come up instantly and shamelessly to his hair, craving nothing more than to curl your fingers through the dark mess of it. You trace the sharp shape of his cheeks, too, like his did to yours, like you need to memorize the lines of his expression and the heat of his skin before the world outside seeps in and it all goes cold.

But you pull away and you can't imagine it will.

There’s something in his eyes that feels new. Longing like he’s shed all pretence of acting like nine years of treading the lines of this rivalry has ever been anything but a pathetic display, like he knows you've shed it too. It makes you catch your breath to think this is what it feels like to be desired by Tom Riddle; that you desire him all the same; all this time.

“You know,” you say, and your voice sticks dry to your mouth, “I still win.”

He shakes his head. He smiles. You want terribly to kiss him again.

“I’ll just have to find something else to best you in, won’t I?”

You pretend like you’re considering it and not just staring at him.

“I think by Christmas would be fair.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle smut #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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lilliankoo · 10 months

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“Titanic” series masterlist.

cast: jeon jungkook, y/n, kim mingyu, yoon jeonghan, sana, kim jennie and more.

pairing: artist! jungkook x rich y/n

synopsis: the year is 1912, the ship of dreams titanic is set to sail, among thousands of people abord, a twenty year old young woman falls in love with a young man she is supposed to stay away from. the fate plays its own game and the pair keeps tangling in each other’s life. when the pair decides to start a new life together, the fate rolls the dice once again, and the star crossed lovers are faced with an ill-fated conclusion.

first & second chapter is out! 2/7

inspiration: the movie titanic: not the entire plot but some aspects of it; the aesthetic, mild story line, symbolism etc.

genre: strangers to lovers, smut, star crossed lovers but with a twist!, happy ending.

rating: 18+

word count: seven chapter series, tbd.

warnings: tbd. more will be added as the series progress but overall: smutt (it is going to be intense) , age gap (jk is 24 and yn is 20) death (not main characters), descriptions of nud3 paintings, descriptions of violence (mild), ocean/water (?), rich/poor themes, classism, mild racism etc.

series playlist: the night we met- lord huron, i wanna be yours- arctic monkeys, brooklyn baby- lana del rey, apocalypse- cigarettes after sex, always forever- cults, until i found you- stephen sanchez, video games- lana del rey, fine line- harry styles.

author’s note: omgg finally im going to post this instead of debating and thinking abt “what ifs”. i have so manny ideas and stories i wanna share i hope u will like it! im going to start these series sooon so yes lets get it.

disclaimer: in no way, shape or form i intend to copy or plagiarize, this is just for fun, i do not own the pics, this does not describe jungkook hes just a “cast/actor” and so does everyone else in the fic.

chapter I: ship of dreams

chapter II: brooklyn baby

chapter III: like one of your french girls

chapter IV: letters i never sent

chapter V: diamonds, wax candles & stars

chapter VI: you jump, i jump

chapter VII: heart of the ocean

let me know if you would like to be tagged!

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leinawosaf · 2 months

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Fireproof - 00

fireproof

by leinawosaf498

"I dont wanna lie, I've been relying on you"

Sofia doesn't know where to go with her life after getting kicked out of her family home. Why not do everything she wanted?

Swearing, violence, and some sexual scenes will be included.

Inspired by "The Beach" by the neighbourhood.

enjoy.

fireproof on wattpad

#angst #smutt #fanfic #love #mafia #mafia au #mafia romance #romance #dark romance #wattpad #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #steamy #fluff #cute

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popp1nstaxr · 7 months

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'Cigarettes And Feelings'

Content: Smutt (minor dni), nsfw, Dom! soft BeomGyu and Fem! Sub reader, mention of illicit substances (drugs, alcohol, cigarettes among others), friends to lovers, soft, oral sex, breast play, couch sex, and overstimulation.

Preview:

You and BeomGyu have always been friends since you were little maybe... but today, in the middle of all that smoke, the feelings seemed to come to light, ending with both of you wrapped up in the sheets...

My first language IS NOT ENGLISH so I regret any misspelling or any errors in the narration...

Without further ado, like, reblog and follow me for more sweetheart, enjoy reading!! ><

It had certainly been a long day, or so you thought, because you had been busy all day, paperwork and studying seemed to take up a lot of your time and even more so because of the final exams, you really needed a break, that was clear.

And this is why when your best friend; BeomGyu, invites you to his house to watch a movie, you decide to accept. You needed that break.

Now, let's introduce BeomGyu...

Choi was a red-haired boy with hair that was a little long to his shoulders, he always had messy hair and wore a lot of baggy clothes, his clothing was based on a t-shirt from some rock band along with blue or light blue jeans, and he isn't very creative in his clothing, he always had his skateboard in his hands, he never separated from it at all, it even seemed to be some necessary accessory of his.

Even though he wasn't the best student in the university, he still seemed to have good grades somehow.

Anyway, now they had finished the movie, it was a horror movie, maybe a bit cliche, but how can you not relieve stress with a good terrifying movie?

"It wasn't even that good.." BeomGyu spoke rolling his eyes as you watched him take out the movie and look for something else to watch, you laughed at that "You were more scared than me, and you say it wasn't good?" You mentioned, teasing him a little.

He made a face of indignation "Just because it scared me doesn't mean the movie was good... it could have been screams of horror at the horrible cinematic abomination" he said, defending himself and you laughed again "Yeah, whatever you say."

He smiled at you and moved closer to you on the couch, putting one of his arms around your shoulder. “Hey and...what happened to Soobin?” He asked, clearing his throat a little and looking at you.

You let out a sigh, Soobin, he was the boy you had been dating for some time, yes, he was... kind, attentive and cute, also very intelligent but there was something that you didn't quite like, he just couldn't convince you and of course he It wasn't BeomGyu.

"It didn't work" was all you said, uninterested and you took the remote from him, this time looking for something to put on Netflix "Shall we watch Mean Girls?" You asked and smiled, yes, a classic, how could you not see it?

He smiled equally and nodded.

As the movie started, BeomGyu got up from your side and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a lighter, taking out a leaf of marijuana, you already knew what he was going to do, and you just rolled your eyes, you hated when he smoked that kind of stuff.

"Again? Gyu, I still think you shouldn't do those things..." you spoke, scolding him a little.

He pouted "It's just this time, I need to relax, the exams have been very stressful and I'm not addicted to this either... it's just a little, Y/N" he tried to explain and sat down next to you again, turning on that cigarette he had made to smoke that substance.

You sighed, there wasn't much you could do, anyway, you were already inhaling the cigarette smoke, releasing it later while you watched the movie.

In a few minutes of silence, BeomGyu began to touch your hair with his free hand, playing with it, you didn't pay attention until he took your face with that same hand, squeezing your cheeks a little and made you look at him, he smiled at you and laughed low, He was under the effect of that drug...

"You are very cute you know?" He spoke squeezing your face and laughed again, his cheeks were red.

"BeomGyu, now, stop that..." you spoke and leaned down to try to take the harmful cigarette away from him, he let go of you and pouted, almost like it was a toddler tantrum.

"No," he said and walked away from you, taking another drag on the cigarette and letting out a laugh as soon as he released the smoke from his lungs. "Why don't you try some? You'll relaaaaax~" he spoke and brought the cigarette to your mouth.

You were going to refuse and scold him again, but... maybe, it could help you, you were been stressed and tired that day... a break from everything definitely wouldn't hurt. You brought your face closer to the cigarette he offered you and took a drag, you felt the smoke go down your throat into your lungs, you held the smoke in as long as you could and then you let it out, BeomGyu smiled. "That is my girl"

In a few more minutes, they were both under the influence of drugs, and they were talking, simply slurring their words.

At one point the cigarette ran out and you were both just on the couch, in silence, you played with BeomGyu's hair and he left it, the movie had ended and there was only silence in the room, at one point BeomGyu approached you and their breaths collided, they looked at each other, without saying anything about it and he smiled "can I kiss you..?" He murmured, moving closer to you and brushing your lips against his.

You just watched him, you looked at his lips... so... striking, you licked yours "Yes..." you whispered in response and he approached you.

Their lips joined in a slow kiss, BeomGyu dedicated himself to tasting your lips and it was noticeable by how you felt his tongue explore your entire oral cavity, he lightly bit your lip, making you release a small gasp, he smiled between the kiss and now, a of his hands was on your neck, pushing you a little to deepen the kiss.

When they finally separated, he sighed, gladly, and it didn't take him long to take you by the waist and climb onto his lap. You settled down and put your hands on his shoulders.

"Do you want to continue or..?" He murmured again, brushing his lips on purpose and caressing your hips with his hands, you nodded and he smiled, bringing your lips together again, while his hands found the hem of your clothes, putting his hands under your blouse and caressing your back gently, devouring your lips.

You could feel his cock in your ass, despite the clothing, there was slight friction that he decided to increase when he took your hips and began to guide your movements over him, separating from the kiss, lowering his lips to your neck, leaving small kisses there. moist, sometimes biting the skin a little.

You heard him pant on your neck, you felt his hot breath there and he smiled "So, yes, arch your back a little, beautiful..." he spoke and told you how to do it, guiding you with his hands, and he stretched his head back a little. little and he squeezed your hips tightly with his hands and forced you to stay on his cock, making you jump on him and thus cause small attacks even above your clothes.

He stopped you and licked his lips, but that was not enough, he laid you on the couch and climbed on top, immediately going to devour your neck, unbuttoning your blouse in the process until leaving you exposed, he threw the garment somewhere in the living room and he unhooked your bra, he smiled when he saw your nipples and licked his lips.

"So pretty..." he spoke to himself and put his mouth on one of them, sucking as he massaged your other breast with one of his hands, his free hand moving down your abdomen to your thigh, caressing there slowly and squeezing lightly until He let go of your breasts and licked his lips, he lifted your skirt and gently touched your intimacy over your panties, smiling when he saw your reactions that's why "you're a little anxious, beautiful..." he spoke and laughed softly, he lowered your panties and put them in gently two of his fingers in your intimacy, penetrating there with them.

"Mgm, G-Gyu~" you moaned, sighing and he smiled, lowering his face and while he penetrated you he kissed your thighs, leaving small hickeys there, pleased to see the purple marks on your legs "Do you know something, precious? I always wanted this... with you, you are... a dream.." he murmured against your skin and took his fingers out of your intimacy, licking your liquids that were on his fingers and again he licked his lips so sweet he thought before starting to use your language in your privacy.

He gladly drank all your liquids and licked your vaginal walls, not caring how they stained his face. I wanted to destroy you, in every sense of the word. "Can you cum? Like this? For me..?" He asked softly as he pulled his head out of your folds and licked his lips, smiling before burying his face in you again.

It would be such a long night...

●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬୧✬୨▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬●

Like and reblog for more !! <3

#txt #txt fanfic #txt au #txt imagines #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #txt angst #txt scenarios #txt hard hours #hard hours #beomgyu smut #txt smut #smut #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu txt #txt beomgyu #beomgyu imagines

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crazychrisl0v3r · 2 months

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𝙩𝙪 𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙞?

(translates to do you love me)

Colour Roles

Chris 🟠

Matt 🔵

Nick 🟣

Y/N 💕

Contents: SMUTT! Chris:dom, reader:sub, use of y/n, p in v, no kink in particular, suggestive language, enemies to lovers, masturbation (fem), fingering, dick sucking, face fucking, overstimulation.

!DISCLAIMER!

If you are younger than the age of 18, it is recommended not to read the following content. If you are uncomfortable with people writing about the triplets this way, click off the page!! This is in English, just the title is French. With that, enjoy my lovelies.

P art 1/1 (Willing to make more if anyone asks otherwise. Send suggestions in my question box!)

chris sturniolo. ive never hated anyone more. his stupid cocky smile whenever we argue about something and he ends up being right, his stupid beanies that he wears wrong all the time and never fixes them, and the way i could want nothing more than for him to fuck me dumb.

ah yes, maybe i should bring up the fact that i’m in love with someone i can’t stand. sure his personality is ass and his incompetence is unbearable, but i’m sure he’s nothing but small. he can’t be. whenever he meets a new girl that he finds at his party his bulge in his pants is bigger than his ego.

i stay sitting here thinking about all of the things he can do to me, however i get snapped out of the trance when the bright light shines in my face. i cover my eyes when it starts to burn. “matt!” i sigh. “move it to the left a little please, i can’t see.” after he moves it, i nod saying a little “thank you” “aw, poor little y/n!” chris says mockingly as i roll my eyes.

“her poor little eyes can’t handle the bright light” he pouts tauntingly. i push his face back lightly and his muscly arm brushes against the dashboard. “shut up chris.” matt rolls his eyes as he gets back into the drivers seat. “do you guys ever stop fighting? like seriously.” “whatever matt, let’s just start the video.” nick says as he adjusts himself in his seat. i’m only ever around chris since nick is my best friend and i’m always with him.

“so!” matt says as he claps his hands together gently. “this Friday’s video is gonna be another smash or pass but this time with celebrities. my eyebrows raise and i smile. “ooh, sounds interesting.” i giggle slightly as i look at nick. “you guys already know that once david harbour comes out, so do i.” we all chuckle for a second. “didn’t you come out in freshman year?” chris says with a smile. “i’ll do it again for daddy david” we all burst out into laughter.

throughout the video, i’ve been staring at chris. the way when he laughs, his arms flex and i can see his muscles. oh and his adorable laugh. “HAHAH!!” when he laughs i can’t help but smile. when he stretches and throws his head back, his hair falling with him and his adams apple poking out. fuck, i can’t get enough. i’m glad nick didn’t notice, but he’s definitely gonna notice while editing tonight.

once we get home, i run into the washroom and close the door behind me, locking it. i sit down on the counter, sighing as i pull down my skirt and panties. i look at the pool created in between my legs and bite my bottom lip, running my fingers up and down my folds. i shudder quietly as i begin to rub my clit trying to suppress my moans. I grip onto the counter with my other hand, trying to stabilize myself.

i slowly insert our finger inside me, curling it up and hitting my g spot. i let m’y head fall back, my two braids falling with it as the black bows on the ends sway. i let out small whimpers as i start to thrust in and out of myself. i my grip on the counter becomes harder when i add another two fingers before i hear a bang on the door. “y/n, you in there?!” i don’t stop. i go even faster even, his yelling my name sounding like music to my ears.

“um, y-yeah!” i yelp and bite my bottom lip, clearing my throat as i try to cover it up. “uhh… you okay..?” my eyes roll back as i continue to fuck myself with my three fingers. “never better!” i shudder quietly as i finish all over my hand, taking a towel and cleaning myself up. i put m’y clothes that i discarded back on and wash my hands. i open the door and unlock it, smiling up at him “someone’s happy, hm?”

i raise an eyebrow as my big doe eyes stare up at him. “what do you mean?” “never seen that pretty smile that big before. at least not at me. you had time to cum, right?” he smirks as he sees the look on my face. that dumb fucking smirk. i turn red and look up at him. “w-what..?” before i can say anything else, he crashes his lips into mine. i grip onto his brown locks gently as i let out a small and quiet moan, covered by the noises of our lips smacking together.

as he kisses me, he picks me up as i wrap my legs around his body. our lips don’t part as we walk downstairs to his room, closing the door behind us. he throws me onto his bed, unbuckling his belt on his jeans. “you never shut the fuck up, do you?” his 9 inches spring out and my eyes widen at the sight. “holy shit.” i mumble as i look at his dick bounce a bit when he walks up to me. he grabs my throat and tilts my head up to look at his eyes. “didn’t your parents ever teach you it’s rude to stare?” he pushes me onto my knees, shoving his cock in my mouth. “about time i shut you up”

i choke around his cock as he face fucks me, shoving it deep into my throat. i moan and gag, taking him as deep as i can. he continues to thrust into my face, his hand finding my hair as he bobs my head. he groans and pauses to throw his tank top to the side before continuing. he throws his head back as his eyes flutter. his hair sticks to his sweaty forehead as his abs glisten. he could never look hotter. i could cum at the sight.

he looks down at me as i look him directly through my lashes, stroking him with my small and gentle hand because i couldn’t fit how big he is in my mouth. “fuck baby, just like that.” he twitches in my mouth, about to cum, but he pulls out with a grunt. he doesn’t want to finish just yet. he gets down at my level, holding my face gently. “you are beautiful.” i smile and blush. “thank you.” “can’t wait to see your face when i fuck you so hard that you can’t walk for days.” my eyes widen and he picks me up like i weigh nothing, throwing me gently onto the bed. i giggle quietly and look at him.

his head sinks in between my legs as he takes off my skirt and tears off my panties. my breath hisses as the fabric tears off of my pussy. before i can speak, he starts leaving open mouthed kisses on my thick thighs. i whine. “Chris, please don’t tease” i get shut up by his mouth on my clit, sucking and liking my nub. i let out a breathy moan as he starts lapping in. between my folds. for some reason, he stops. i pout. “why’d you stop?” i say as i furrow my brows, disappointed that the pleasure that had washed over me disappeared so suddenly. “you want me to fuck you, no?” i nod and he immediately flips me over into his favorite position. face down ass up.

before i can adjust, he shoves his cock in me and deep in. “fuck!” i moan out loudly as he thrusts into me roughly, quickly being hushed my Chris’s veiny hand over my mouth. “shhh baby, you don’t want nick and matt to hear us now. do you?” “N-No.” i moan out, muted by his hand keeping me quiet. he keeps on plunging into me, going deeper and deeper each thrust. I let out hushed moans and whimpers every time his tip kisses my cervix.

i clench around his cock, my orgasm in near sight. “c-coming!! i’m coming!” i manage to get out before creaming all over his cock as my eyes roll to the back of my head. i notice he doesn’t stop, shit, he goes faster. “c-Chris! it hurts!!” he drops my head into the pillow, thrusting with more power as little tears trickle down my cheeks. “oh shut the fuck up and take it.” chris says in a demanding voice. i grip onto the sheets while being railed into. my mind goes fuzzy and my eyes are half lidded. all i can think about is chris’s dick inside my cunt. “fucked you dumb, hm?” he says tauntingly. about to reach my high for the second time, however, he pulls out and finishes on the small of my back. “but i didn’t-“ i get cut off by two fingers being shoved inside me, curling up to hit my g-spot. “Chris!!” i moan out his name, not caring if they hear us anymore.

he keeps on fingering me, leaning down and whispering dirty things in my ear. “someone’s about to cum hm? you’re clenching.” he keeps on talking to me, adding his other hand and rubbing my clit with it. “CHRIS!!!” i say his name again, screaming this time. i cum all over his hands as my legs shake. i collapse onto the bed, my body twitching. he pulls his fingers out of me and kisses my neck soothingly, rubbing my back. “shhh, it’s okay.” he smiles and i look up at him. i cuddle up to him and sigh. “do you love me?” he’s taken aback, as if what i just said is ridiculous. “of course i do. what kind of question is that.” i smile. “i just… we fight a lot.” i look away and fiddle with my hands. he takes my face gently and pulls it towards him. i look up at him with doe eyes.

“we fought, sure, but not anymore. not after this.” he grabs the back of my head with his hand gently and placed a kiss on my forehead. i smile up at him. “okay.”

SMALL TIMESKIP

after cleaning up a bit and cuddling. we both end up on our phones. i see that nick and matt both sent me snaps and i burst out laughter when i open them. i show chris.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #smut

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mattmurdock42 · 4 months

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Enemy to Lovers

Summary: you go with your friends and Henry to an island, little you know what it will happen!

Warnings: unprotected sex. P in V. Face ridding, smutt, fluff, angst.

Wc: +-5k

( Henry e y/n, you are best friend with a woman whose husband is best friend with henry/ you secretly worked for the cia and henry for the mi6/ your friends didn´t know that you were enemies, always fighting over a clue on some case or some testemuny/ you had already got into serious fights/ during dinners in your friends house you´d always smile and tried to be polite, but you could feel tension/ they decided to go on a trip)

You worked for CIA, at England, since six years ago. It was a secret job, CIA had other undercover job for you, the owner of a bakery. You could say you had a normal life, excluding trips around the country for missions behind clues on cases, victims and assassins. You had been friend with Camilla since you moved to the UK. She's been your best friend, always supportive and respectable, which was perfect. She was a lawyer at a bank company and maried to Nicolas, Nick, who also worked at the bank. They loved to have dinners at their house, always inviting you, Camilla´s best friend, and Henry Cavill, Nick´s best friend. You were always happy to go, but there was only one problem, Cavill. You could say you were practically enemies. He secretly worked at MI6, who also had an undercovered job, as a baker, for your luck. The couple would always say that you should work togheter and this kind of things. You´d always laugh to not give up the disguise.

You had nothing against Cavill, if it were not for him always trying to still parts of your work to take it to MI6. You both had already fought over many things. The most serious fight was one, body to body: he was unarmed, you were with daggers. He left bleeding, and you passed out on the floor. You could barely look at each other without getting mad.

--------------~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~------------

It was the end of the year, and Cami and Nick were helding a dinner party at their house for family and friends. During dinner, Cami says for you to stay after it was over, she had something to ask you.

Dinner was over and there you stood, with the couple and Cavill.

"So, we have something to ask to you two. January third we are going to celebrate seven years of marriage in Maldivas´s island, and we would be very happy if you could come along. To show you how much it means to us your presence, we are going to pay your tickets to go and your accomodation." The couple said exited.

You didn´t know what to think.

"You have one week to answer us."

You both leave the house.

"Listen. Nick means a lot to me, so i´m going. I don´t think you should go." Henry says.

"Excuse me? Cami means a lot to me too. YOU shouldn´t go."

You both arf and go each to your houses.

The day of the trip arrives and you had already packed and was headed to Camilla´s house when suddenly, you see Cavill´s car parked in front of their house. You couldn´t belive you´d spent a week in a isolated island with your "enemy".

You entered the house and greeted the couple. You and Henry did your little "play".

You four head to the airport.

"My and Nick´s sits are B5 and B6. Your´s and Henry´s are E17 and E 18." Said Camilla to you. You didn´t like the idea of sitting with that jerk, but at least you were on first class. When you saw Cavill again, by his face, Nick had already told him the "great news".

You entered the plane and Cavill sat by the window. In the middle of the flight, you fell asleep, and, when you woke up, you were resting your head on Cavill´s massive shoulder. He was sleeping, so he didn´t noticed. You thanked god, otherwise he´d proably laugh at you for the rest of your life. (Little you knew that he was secretly awake and enjoying the little touch).

The plane landed. You were all tired and headed to the hotel. It was a huge, luxurious hotel. On the rception, you had the delightful news that you and Henry´d be staying at the same room.

"When we booked, it was already taken most of the rooms. And for the days we needed, only these were available. These and the couple´s suit. But the room is enourmous and has two beds, so it´ll have space for you both. i´m sure." Nick said for you two.

You were not believing it. The thought was unthinkable. Camilla pulled you to the side and said: " Sorry, y/n. We really tried, but we only got that room. If you'll have any troubles, tell me and i´ll send Nick to your room and you can stay with me."

"It is your aniversary, i´d never take Nick out of your room."

Cami smiled at you and said. " Thinking about it, Henry is really not that bad to look at. And the conversation will never stop, since you work in the same area. Think about it, girl." She winked at you, with a mischiveous smirk.

"You don´t exist, you know that?" You said.

Each of you went to your room. When you opened the door, there it was, only one COUPLE´s bed.

"There'd been a mistake, let´s go to the recpetion again." You said.

"Sorry, lady y/n, but that is the only room available. I´m sorry for our mistake, the site must be wrong, we´ll fix it right this afternoon!" The receptionist explained.

You went back to the room.

You looked at him.

"What now, mister smart pants?" you asked.

"You can sleep in the bed. I´ll order a bunch of pillows and blankets and sleep on the floor."

"Fine."

He called the reception and thirdy minutes later, a guy arrived with five pillows.

"Thank you, i have a bad lower back, so i need all this to sleep." He explained to the guy at the door, who was with an interogative face.

The first day, you four went to explore the hotel, to know all its activities and places to eat. The night came. Henry used the bathroom first, than you. You had rules: he´d shower and brush teeth first, to not rush you; right was your side, left was his. You didn´t speake to each other unless in front of the couple.

The second day of the trip ( one day after you arrived), Nick sugested for you to do a beach day, to rent a tend and spend the day there. The idea was lovely. You had so much fun, the food was great, girl talk with Camilla were amazing, and even Cavill behaved himself.

"So, how it´s been staying with Henry?" Asked Cami.

"It´s fine."

" i can imagine, that piece of fresh meat all around during the day. I don´t know how, but his scars make him even more handsome."

"What scars?" You didn´t notice, since you looked at him as minimum as possible.

"The one on his thigh, on his arm and on his lower back. I don´t know how he got it, but it seems pretty deep."

You looked at him, trying to catch sight of it.

"I had never seen him in summer clothes before, so i didn´t knew he got them."

The rest of the day was peacefull. You went back to your room and made your rotine. When Cavill got out of the shower, you glanced at his scars. You couldn´t tell why, but their places seemed familiar to you. You both were already layed.

"Good night." Cavill said.

"Good night."

The next day Cami wanted to see the capital. Another day passed.

The next day, you went to see the museum on the ocean. The couple had already dipped, so, the only known person you had to ask to tie your bikiny bra was Cavill.

"Do you know how to tie?"

"Do you know how to not say offensive things?" He said as he tied. When he went to put his oxygen tube, you heard him sigh. As you looked at him, his hand was on his lower back.

"Is that to heavy for you, big guy?"

"Shut up, fainty girl"

"You shut up, blood boy"

After the diving, when you came back to the little boat, your blood presure was low. It was normally low, but you were feeling weak. You managed to get back to the hotel looking fine. In the hall to your shared bedroom, you lean against the wall. He looks at you and see your eyes are narrowed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes!"

"Sure, you almost fainting again means that you are okay."

"Look, just shut up and go to the room."

"I can´t let you faint here, it´ll destory the trip."

"Lovely."

"Lean on me, i´ll help you to the bedroom."

"Not a chance, bloody." Suddenly, you black out.

You woke up on your bed. Henry was already asleep. There was a glass of water and some crackers left for you on your nightstand. You drank and ate it. After brushing your teeth and taking a shower, you were laying on yor bed, trying to go back to sleep, when you suddenly notices the situation of Cavill´s "bed". He only had 6 pillows and a sheet to make as bed, excluding this itens, he was on the bare floor.

The next day, Cami said that you were having a spa day. Some parts it would be the four of you togheter, some parts you and her or you and Cavill. Your muscles had never been more relaxed in your life. It only had one hour and a half left to end that spa day, before going back to your room and preparing yourself for dinner. You and Henry were put togheter at that time; you´d just have the final massage at the same room. You two were only in a towel, alone in a room, waiting for the massues.

"Thank you for the care last night. And thank you for not telling Camilla about it."

"Your welcome. I understand how bad it is to feel weak."

Time passed and you finished your massage and the dinner, then, you went back to your room. Before getting in the shower, you looked at Henry and asked:

"Didn´t you ask for blankets also?

"They didn´t have it, it is a hot island, after all. I forgot this wasn´t England."

"How can you sleep?"

"i don´t, actually."

You raised your brows to him.

"i´ve already been more days with bad sleep."

You didn´t believe him. It seemed that he´d lost 20 pounds and he had black eyes.

"You don´t seem ok. It´s clear that you lost significant weight. You konw, since you helped me, i´ll let you sleep in the bed, tonight."

"No. Then you´ll have to slepp on the floor."

"We could share the bed. We´ll make a pillow wall."

He seems to think for a while. But then, his ego gave up and he accepted, recognizing that he really didn´t look really healthy. After your shower, you saw two pillows in the middle of the bed.

"Why didn´t you put four pillows?"

"I need two for my lower back." He explains as he goes to the shower. After 15 minutes,he came back, only in a black pajama shorts, since it was hot as hell. Now, you were both layed.

"What happened to your lower back?" You interogated.

"I got stabed, it hitted the muscle; now, it is hard to get comfortable with it ragged."

Half an hour passed, but neither of you were sleepy.

"Haven´t slept eighter, hein?" he groaned.

"Yes, it´s been ages since i din´t relax like that, so i think my body instinctively feels alert." You commented.

"Same."

He looked at you and solicited:

"You know, what if, just for this night, we forget our jobs and have a conversation with each other, like normal people?" he asked.

"How can i forget how to be a baker?" He gave you a chuckle. You liked the sound.

"I could do that, for this night." You said.

"How long have you been working there?" He asked.

"Twelve years. And you?"

"Fifteen. ... Are your blood pressure always low?"

"No, just when i feel pressure over my body."

"Where are you from?"

"I was born in Krakow, but raised on Boston, EUA. I heard Nick saying you are from London."

"Yeah."

"If it weren´t for our jobs, we could have been friends, i think."

"This inteligences should have an organized diplomacy between then, so it wouldn´t affect anyone lives."

" It really should. I´m sorry for you having to sleep on the floor. I was rude on not offering you the bed before."

"There is no problem."

"If i may ask, how did you get those scars? I don´t know how, but they seem familiar to me."

"Well, i got them at a wednesday night. I nedded a video tape from an assassin, but other agent from another secret service showed and, we fought for it. I took the tape in the end, but i left bleeding."

"Henry, are those...are those mine?" You say, stretching an arm to feel the scar from his arm.

"Yes."

"i didn´t knew it hitted you so deep, i´m so sorry. Oh my god, am i the cause of your lower back pain?"

"I could say so."

You didn´t know what to say. You were feeling terible, he wasn´t a bad person, he was just doing his job. You moved next to him and gave him a soft hugh. "I´m so sorry, i didn´t mean it. You must hate me for this."

"You were just doing your job. You were under pressure. And i started the fight, anyway."

He smelled good, and he was warm. Secretly, you wanted to stay hugged to him.

"If our jobs can´t be diplomatic, maybe we can. So we can avoid more disasters."

"i think that is a great idea." As soon as he finishes telling you this, you fell a thick hand embracing your shoulder and pulling you closer. You didn´t move. Did he also like the hugh? "Is it okay?" He asked, looking at you. "Yes", you said.

"S-since we are not hating each other this night, may i say, you look cute in bathing clothes."

You blushed, looking down. "You are not bad, too" You feel his hand through your hair. You didn´t pushed it away, so he understood the sign: It was all okay from you. He grabbed your waist and pulled you to straddle his waist.

"One night, love?" He asked.

"One night." You responded.

He was layed on his back and you were on top of him. You leaned and gave him a soft peck in his lips. You pull away and look into his eyes, your hands cupped his cheeks.

He placed you on his lap, while sitting. Then, his mouth sharply attacked yours, tongue asking permission to explore your mouth. As you gave it, he lifted you and possitioned you on the bed, staying on top. He broke the kiss to take of your tank top (you weren´t with a bra, since you were going to sleep) and went to work on your breasts. He sucked one nipple while one of his hands were supporting him on the bed and the other were tracing your thigh.

"Please, pet, open your legs for me."

You opened, but not enough for his opinion.

He left your breasts and went down. He gently took of your short and penties. But then he brutally grabbed your knees saying: " I said, before, for you to open your legs". It burned were he was touching you. With your knees in his hands, he placed then on his shoulders and went down to your cunt. He passed a hand and licked it, looking at you. "Well done, y/n, already wet for me". He gave kisses at your inner thighs, trailing them to finally lick your folds. "Daddy´s girl, say a number until 20".

"four"

He quickly bit your clit, making you scream in pleasure and surprise. He inserted two fingers inside you, curling them at an affordable pace, while sucking your cunt like a hungry man. You put your hand on his head, signaling to go faster. He did as you plead, making you a moaning mess. You feel a heat grow in your stomach.

"Hen-ry, i think i´m gonna...". You cum before you could finish.

He places a soft kiss to your belly.

"Sit, my dove". You sit. He lays almost in the middle of the bed. "Now, sit on my face."

"Are you crazy? if i not kill you first, you´ll be injured!"

"Baby girl, have you never done that?"

"No."

"I am sure you will like it. And you would be in completely control."

He gave you his hand to gide you to kneel over his face. You now were hovering it. He grabbed your hips, pulling you down. You were scared and resisted to him. "I´m to heavy. I´m not skinny, you are going to suffocate, or i´ll even break your neck or your nose". He became impacient and pulled you down, even you trying to resist to him. As soon as you sit, you feel his wet tongue circling your hole. You let a moan out. He let go of your hips and you got out of his face. "See, nothing happened to me. You are not heavy. You are perfect. You are entirelly perfect. Now do as i told you." You slowly sit back at his face. He starts to eat you, putting his tongue inside you many times, his tongue dancing all over your vagina. He roughtly smack your ass and growl. He was making you feel every sensation you could before cumming again. As soon as he growled again, you came on his mouth, soaking his chin. You get out of him. He was going to lay you again but you stopped him. You guidded him to sit on the edge of the bed and take of his shorts; you kneel, taking his already hard cock in your hand, smoothing a little before putting in your mouth. As you did, he shivered to the attention being given to his erection. You hollowed your cheeks and started to take it as deep as you could. The tip hitted the back of your throat, making you gag, the vibrationg hitting his sensitive spot, making him moan roughtly. He takes your hair and starts to guide your pace. You noticed he was reaching his orgasm and started to give special treatment to the tip of his dick, however, he sarted to try to pull it of. "what are you doing?"

"I´m not gonna cum on your throat. Not today, pet."

He pushes you away and you lay on the bed. He places himself between your legs and insert two fingers inside you, straching you out for him. He leans and takes you to a kiss. Suddenly, you fee him entering you. You break the kiss and moans to loud, your nails scratchin his back. He starts thrusting. The sound was intoxicating. You buck your hips, meaning for him to go faster. His thrusts became hard, but not hard enough to leave bruises, since you´d have to wear a bikini tomorrow. His breath were unsteady and you were soaking. "Henry, it´s comming!". After a couple of seconds you cum all over him. "Do you want me to take it of? We forgot the condom."

"No need, tomorrow i´ll take a pill. Go ahead, daddy." As soon as you finished, he let out a shy moan and came. He quickly kissed you before getting out.

He laid beside you, without breath. You get up and straddle him.

"You know, secretly, i´ve always wanted to ride you". You say massagim his cheast. You possition him in your entrance and you sit on it. He sits and hugs you. Then, he grabs your waist and you place your hands on his shoulders. You starts to move your hips and he follows your pace. After some kisses your speed increased and you both cum. You stay on top of him for a while, hugging his huge torso. Suddenly, he slightly arched his back. He hoped you didn´t notice the stiffnes of his muscles, but you did. You imediately get out of him.

"is it your back?"

"it´s nothing."

"of course it is." You say upset.

"Darling, it was just a little stiffness, i´m getting old". He kisses your cheek. "Let´s go take a bath, we are both soaking wet". He lifts you on his arms bridal style and caries you.

After the bath, you were cuddling in bed.

"What time is it?" You asked.

"Three am."

"Hen, how did you know what i liked during sex?"

"Well, you have been always in a defensive mood, always trying to prove yourself, how you never need help. So i thought that it had a big chance of, actually, you just wanting someone soft and caring for you, leading and helping. Besides, you didn´t stop me, so i just kept going."

You blushed at his explanation. "Henry, why did you ask me to say a number, before?"

"Oh! I wanted to know how many times I'd make you cum."

You then realised." What if I had said twenty?"

"Well, then I guess we would be up until the sun rises".

You looked at him incredulous.

" You know, that face sitting thing, i think i should try it more times."

"My face is always available for you whenever you want, dove". He says with a smile.

You both stay in silence for some minutes, then you say: "You know, maybe, we could repeat the sex. We just let our work go, and we be ourselves for a while."

"I would very much appreciate that." You both fall asleep.

The next morning, it was your last day on the island, so Camilla decided to spent the day on the beach again.

"What is that between your legs?" Camilla asked.

You looked down to see light bruises at your inner thighs.

"i must have beaten somewhere."

"I imagine that Henry´s lap could be called somewhere." She says laughing.

"Hey! I could have sleept with anyone!"

"Sure, then Henry´s back scratches are from somewhere unknown as well". Camilla smirked.

"Oh, shut up". You both laughed.

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