#these are so fun i LOVE the thumbs hahaha

[himezoro]

your roman empire with the one piece men

that small gesture or word he said that entered your mind and never left.

starring : zoro, luffy and law !!

word count : 889

author's note : again, i'm so sorry for posting so rarely, working and planning a wedding has to be the most exhausting thing ever, i promise to go through all of your requests and to be more present, tysm for your support ♡౨ৎ⋆.˚ some of these scenarios have been inspired by moments i often think about in my life, can you guess which hahaha??

zoro was smitten with you, and longed taking a step forward in your camaraderie, and everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. so when nami told him he was on errand duty with you and only you today, the swordsman knew it was his shot to get closer to you.

gosh, you were gorgeous walking around the alleys with the wind blowing your hair and diffusing your hypnotizing scent. and there he was, walking by your side like a guard dog with his hands the pockets of his jacket, listening to your enchanting voice.

the errands were nearly coming to an end, and zoro did not dare to "make a move", which he knew he would regret. the alleys got more crowded and he was afraid to lose you, especially since his orientation is not the best, though his senses would always bring him back to you. he knew that.

as zoro listened to you and internally debated on whether he should say something about his feelings or not, his body acted on his own, finally closing the distance.

as he gently grabbed your left hand with his right one, intertwined his fingers with yours, before putting both of his hand and yours in his right pocket, acting like it was the most natural gesture on earth.

and the butterflies in your stomach never died since.

luffy has always brought joy to your life and fed your desire for adventures and fun. he lit stars to your world and invited you to let go of pressure and have fun, not minding about third parties' opinions. a lot of people would question your couple association because of luffy's exuberance, but all them be damned. the future king of the pirates brought you back to life and no one could make you happier.

a sudden rain came down pouring on the grand line and the wind blew hard. the entire crew started running around to put back inside the furnitures that were left outside. the rain was so much that it started freezing and you started to run to your quarters. yet, as you were about to finally reach your door, a pair of elastic arms grabbed you and brought you back outside under the pouring rain, their owner sporting a huge, bright grin on his face.

"luffy!!! what the hell are you doing? it's raining and we'll catch a cold!!"

"chichichi, i wanted to dance with you, (y/n)!" he beamed, his eyes adoringly pleading yours to allow his antics as he started twirling you around under the pouring rain.

between laughters only him could exulate, you tried to bring him back to his senses.

"but luffy, honey, we can't dance under the rain! it's cold and there's no music playing!"

luffy did not mind your ramblings as he kept on twirling you around, his hand standing on your the small of your back the whole time, his thumb occasionnaly drawing circles. with a determined gaze and his signature smile on his face, he pressed his forehead on yours, the rain drops falling from his nose to your lips from the closeness.

"together, there's nothing that we can't do (y/n). after all, i'm the future king of the pirates!!"

his laughter hugged the atmosphere and made your heart race even more.

your relationship with law was a secret on the submarine, and it was hard for you to hide your adoration for your boyfriend. after all, what wasn't there to love? law was smart, composed, mature and commited. yet, sometimes, it felt so easy for him to "ignore" your status in front of the crew or anyone for that matter, which tended to hurt your heart. did law appreciate you the way you did? was it unrequited?

little did you know, law had a hard time not paying as much attention as he would when with the others. because he had a lot of work, even when the others were not around, it did not mean the two of you could see each other. therefore, the soft gestures he wished to cover you with were quite lacking. and of course, he was the one to have asked to keep the relationship a secret, and because of his prideful persona, he would not admit it was not a good idea.

you and bepo were getting ready to work around the submarines for your chores of the day. you were busy going around the submarine with your chores tool and bepo, and failed to notice your shoe laces came undone.

and of course, this would not go unnoticed by law. the captain could not stop himself from going to you with a frown, which surprised (and scared) both of you and bepo.

is there anything you did wrong? why was he looking so pissed off?

"idiot. you could trip and injure yourself." your boyfriend sternly spoke, kneeling to the floor to tie your shoe-lace, leaving bepo dumbfounded and yourself out of breath, with a racing heartbeat.

"you know i don't want you to get hurt." he said getting up, his hot breath tickling your cheek in the process, his warm hand resting on yours, silently promising to show his adoration for you like you deserve.

and you swore you could still feel the warmth of his hand from that day again.

[alrightyxaphroditee]

nsfw alphabet for jacaerys velaryon

word count: 2.02k words pairing: jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader warning(s): explicit sexual content, minors dni author's note: just a quick self-indulgent set of headcanons to warm up my writing muscles! I haven't written in 3 years so I figured this was the perfect way to get back into it. hope you all enjoy ₊˚��♡

nsfw content beneath the cut!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jace is not one to shy away from aftercare. He loves the feeling of vulnerability as he lays with you in the afterglow, his arms encircled around your body tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Sometimes he’s very chatty, other times he allows his actions to do the speaking for him. Gentle caresses of your skin, chaste kisses pressed to your cheeks and forehead, soft squeezes of the supple flesh of your thighs - his worship of your body extends beyond the act of sex. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hair is both his favorite and least favorite part of him. On the one hand, it’s a stark reminder of the reality of his parentage, something that haunts him day in and day out. And yet the feeling of you tugging on his hair as he slowly slides in and out of you nearly sends him to heaven prematurely. He takes pride in the way that he looks, and always makes sure that his hair looks perfect.

His favorite part of you is your lips. He adores the way that you bite your lip when you’re deep in thought, often imagining that it was him biting it instead. He loves to run his thumb along your bottom lip as you’re on your knees preparing to take him into your mouth. He shivers at the feeling of your lips trailing down his neck as you ride him, the action magnifying all pleasurable sensations by tenfold.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jace will always take the opportunity to finish inside of you. Even if you are not actively trying for a pregnancy, he sometimes cannot bring himself to pull out first. If you specifically tell him not to come inside of you, he’ll likely spill on your belly or your thighs. He would never do anything that you were uncomfortable with.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Bonus points if you have silver hair and/or are a Targaryen Hahaha what (credits to my bestie bc I actually couldn’t come up with this on my own, thanks @tasha-writes)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Jace is a virgin the first time you lay together, but that does not mean he has no tricks up his sleeves. He is familiar with female anatomy to an extent, and knows the basics of how to please you. Although clumsy at first, he is an attentive lover, and quickly picks up on what makes you shiver, what makes you clench your thighs, and what makes you gasp in pleasure. He prefers to focus on giving you your pleasure, and takes pride in bringing you to your peak over and over again - that blissed out look on your face brings him to his knees every time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Jace favors any position that allows him to kiss you with no problem and that gives him an unobscured view of your face. A few favorites are the mating press, lotus, cowgirl, and missionary.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To him, sex is an act of love, so he does not mind laughing during the act. After all, what is the point if you cannot have fun with it?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Jace has exceptional hygiene, although he doesn’t put a lot of thought into grooming down there. Occasionally he will do a quick trim, but otherwise he leaves it all natural. His hair is dark and curly, just like the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This man is incredibly romantic, every time you have sex it’s a tender and intense experience. He is huge on making eye contact with you, savoring the expressions you make as he drives in and out of you, reaching the deepest parts of your body. When he’s close, he almost always presses his forehead pressed against yours, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. When he comes, he presses his face into your neck, compliments and declarations of love rolling off his tongue over and over again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only once before he married you, and he felt immensely guilty afterwards, as though he had dishonored you. Only when you are unavailable to him after marriage. When he leaves you behind for a political meeting, or when you are away visiting family without him, he will indulge himself. It is never satisfactory, as he has grown accustomed to the warmth of your body, leaving him to miss you even more.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jace is pretty vanilla as a whole, however, he does have a few mild kinks that he enjoys exploring with you. He has a pretty strong praise kink - if you compliment him during sex (or at all really), an involuntary whimper will likely fall from his lips and his hips will stutter. He’ll have to fight the urge not to finish right then.

His praise kink goes both ways, though. He’s very chatty during sex and 99.9% of the words coming out of his mouth are compliments directed towards you.

Additionally, he enjoys being edged on occasion, especially if you’re on top of him taking your own pleasure. 

The idea of you carrying his heir fills him with pride, and a fiery heat unlike anything he has ever felt before. There is a reason he loves to spill himself inside of you, beyond simple pleasure. Jace is a family man through and through, so the idea of making you round with his child definitely spurs him on.

Also, hair pulling. This one is pretty self explanatory. Have you seen this man’s hair?

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Preferably in private, he’s not shy about the way that he feels about you, and sometimes the thought of someone overhearing gives him a spike of adrenaline, but overall Jace is opposed to anyone potentially being able to walk in on you. Because of that, he sticks to pretty mundane locations - your bedchambers, his bedchambers, the bathing chambers, and when he’s feeling particularly adventurous (typically after a couple goblets of wine) once or twice in the dragonpit.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It really does not take much to get Jace going - a caress of his cheek, you playing with his hair, a soft smile at him from across the room…any attention that he gets from you has the potential to rile him up.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Jace would not be willing to share, and would probably feel a bit hurt if you were to ask for a threeesome. He already feels as though he is not good enough (for you, for his mother, for the realm, the list goes on…), so this would be an especially cruel stab through the heart. 

Jace likes for sex to be a way for him to worship you, so anything that could potentially harm you is completely out of the question. This includes choking, slapping, biting, and anything else that could be considered rough. In the same vein, he would be entirely unwilling to participate in degradation towards you of any kind. After all of the whispers that he has endured throughout his life, he would hardly want to bestow the same upon you, regardless of the intentions behind the jabs. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jace definitely prefers giving, enjoys receiving sometimes but prefers not to finish that way. He’s awkward and clumsy at first, but as I mentioned above, he’s very quick to learn what you like. He particularly enjoys pressing his tongue all the way inside of you and using his thumb to rub gentle circles on your clit, reveling in the reactions he pulls from you. 

He loves the feeling of your juices all over his lips and chin, but loves the taste of you even more. Jace is prone to making lewd comments about your taste, completely shameless and drunk on the high of giving you pleasure. 

He would be content with you being his last meal.

He enjoys receiving as well, but never asks for it outright. He prefers getting his pleasure from other acts, so he would honestly be content without it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jace tends to be more slow and sensual - he loves to take his time with you. He’s very romantic, and knows how to hit each and every angle that has you squirming and sighing in pleasure. If he’s feeling particularly in the mood, he’ll sometimes fuck you with slow, hard strokes, or fast, shallow strokes. He refuses to be rough with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If the two of you have a quickie, there's never any penetration involved. He’ll push you against the wall of your chambers before a council meeting and lap at your core until you’re begging him to stop, but that’s as far as he’s willing to go when it comes to quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jace isn’t much of a risk taker when it comes to sex. He’s willing to experiment from time to time if you suggest it, but he is very, very rarely the one to suggest it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last a good bit. On average he’ll push for two rounds - one round where he spends the majority pleasuring you in a way that does not include penetration (aka eating you out), then fucks you and finds his release a bit…too early. The second time he fucks you for a good while and pulls another orgasm from you both. Unless one of you is too tired to follow through, this is typically the route he will take.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

If it was up to Jace, there wouldn’t be the use of any toys. If he did use them, it would not be his idea, but he would use it for you. He wouldn’t be comfortable with the use of toys on himself, though, so the only toys you two would ever use would be for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jace is definitely not one to tease by nature. He loves to bring you to your release, and wastes no time in doing so. But, if you’re into teasing, he’ll try it out (and might even like it) for you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Definitely vocal. Lots of soft groans, definitely moans if/when you give him head, whimpers if you run your tongue up the side of his neck. Overall, he’s very reactive to your touch both physically and audibly.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He bites his lip and screws his eyes shut when he’s concentrating really hard on not finishing too early.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7in/17.78cm , curved upward, thick. I don’t know, I feel like it’s pretty and he knows it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jace has a very healthy sex drive for someone his age. He isn’t insufferable about it, though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tends to fall asleep thirty minutes to an hour afterwards. He will not sleep until he feels that he has shown you the proper amount of attention and affection. Sometimes he’ll suggest taking a bath together before heading off to bed. He’ll take any excuse to take care of you ◡̈

author's note: thank u for reading! I hope I did him justice, this is my first time writing for him :,)

my requests are OPEN! ◡̈ dividers by cafekitsune

[spidybaby]

Canceled Flight

Summary: Pedri and you never expected that a canceled flight was going to make you label your relationship.

Warnings: cursing.

"Mamá, leave the refrigerator alone." Pedri laughs, watching his mom go through the things inside. "You are going to be late."

"I'm just making sure you have everything, I don't want you not eating because you don't have food."

He rolls his eyes. "I can cook an egg."

"But you don't do it, son." His father says, walking with his luggage in hand.

"Guys, let's go." Fer shouts. "The Uber is outside, let's go."

Pedri helps his parents with their luggage, Fer was placing his next to him. "Hey, text me when you're back home." He whispers.

"Will do," he smiles. "Have fun at home, say hi to grandma for me." He hugs his brother

Fee smiles, hugging him and joining his parents inside the car. "Bye!" Pedri shakes his hand in the air.

He walks back home, grabbing his phone and texting you that he will be ready in a few minutes.

He runs upstairs to get his sneakers. You suggested taking a walk around the gated community, just to talk.

He likes the idea, mostly because he will spend time with you. The other good thing is that nobody will bother the two of you while doing that.

He grabbed his keys, walked to the end of the street, and knocked on your door. The best part about you is that you live so close to him.

You two met up one day when you were running. He was late for a meeting, weird thing about him, when he exit his house he didn't even payed attention or looked at both sides.

He knocked you over, helping you to get up. He apologized with barely a few words, eyes roaming between you and his car.

You laughed at how worried yet how in a hurry he was. Reassuring him that you were fine and that he could leave.

You then found him again when he was entering his home. He left his car on the driveway.

"Not in a hurry this time?" You asked, smiling at him.

"Hola!" He smiled. "I'm still feel bad." He says.

"Don't. It was a mistake." You chuckle. "I like your car." You say, trying to make conversation.

"If you know how to drive, I can borrow it anytime." He smiles. "That way, I can make it up for throwing you in the ground."

"I'm Y/n." You extended your hand.

"I'm Pedri." He shakes your hand.

That small talk got you two exchanging numbers. You went on a few dates, nothing crazy.

He wanted to keep you on the low before even formalizing anything between you two. That way, if anybody took a photo he wouldn't mind

He likes you very much. He even told Fer about you, telling him that he never felt that way about aby other girl.

"Oh hi!" You say, hugging him and kissing his cheek. "Ready for a walk?"

He humms yes, kissing your cheek a few times. You laugh at the feeling of his beard. Arms tightening the hug.

"Let's go!" He says, separating from the hug and taking your hand.

You two walk for a little in silence, hand in hand as you enjoy each others company. You love how his thumb is caressing your hand.

"My dad wants to get a dog." You say.

"Really?" He smiles. "Get a labrador. That way, we can match dogs."

"I'll suggest it." You laugh, hugging his arm, planting a kiss on the side of his head. "I'm going with my sibling to the game this weekend." You tell him.

"Really?" He says, excited about the idea of you there. "Did you buy the tickets?"

"Not yet, my dad is the one that's going to get t-"

"I'll get them for you." He smiles. "Vip, section too." He jokes with you, raising his eyebrows. "And I can maybe lean you a jersey."

"Oh, yes!" You say excited. "I want the 19, please."

His smile drops. "Hahaha." He fakes laughing. "I think you would appreciate the 8 more."

"Nah, I'll stick with the 19." You smile. You get to a small kids' playground. "Let's sit on the swings." You pull him.

You make him sit on the swing, pushing him to move him. The way he's laughing is so cute to you.

"Time out, come here." He says, smiling like crazy.

You move to sit next to him, but he's quicker and pulls you over his lap, sitting you there. With one hand, he's grabbing your waist, and the other is grabbing the chain of the swing.

You two laugh as he swings you carefully. "We are going to fall, Pedri." You say.

"Fine," he says, stopping. "I was thinking that maybe we can eat something while watching a movie." He says, kissing your shoulder.

"I love that idea." You smile at him. Hand caressing his arm that's around your waist. "Let's go."

You stand up, helping him do the same. You two walk back to his place. This time, you make more conversation.

"What are you craving?" You ask him.

"What are you craving?" He repeats the question.

"Well, considering I can eat whatever I want when I want to." You laugh. "I'll let you pick."

"Maybe pizza." He smiles.

You feel how the small water drops start falling onto you and him.

"Oh shit." You say, grabbing his hand and running a little.

The small drops quickly became a very strong rain. Wetting you and him.

"Why did we even walk that far?" He laughs. You stopped, pulling him. "What?"

"We are already wet." You pull him into your arms, kissing him. "Might as well do that." You say as you separate.

He kisses you again, hugging your waist. "Let's go, I don't want you to get sick."

You get to his place. He asked you to wait while he brings a towel and a bin for the wet clothes. You do as you are told, taking your shoes and socks off.

"I have this bathrobe. It's a little bigger, but you can cover with it. I'll start the dryer." He says.

"Help me with it." You ask, making him nod.

He passes the robe around your shoulder, grabbing it to make sure it doesn't fall. You take off your top, eyes glued to his.

You can't help the feeling on your stomach, not even when you take off your bra his eyes moved away from yours.

"Thank you." You say, tightening the belt of the robe. "My leggings are kind of water resistant, so they will get dried faster, no dried needed." You smile at him.

"I'll make sure to hang it for you." He smiles. "I'll grab you a t-shirt, so you can be comfortable. Why don't you sit, I'll be back."

You nod, walking inside his house. Taking a seat at his couch. You notice the framed pictures of him and his family.

"Do you like pasta?" He asks, walking inside with a short and a towel around his shoulders. His bare chest makes you feel some type of way. "Here's that shirt, I think it will cover you so you don't feel hot with the robe."

"Thank you." You smile. "Need some help with dinner?"

"Well, hope you don't mind eating reheated pasta, my brother made it for me a few hours ago."

"I can make us some garlic breads if you like that." You say.

"Joer', that sounds amazing."

"Just need some garlic, butter, a pan, and the bread." You smile at him. "I can add cheese if you want to."

He nods happy, handing you all the stuff you need to cook. He does his part, and you do yours.

You open the robe a little, the making of the foor was making you feel hot. "Want some lemonade?" He asks, kissing your shoulder while he looks at you placing the bread on a plate.

You nod, thanking him. You help him serve the pasta while he fixes the table. You love how he's so affectioned and so clingy.

You two eat and talk about the next match. You asked him to spoiler you either any strategy that they planned.

He loves talking with you, it was so easy and so simple. Yet it feels like he knows you all his life. He wanted to move forward with you. Not doubt.

"Let me help you with the dishes." You grab both yours and his plate. Bringing them to the kitchen to wash them.

"Let's place them on the dishwasher, it's easier." He grabs your waist, making you turn. "Let me do it." He smiles.

You nod, hands locking on his neck. You kiss him, loving the way his lips feel on yours. He grabs your waist, lifting you and placing you on top of the counter.

You watch as he does the work. You love how he looks at you while doing it. "Done."

You open your arms to him. He loves how you embrace him. "La verdad si quiero esa camiseta con el 8." (Honestly, I do want that jersey with the 8 on it) you smile, kissing him.

He deepens the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist. You move your hand to his hair, pulling it a little bit.

He can't help the small whine that he let out. Making you smirk into the kiss. "Want some ice cream?" He asks, separating to take air.

You blush a little. "Yes, I would love that." You whisper.

He pecks you again, smiling at you. He walks over to his fridge, taking the pot of ice cream and grabbing a spoon.

He sets between your legs. "Open your mouth."

Your stomach turns because of the tone he's using. You do as you are told, letting him spoon feed you.

"It's so good." You smile.

You take the pot and spoon from his hands, feeding him with the ice cream. "It really is good." He smiles.

You left the container next to you. Grabbing his cheeks, you go back to kiss him. You love that he tastes like an ice cream.

You are so into the kiss that you don't hear how the door opens and closes. You are too focused on the way pedri is humming against your lips.

You hear someone clearing their throat. Pedri separates from you, turning to see his brother standing there with a luggage. (🧍🏻)

"Mierda." He mumble.

You feel the embarrassment of your life. You close the rope and jump off the counter. Fer is looking at you two. Speechless.

"Fer, can you get me some water?" Pedri's father asks. You just got more red. "Hi!" He says, smiling.

You smile a little, feeling shy. Waving with your hand, not trusting your voice.

Pedri clears his throat. "You guys are back." He nervously laughs, he scratches hmthe back of his neck. "This is Y/n." He smiles at you, tying to not make the situation more awkward.

"Hello, Miss Y/n." His dad smiles. "I'm Fernando." He smiles, walking over to you and extending his hand.

You took his hand, shaking it lightly. "Nice to meet you, sir." You whisper.

"And this is my brother." Pedri says.

Fer just nods, trying not to laugh at the situation. "Hi." He smiles.

You whisper a hi back at him. You want to die, you never expected to meet his family like that. Not while you're only wearing Pedri's t-shirt, your panties and a oversized robe.

"Fer, why don't you reheat the pasta." You hear a woman voice. "Also, where's Pedri? He left the dryer on."

You want to jump out of the window, not only were you half naked in front of his father and brother, but you also ate the pasta his mother asked his brother to reheat.

You look at the dishwasher, knowing the empty pasta bowl was there. Pedri noticed how uncomfortable you look.

His mother stops on her tracks, noticing a new face. She just smiles, not thinking anything bad. "Hola."

You smile back, and you can feel your red face. You wave at her.

"The dryer was on because we were out, and the rain started, so we got all wet." He ober explains. "This is Y/n." He smiles, pointing at you. "And there's no more pasta." He whispers.

"And there's no more ice cream, I see." Rosy jokes, noticing the container on the counter. "It's okay, we can eat other thing."

You turn to the melted container of ice cream. You then look at Pedri, he feels weird.

"I'll go to my room. Help me with the luggage, dad?" Fer says, making his father nod.

His father and him walk upstairs with the three suitcases. Rosy stakes a seat at the wooden stool.

"Our flight was canceled due to the rain, but look, no more rain now." She says, mad about the situation. "Anyways. Y/n, is it my mind or I have seen you around?" Rosy asks.

"I live at the end of the block." You smile at her. "I've seen you a few times." You say, remembering that you said your greeting to her on the street as you walked back home.

"Right, I remember your face. You run."

"Yes, I do." You nod, smiling but still feeling awkward. "I'm sorry about the pasta." You apologized.

"It's okay, was it good?"

"Very, I'm also sorry about the ice cream." You say.

She nods, not caring but enjoying the way pedri, and you look so uncomfortable.

"Are you Pedri's friend?"

You think on what to say for a few seconds, you were more than just his friend but nothing that you and him ever talked about.

"She's-" Pedri starts. Clearing his throat. "She's my girlfriend." He says, passing his arm around your waist. "She's actually coming to the game this weekend."

You blush at his comment, you really like him, and you love the idea of him being yours. You place your hand on his.

"I'm sorry we met this way." You say to her.

"Don't worry," she chuckles. "I hope next time it's better. Now, if you excuse me. I'll be in my room."

You both say your goodbyes to her. You wait till she's gone. Laughing at how awkward the whole thing was.

"I think our clothes are dry." He says, grabbing your hand and walking with you to the laundry room. "I'm sorry about that shit show." He says, head resting on your shoulder.

"I want to die, honestly." You laugh again.

"Can we do it together?" He asks, making you nod. "I'll let you change, I'll be outside."

You wait till he's out of the room, taking a big breath. You feel like if you are in fever dream.

You grab your clothes from the dryer, dress yourself, and try to fix your hair on the reflection of the machine.

You open the door, finding him on his phone. "All done." You smile at him. "I think my shoes are still wet, but that's something I can fix at home."

"Let me walk you." He opens the door for you.

The walk home was slow and silent. You don't know what to say and he's afraid he might say the wrong thing.

"We're here." He says.

You grab the small key you left on the pouch of your leggings. You open the door, thanking him for walking your home.

You wave goodbye at him, closing the door. You stayed there for a few seconds. Trying to process everything.

You hear three knocks on the door. Opening it, you find Pedri. "Hi." You whisper, smiling.

"I forgot something." He says, breathless.

You open the door, confused about what he might have forgotten. "What did you forget?"

"This."

He grabs your hips, pulling you over to him. His lips clash over yours. You place your hands on his cheeks, bringing him closer.

When the air feels necessary, you two pull away. Waiting only a few seconds before going back to the kiss.

"Let's repeat this date tomorrow." He says, smiling at you.

You bit your lip, pecking him. "Deal, you have to make something up to me." He frowns, not understanding what you are saying. "You never asked me if I wanted to be your girlfriend."

He then smiles, understanding everything. "I'll make sure to make it up. Don't want you to say no." He says, hands on your cheeks. His thumbs caressing your face.

"I won't, just ask me this time." You laugh.

You kiss again. You love the feeling.

"Go home, González." You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him jokingly. "It's late, and you need to rest for tomorrow's training."

"Will do, boss." He laughs. "I have to train extra hard, don't want my girlfriend to feel embarrassed of my game."

"She won't." You say, caressing his cheek. "Text me when you are home?"

"Will do, preciosa." He smiles, quickly getting closer and pecking you one last time. "Now I can leave in peace." He laughs, making you laugh with him.

[l0velylecter]

hiii just came across your site and your hcs of the cod men are so fucking amazing!!! i was wondering if you could do a part 2 of the size difference imagine w/ the other cod men characters? but only if you're not busy!! thnxx

— the men of cod : mw ii with a tiny s/o [vol.ii ] characters : captain john price, phillip graves, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, rodolfo parra fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii tags : gn!reader, headcanons additional warnings : size kink, manhandling, explicit descriptions of sex ( not me writing this on christmas eve LOL it feels illegal )  rating : e for explicit, nsfw!

01| His breath ghosted against your nape, the invisible hair standing up, begging to be pet. Price's chuckle reverberated down your spine, pricking the skin with goosebumps as his beard scratched the surface. With his size, he could easily have you bent over his knee, four fingers sinking into your body to spread you wide. He never gets tired of seeing you like this, disheveled and writhing just from his hands, struggling to adjust to the size. And when you'd try to grind yourself down the hilt, he'll firmly still your hips ( even if his own self-control is on the brink of collapsing.) — Patience, love. I need to be thorough with you.

02| As much as you enjoy standing up to Graves, sometimes, there's something in submitting yourself to him that feels downright euphoric. And Graves is more than happy to manhandle and fuck you into a mating pres. With your size, he's obsessed with how easy it was to get you into this position: ankles on either side of his shoulders as he drives his cock into your quivering hole. Your body was coiled tight, the pleasure so intense it was painful, tears pricking your eyes and running down your neck, which only turned him on even more. His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body, and hands gripping your shoulders. And when he comes, hot spurts of cum spilling, dripping down your stomach, he kissed your leg. Teeth latching on to skin as he groans desperately — Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby you're so tight, so good, so wet for me. Do you like that baby? I know you do. I know you can take it. You're a good girl. 03| The heat was blooming against your abdomen, seizing your body into a spasm as Gaz pushed your legs apart to push himself deeper — hands, firm and steady against your hips to maneuver you however he wanted. He had you against the couch, the wall, the kitchen counter, and now atop the bed. And you enjoy being overpowered and pinned against any surface for him to take, to please. Even after preparing you, he still needed to be careful, arms on either side of your face to not crush you. You shuddered, feeling your stomach bulge, his cock pulsing inside. He pats your thighs in encouragement, thumb stroking you down your high as you come undone — That's it, babe. I got you. I got you. 04| You never expected this from your sweet Rodolfo. And how can you deny him when he had asked you so kindly? Even on his knees, with you sitting across him, he still reached your eye level, your hand absentmindedly smoothing down his arms to feel the muscle. He was so careful with you that you sometimes forgot how big he was. As you tried to sink onto his cock, his hands eased you down the hilt, head lightly hitting the headboard when you started rocking back and forth: fingers digging into his broad shoulders. Even when he was setting the pace, handling you like a doll, a toy, he was still gentle, only roughly pulling you down to push you to finish — Gracias, mi corazón. Thank you.

a/n : anon thank you so much for requesting ( and your sweet compliment ) ! i had so much fun writing this hahaha it’s been a while since i wrote something so steamy 🙈 i hope this lives up to your expectations + happy holidays <3

imagine the men of cod : mw ii & size difference [ vol i ]

[indecenthoney]

Take a Joke

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

You can find my other stories here!

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

“And for the 5th time… I have things to do… The outside seems nice and all… but I just need to get these things done… The deadline is coming up and if I don’t finish… They’ll be on my ass for not finishing my part…”

“But you promised…”

“I know… I know… But I won’t be able to enjoy myself… If I’m stressing out this much… Listen… You can hang out all you want in my house… but I’ll be by my desk doing my work… Alright? And when I’m done we can do something together… Okay?”

“Fine… God you’re such a workaholic… Hehehe… You know… if you’re so stressed out… I could always… give you some head… You know? Release some tension… Just pop it into my mouth a little and you’ll be melting… Please daddy please~” 

“I- Y-you… Shut the fuck up… I don’t need head… What I need is to get this done…”

“Mm… You sure? Kinda stuttered there for a bit… You don’t wanna slap it on my tongue? Not even a little?”

“Again… Shut up… Go make yourself comfy and wait for me…”

“Fineeeee… You’re no fun!”

With every brooding individual, there stands a person who exudes sunlight and happiness. After all, opposites attract do they not? Well, my friend is a bit more open when it comes to physical contact. Or flirting for that matter. Not that they mean any of it. We’re just two friends that happen to hang out a lot. And with that comfortability, they simply love getting a rise out of me. You have to understand. It just kind of throws you off when you’re constantly asked to cum in their mouth. Like the image wouldn’t plague your mind. And now I’m just sitting here at my desk thinking about how badly I want to feel their lips around my cock. The unruly pressure in my pants obstructing my thoughts. Can you see what I’m going through? I couldn’t help but watch them from the corner of my eye. Laid flat on the bed, messing around with their phone. Her skirt slowly riding up her pretty legs-

“You knowwwww… You’ve been sitting there for a while, bud… Hahah… We’re never going to hang out if you keep staring at me like that… You sure you don’t wanna fuck me and get it over with? C’mon, just the tip? Pretty please? Push the panties to the side and rail me into the mattress… Hahahaaha… The look on your face… You wanna fuck me so bad… It makes you look stupid…” 

This little cock tease has been going at it since forever.  I am the sole victim of her little jokes. I know we’re friends and she’s comfortable with me. But I’m just a man. I can only take so many “invites” until I do something about it. It’s a joke. I know it’s a joke. But I think it’s about time I gave her a taste of her own medicine. You know? Scare her a little. What if the poor thing ran into someone who wasn’t so reserved? 

“Yeah? And? You keep offering… Honestly… I’m starting to think you actually want me to touch you… It’s pretty pathetic… If you wanted me so badly… You coulda been honest…” 

“W-what? No-... I-... U-uhm… I was just… Hahaha… Uhhh… Y-you’re really close… Could you- H-hey… Y-your hands are cold… What’re you… F-fuck… N-not my… Mmmph…” 

Taking my place up beside her, I pulled her over my lap raising her ass into the air. My hands gently caressing the fine shape of it all. Her legs kicking and flailing in protest. In response, my thumb pressing down deep into her causing her to wince at the pain. Physically teaching her that any sort of rebellion would be met with consequence. Soon settling down, allowing me to do whatever I please.

“O-ow… That hurts…”

“Then stop moving around so much… Why are you so surprised? You were talking a lot of shit earlier… Don’t tell me you're backing out now? What? All bark? No bite? I was getting really sick of your little jokes… Now look at you… Hahahha”

“S-stop… I-it’s not funny… Get your hand out of my… Aaa- I-I’m serious… You can’t rub me t-there… Fu- Mmph…”

“I can’t? Hahaha… What’re you talking about? Yes, I can… Watch me… Fuck… God you’re wet… For what? Damnnnnn… Someone needed this…  If you were just honest… I would’ve helped you out, you know? What’s wrong? Don’t you wanna feel good? Wasn’t this your plan? To get me all riled up… I think it’d be rude to stop when you’re enjoying it this much… C’mon…  Just the tip… Lemme slide my fingers in… Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

Holding her ass down, I firmly pressed my thumb along her leaky slit, tracing downward onto her. Jolts of pleasure surface as her back arches against my fingers. Subtle moans aim to resound, yet her face burrowed deep into my pillow. I watch as she bites down, preventing any more from escaping. A futile attempt as the tension in her jaw is reduced to a gaping, slobbering mess. The pillow now soaked in her saliva. With her panties pushed to the side, my fingers tease the opening causing her to drip even further. Leading me to believe that she needed more than just a slight rubbing. Slowly, I slithered my way into her. Wriggling about in the tight heat. The constant throb of her cunt, pulsing, as she wrapped around my finger. As if the embarrassment wasn’t enough, her juices gradually coated my hand and down my arm. The sweet, sweet sight of weakness. Turning the tables on her little game. I wanted to see more. I wanted to bully her. More. Pulling back from the slick wetness of her pussy. I navigated myself around more uncharted waters. Gently I ran my hand around the opening of her ass. Inching myself into her-

“I said stop it! I hate you!”

“O-ow… Fuck… Dude? H-hey… Wait… I- I’m sorry… I was just… playing around… I thought I was playing around… Shit…”

After my sudden gesture, she slapped me across the face, quickly storming out of the room. Her face flushed with anger as if shades of red were splattered across a canvas. I was surprised to see this side of her. The jovial little entity now seething with rage. A joke that went too far. And chasing her down would only aggravate the situation. I thought that leaving her be for a few hours would be the best choice, so that I may get on with my work. However, working at my desk wasn’t all that productive as she lingered in my mind. Just as I mentioned before, there was no point in enjoying myself if I was so stressed. Yet, the opposite could also be said. I couldn’t quite get anything done knowing my friend wasn’t feeling her best. I felt horrible. So I rung her up, but that proved to be no help seeing as she left her phone on my bed. With no way of contacting her, I rushed out attempting to catch up. Before even reaching the steps, I heard a faint voice echoing from one of the spare rooms. Peeking into it, I found her quietly pleasuring herself. The frustration in her voice as she rubbed. Eager fingers that tried so desperately to alleviate the ache between her legs. I was to blame for the erratic motion of circles to the sensually slow piercing of parting flesh. There she sat flooding, barely keeping herself together. A slave to her own desire. Entranced by her fervor, I made the greedy mistake of getting a better look. Nudging the door in the process. The silence of the situation made it as if the door was screeching open like a banshee. There I stood awkwardly. 

“H-huh? What the fuck! Dude! Were you watching this entire time?!? Y-you’re sick!”

“N-no… Okay… Maybe… a little bit… But before you go off… I was just worried… How was I supposed to know where you ran off to? You left your phone on the bed so I kinda rushed out to find you… And is it really my fault you left the door open while doing this? I mean… how else was I supposed to get your attention? Knock?” 

“Yes!”

“Oh… My bad… Hahaha… Either way, it woulda been awkward… But now that I have your attention! I just… I’m… sorry… I-I guess I took the joke too far and… did something I shouldn’t have…”

“You guess? Well then… I guess… you just have a bad taste in jokes…” 

“Huh?!? Excuse me? Listen here brat! You’re no better! Says the person that CONSTANTLY throws themselves at me… You say I have a bad taste in jokes… But do you even hear yourself sometimes? I was joking earlier about you wanting something like this to happen… But you need this, don’t you? That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you're touching yourself in this quiet little room… Waiting to get caught…”

“No-”

“Oh? You know what… lift your skirt… You didn’t get to finish, right? What kind of host would I be if I left you here hopelessly fucking yourself?”

“W-wuh? I-I… I don’t wanna…”

“Lift… your… skirt… And I’m not going to say this again… You can either listen to me… or you can sit there and take it… Even if you beg and cry and cum your brains out… I simply will not… fucking… care… Now spread them…” 

A hint of hesitance, yet fear taking over. Curiosity pushing the boundaries, but pleasure numbing the senses. The idle gaze that longed for release, anticipated a brief moment, only to feel eternity. The look on her face gave it all away. She sat there waiting and waiting. Her patience wearing thin to the point her hips buck against my fingertips. In my sadistic nature, I retreat elongating this personal hell. Our faces now close in proximity, witnessing every whimper and whine that pleads for my touch. Tugging at my shirt, urging me not to wait a second longer. The greedy little brat that believes she deserves such solace. However, who am I to deprive her of such desire? Humbling hands that ran quick from tip to knuckle. Leaving but pools of proof. 

“You poor thing… Hahaha… And here you said you didn’t need this…”

“Mmmph- Y-you didn’t g-give me much of a ch-choice…”

“Right right… But does that really explain how much you’re leaking right now? Gripping at my shirt for dear life… Hahaha… How cute…”

“F-fuck you…”

“Ahahahahah… Wow… You know… you should reallyyyyy watch your fucking mouth… Especially when someone’s knuckle deep inside you… They might get angry, you know?” 

“Mmpph… S-stop… I-it hurts… F-fuck… Please please please… I-I’m s-sorry… I’m s-sorry… You’re being t-too rough… I’m going to c-cum… if you keep… Aaa-... d-doing that…” 

“Oh hun… I think you got me confused with someone that actually gives a fuck…”

“I h-hate y-you… Aaa-”

“Woah there… Let’s not say anything we don’t mean… You LOVE me! You wouldn’t be looking at me like that if you hated me so much… You wanna be mad but your eyes keep rolling back… Hahahah… Subby puppy… Hm… I’m sensing a lotta tension… Oh! I know what’ll make you feel better! Why don’t you tell me one of your little jokes? C’mon… Aren’t you going to ask me to stick it in? Hm? Put a baby in you or something? No? Hahahha… Jeez… Put up a fight, bestie… A couple of fingers in and suddenly your attitude’s gone… No wonder why you’re so quiet…”

“C-cumm-ing… Mmphh…”

“Awww…. Already? Couple minutes in… That’s kinda embarrassing… Poor baby… Yeah? Yeah? Is someone gonna cum? Mmmm… That’s it, sweetie… There’s no need to be shy… Buck those pretty little hips all you want… Just fucking cum already… Let go… Cum for bestie… Hahaha… Ohhh fuckkkk… Goood girl…”

“Aaa- F-fuck fuck fuck…”

“Shit… Hahahah.. I didn’t take you for a squirter… Well, aren’t you full of surprises… I guess you could say we didn’t see that “cumming”... Hahahah… Get it? Ugh… You’re no fun… Hey hey… Don’t go limp on me now… I’m not done with you… ”

“Mmmm… N-no more… P-please… I-I c-can’t… T-too s-sensitive…”

“You can’t be serious… All this teasing… Just for one teeny tiny orgasm… You’re funny! No no no… I’m here to make sure you get your fill… You said it yourself… You’ve been dying to hang out with me, no? Now you’re pushing me away… C’mon, bestie… What’s one more orgasm? Hm?” 

“W-wait wait… Haha… U-uh… Right right… y-you’re work… work… y-you need to g-get it done… I-I really shouldn’t keep you from your work…”

“Fuckkkk, you’re right… How could I forget? You’re so smart, hun… What would I do without you? However, that would be a problem if they didn’t already extend the deadline… Management has a way of setting impossible dates and extending them right after… Always trying to keep us on our toes… Make us work harder… But those idiots never learn… Though I guess we can thank them… A longer deadline means more time… And more time means you have my FULL attention…”

“N-no-”

“Yes! Now that you’ve run out of excuses… Why don’t you be a good girl and sit on my lap? Yeah? Or do you want to fight about it?”

Docile. No words or fits of protest. Just timid hands that reached across shaky hips. Freeing herself from her skirt. With hips, laid bare, she found herself atop me, pressing against my member. Her teary eyes solely fixed on my lap; resisting the unsavory urge to twitch and grind. Nerves shocked to a standstill. Yet softness clears way from worry. My hands brush along her cheek, tracing down her collarbone, and finally feeling up the suppleness of her chest. In turn, her breaths begin to calm and her heart settled. And with this, back into motion as I cradle her hips. Back and forth. Forward and back. Slowly getting used to the hypnotic rut. Her palms placed evenly among my frame giving her the balance to move from her languid state to a more feverish need. The growing confidence to get off on her own terms. The audacity after all her reluctance. My thumb now applying pressure, rubbing gentle circles to remind her of her place. Truly the calm before the storm. Her movements stutter and jerk at an unrelenting tempo causing her to finish quickly, once again in an unsightly manner. The incoherent pleas that begged for mercy overshadowed by the gentle coo of my voice cheering her on. The brainless mess that filled my lap, losing composure with each release. Watching every single orgasm come to pass. Forced to sit and repeatedly cum for my sick enjoyment.

“Oooh fuck… Look at you all blissed out… Did we finally get it out of our system? Hm? Do we need another? No? You sure? Alright... Finally got what you wanted… Yeah? Hahahah… What do we say when the nice man makes you cum?”

“T-th-ank you… S-sir….”

“Well, aren’t you fucking perfect? That’s a good girl… Mhm… It’s okay… You can relax now… I got you… Hush hush… No more… I promise… You’re all cummed out… Such a good job, hun…”

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

Yours truly,

GM

[lottiecrabie]

hello sweet lottie, I’ve just reread cyosa and I am back on my hands and knees begging for the alternate cuddle ending before you inevitably leave us (still can’t think about that without wanting to die btw xx). as a cuddle truther I must say there are not many days I go without thinking about what may have been hahaha. lots of love 4eva and eva ily

if i could directly send u this and Never give the shower truthers any resolution I would

you lay on the bed, still sweaty and panting, covers and limbs crisscrossing all together. your head rests on his arm, clutching his hand as though holding onto the buoyancy of him, as though you’d be drowning without. the room smells of sex. a grin teases your lips, too proud and fucked-out to be disgusted yet.

‘thank you,’ you speak, quiet and comfortable in the heat of the room. bone-deep happiness curls inside of you. you want to stick to him and the bed and never leave this moment.

matty presses the back of your hand with his thumb. ‘you’re welcome.’ you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. ‘thank you for trusting me.’

‘of course,’ you say easily. ‘though, it’s not really a compliment on me. you did all the work; i just let myself trust a completely dependable person.’ matty hums, musing.

after a moment of silence, your eyes dropping with exhaustion, he finally asks, ‘so why did you choose me?’

you readjust in his arm, the pinpricks of discomfort on your skin. reality, and the immensity of the ignored, presses your chest. ‘i mean, as we’ve said, i trust you. and—‘ you bite your lip, wondering how much you want to share, how much there even is to say. ‘you’re a good person. a good friend. you never make fun of me for all my pro-con lists or my neuroses. i knew— i don’t know.’ he’s quiet, pensive, and it all feels too much. you force out a laugh, joking, ‘plus, you know, there were all these rumors on campus that you’re a sex god or whatever.’

matty laughs. ‘so am i?’

‘you don’t need me to answer that.’

‘oh, come on. i deserve a little compliment for that performance.’ you slap his belly, shaking your head, but he just laughs harder. ‘so that was all?’ he asks again. you wonder what he’s searching for.

you sigh. bite your lip. ‘well, i guess i found you pretty too, if we are being honest.’

‘glad to hear it.’

‘don’t let it get to your head.’

‘too late.’ you can hear the smirk. you tsk. ‘you know, you’re a very quick study,’ matty declares to the room. you flush, ego and pride curling pleasantly up your spine. your smile widens in earnest ways you’d bother to hide any other times.

‘you’ve a very good teacher,’ you praise back, tilting up to look at him. he still gazes up at the ceiling, hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks red and glistening. god, he’s so pretty. you bite your lip. ‘we’re very good at this,’ you try, dipping a toe in the terrifying.

‘yeah.’ he says, quiet, thoughtful. ‘too good. i think we’ll wake up to many complaints from your neighbors.’

‘oh, yeah. you’re about to have the most watched walk-of-shame ever.’

‘everyone trying to catch a glimpse at the talent,’ matty tsks, faux-mournful. you roll your eyes, vaguely slapping his stomach again. ‘y’know, it might be wise to avoid it altogether.’ again, his eyes stubbornly face the ceiling, but you can feel how his breath hitches and holds under your hand. your grin curls in your cheek.

‘right,’ you nod. ‘wait a few days. give them time to forget.’

‘exactly.’ his thumb rubs the back of your hand. from nerves or from the desperate need to feel you, you’re not sure. ‘and, while we’re here, we might want to check a few other items off your list. just to maximize our time.’

‘smart,’ you laugh. ‘two birds, one stone, and all of that.’

‘of course, i don’t want you to think i’m only using you for things related to your bed. i’m very open to having dinner and any other activities to pass the time as well.’

you can’t take it anymore. you flutter your eyelashes at him, teasing, ‘matty, is there something you want to ask me?’

finally, he looks down and locks eyes with yours. something gets relieved at the sight of you. his smile grows, his hand tightening in yours. ‘do you want to go on a date with me?’ your heart rushes, a flutter of feelings in the depth of your belly.

‘yes,’ you say, grin shining on your cheeks. he can’t hold back the joy either; his head dips down, catching your lips. you push against him to tease, ‘kissing me before our first date? what’s next, you think i’ll put out, too?’

‘oh, i’d never.’

[smilingangel582]

Hii it's been long ik... im so sorry! But I actually decided to start writing after some time.

I waited too long for genshin impact new lantern rite... yet not a single lee!Ga ming?? I'm so sad

So I took the initiative to write, tho im not so good at it... hehe enjoy...

Ps. Ga ming seems adorable as hell! One of those fun and secret 5 stars!

Warning spoilers for genshin impact 4.4!

Punishment for payment

"Ga ming! Stop paying all the time!"

The wushoe dancers shrugs playfully, chuckling softly "But Paimon enjoys them a lot... I mean what sort of friend would I be if I didn't treat u guys to a regular dim sum?"

Aether groans, folding his arms as he looks at the young man with a wary expression. He casually turns to Paimon who has dozed off on the table like a white lump. His expression softens as he takes the final bite of the shrimp "You really are some thing..."

Ga ming gives a breif giggle, his tongue sticking out "Well I suppose you are giving in? Don't worry... I love to treat my friends to a regular breakfast"

Later that day, Aether and Ga ming left the restaurant... Paimon had insisted they could watch the Liyue vicinity in peace.

"Honestly you guys should visit more..." Ga ming states after observing the silence. Aether turns to him, leaning by the bridge as he smiles "We only went to fontaine for a few weeks you know"

Giving a childish whine Ga ming gestures "Still... its cool to hang out with you guys"

Paimon has gone earshot following a butterfly, and Aether gives him a pat on the arm "Well next time, let's go to Fontaine, and I will treat u to some cuisines"

The young wushoe dancer's eyes glistened like stars "deal! It will be dope to hang out with u Aether!" He adds frivolously "Also don't worry about paying... im gonna have to aid on the funds since your treating me"

Aghast, Aether gives him a playful shove "There you go being generous... stop it"

"What I mean I can't let the esteemed traveler pay for my starving needs" he winks and Aether pokes his side "Then allow me to split the bill at least"

With a giggly jolt he gently pushes Aether's hand away "Hehe but..."

Another poke as Aether smirks, "Now now, who was it that helped u with your family conflict?

Ga ming realises where Aether is going wjth this charade, he giggles more when the gentle playful prodding became precise, he squirms away "hehe you... its yoohou"

Aether Pauses for a moment, mischievous "Are you ticklish?"

Silence.

Ga ming notices Aether suddenly preparing and he stretches his hands front defensively, giggling in anticipation "H-hey uh what are you...?"

Aether grins wiggling his fingers "I'm gonna be paying the next Dim sum meal and you won't pay a single mora"

Ga ming bursts into titters the moment Aether tickled his ribs "ahh hehe hey! Haha come ohohon Aehehether"

Rolling his eyes Aether didn't stop "What did I say? No more tabs for you"

"Hahaha buhuhut"

Determined to get Ga ming, Aether playfully pressures his hips, a sensitive spot no doubt and sends cackles through him, high pitched and bubbly.

"Cute laughter you got there... I dont want to stop"

"EEK! OK OK WAHAHAIT" Ga ming shrieked as Aether pinches his hips.

"Oh? What is it?" Smirking. Aether traces patterns around his hips keeping him giggly and in anticipation.

"Ihihi uhuhu wehehell..." Ga ming squirms now in a mess of tumbling shrilled giggles. So cute.

Aether rubs his thumbs by the waist now "Ga ming~ what did u want to say?"

He bucks and then lets out "Ah ah! Hehehe uhum yohohou can tahahake the tab next time"

Satisfied, Aether backs off "OK so next dim sum will be my problem"

Flushed cheeks now finally returning to colour. He gasps "Haa... you sure are a merciless traveler... jeez the last time I was tickled to death was when my mom tried to punish me for pranking her"

"Oh so you were a rascal?"

Laughing Ga ming nudged Aether "Obviously... so, tomorrow's dim sum will be on me... byee!"

"Yeah, sure -no wait! Argh! Come here, you menace!"

Laughter spreads without haste... and soon Paimon joins forces with Aether to tackle him once more. The two playfully chase without cease. Ga ming will never meet a companion as great as the traveler, and the traveller will never encounter someone as delightful as the young dancer.

Liyue must be visited more often.

[wildesqdreams]

rom com

pairing - xander hawthorne x fem!reader.

summary - a girl who loves romance and a playful boyfriend spending time together. it's like out of a movie.

warnings - none, just fluff and cuteness, well, and xander's annoying scones.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: god, guys, it has been a while, hahaha. i'm sorry for not posting anything, i've just lost inspiration, but i'll try to write more, but i'm not promising anything... enjoy :)

'i wanna be thirty... thirty and flirty and thriving!'

y/n pulled the blanket up her body, as she got more comfortable on the bed, the smile not leaving her face. watching silly little rom-coms on her laptop with snacks and a peaceful environment was her way of having a fun time, so when her boyfriend suggested it, she was delighted.

she looked at her phone. 30 minutes had passed since xander left to get some scones, qouting, "what's life without a blueberry scone?"

even though the plan was to get everything ready, both being present and then start the movie night, y/n couldn't wait and started the movie - besides xander has watched it a million times because of her, since she loves love.

a small laugh escaped her lips from the scene, where jenna woke up as a grown-up and met the random man in her apartment. 'you're naked!' she spoke, using an umbrella as a weapon.

her gaze went to the door that opened, xander entering the room: "i'm back-" he stopped, the door shutting closed, but him remaining by it.

his hand went to his heart, "you started watching without me."

the smile on y/n's face grew wider at his sarcastic tone, "and you started eating without me?" she motioned to his hand that held a half eaten scone.

xander walked towards the bed, "couldn't resist it, besides jameson already ate most of the blueberry ones," he put the plate on the nightstand while eating the rest of the scone.

the girl hummed, "well, i couldn't resist the movie. besides, you've already watched it," her eyes met his, "multiple times."

her boyfriend chuckled as he moved the laptop off her legs, placing it further in the bed, "i feel heartbroken."

"hmm," she laughed, while xander climbed on top of the girl, putting his arms besides her on the bed, "well you should eat another scone then, since they're your favorite thing."

he laid on top of her, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, humming, when he felt her hand touch his hair, "mmm, after robots."

y/n chuckled, "dammm, and here i thought i was your favorite."

"naa, you're like in the third place or something."

"you jerk!" she faked gasped while smiling and pushed him off of her and off the bed. but before she could get comfortable, she felt hands pulling her waist, "wait, xander-" the noise of them both crashing on the floor filled the room.

xander groaned as his arms tightened around the girl, who was on top, "that's what you get for talking like that."

a small smile appeared on his face, "yes, ma'am."

the boy let out another groan since he was the one who landed on the hard floor, hitting his head in the process.

"you idiot," y/n brushed his curls away from his forehead, then placing her hand on his cheek, drawing small circles with her thumb on his skin.

the boy turned his head and softly kissed her wrist, "i love you," his lips traveled up her arm, "more than scones and robots," he pecked her shoulder before laying his head back on the ground.

"so you're telling me even more than blueberry scones?"

he grinned, "now, that's a little too far."

the girl chuckled, as she pushed his face with her hand, "shut up."

xander's arm traveled up her side to the back of her neck, pulling her down, as he turned his head back, "come here."

he let out a satisfied sigh when their lips met, his other hand squeezing her hip.

"i love you," she mumbled against his lips, her hand on his shoulder

he deepend the kiss, pulling her closer, "i love you too."

if y/n could choose one thing in the world, that would be staying in xander hawthorne's arms forever. feeling his soft touch and rapid heartbeat. feeling the love he has for her till she couldn't breathe anymore. the nerdy, sarcastic boy was her home. he was the dream that she wished for as a hopeless romantic. he was everything.

soon, xander pulled away, mumbling, "what do you think of watching the movie on the floor?"

she pecked his lips before getting up and grabbing the laptop and a blanket, "i would say you're a genius."

[explosionkatsu]

“Age doesn’t matter,” 18

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

Part 17

“What?” You questioned a bit surprised.

“Oh! Sheesh! That’s not what I meant!” Eijiro panicked on the other line. “I-i mean can I ask you out? Aaahh!! No! That’s not it!”

“You want to ask if I can go out?” Y/n clarified, giggling a little.

“Yes!” Eijiro almost yelled. “Are you... Busy?”

“Haha. You’re lucky. I’m completely free all day.” Y/n smiled but was disappointed deep inside. “Why?”

“Oh. We’re heading to Bakubro. I was hoping you could come since the gang wanted to see you again.” Eijiro explained as he watches Denki and Sero browse in the aisle of foods along with Mina and Jiro.

“Gang? Won't I intrude on you guys?” Y/n asked nervously. She’s not that familiar with his friends, plus, she didn't expect them to be this friendly even though you’re just Kazui’s babysitter.

“What? No!” Eijiro said, surprised at what he heard. “You’re literally our friend now! We’ll just come and pick you up after we shop for a snack.”

“Hey, who was that?”

“Was that Miss Y/n? Say Hi to her for me!”

“Denki said hi, haha!” Eijiro chuckled, “So, you in?”

Y/n isn’t sure what to say. She felt like intruding. Half of her wanted to come, but the other half don’t because of this reason.

“Does Bakugo know?” Y/n asked before she respond to Eijiro’s offer.

“No. Haha! It's always a secret!” Eijiro giggled. “If we informed him we’ll come. He’ll just shoo us away!”

Now that’s tough. Coming over uninvited was not your thing. But then, it would be fun.

“I-i guess I could come with you guys,” Y/n responded but still unsure.

“Great!” Eijiro beamed. “Just send me your address since I kinda forgot where you live. Hahaha. We’ll be there at 4:30! See you, Miss Y/n!”

“Yeah. See you.” Y/n said ending the call.

Oh boy. This is going to be very awkward.

...

“Hey. After this, we’ll pick Miss Y/n.” Eijiro said and put his phone in his pocket. “She agreed to come with us.”

“Does she now?” Denki looked at Eijiro. “Man, I can’t wait to surprise Kacchan!”

“Ehh?? Miss Y/n you say?” Mina pipped in.

“Yeah. She’s been hanging out with Bakugo for a while now since she’s been taking care of Kazui, remember?” Eijiro said as he took a bag of chips and placed it in the cart.

“Really!? She’s the one who did the indirect kiss, right?!” Mina beamed excitedly. “I can't wait to see her again!” She giggled. “Jiro, you're going to love Miss Y/n!”

“I’ve been hearing a lot about this Miss Y/n,” Jiro said while walking side by side with Mina.

“She’s very pretty! A really nice woman as well!” Mina said merrily. “Oh! Let’s Kazui an orange juice!”

“I’m looking forward to it them.” Jiro smiled.

“Hey, Sero- Hold on.” Eijiro was about to ask Sero when his phone started vibrating.

He took it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. It was Izuku. He placed his thumb on the answer button and placed his phone to his ear.

“Hey Midoriya, what’s up!” Eijiro answered.

“Hey, Kirishima.” Izuku greeted. “I was wondering if you’re on patrol today.”

“Uh, no. I’m actually with the gang. What’s up?” Eijiro responded.

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us with Shoto and the others. We’re heading to Kacchan’s,” Izuku said.

“Oh hey! What a coincidence! We’re heading there too!” Eijiro smiled finally heading towards the counter.

“Really? That’s great! We’ll see you there then. We bought a few snacks. Maybe we could have a small drink as well.” Izuku smiled and looked at Shoto who was driving.

“Sweet! We’ll see you there! Take care!” Eijiro smiled and ended the call. “Guys! Midoriya and the others are going to Bakubro as well!”

“Really?!”

“Oh, that's nice!”

“A get-together!!”

“Let’s hurry and pick Miss Y/n!”

...

“What to wear..” You ponder as you stared at your closet.

Casual? Maybe a pair of jeans and a shirt? What? No way. You’ll be with a bunch of heroes. You're quite sure they're wearing something neat and pricey since they are heroes. Well, money, duh?

What about a skirt? Long skirt? Maybe pair it with a fitted black shirt? Possible. A dress would be nice. Oohh. A sun dress? And white sneakers? Maybe?

“Ugh..” You pouted. “I've never had this dilemma before.”

In the end, you picked the white mini sundress you had and a pair of white sneakers and checked yourself in your mirror. It doesn't look bad. You thought.

After finalizing what to wear, you put on light makeup, brushed your (h/c) hair, and grab a purse.

“Almost done,” you mumbled to yourself.

Once finished, you checked every door, window, and outlet you had and finally checked the time. It was now 4:20. You’re a bit early, you thought. But the honking outside of your apartment says otherwise.

You left your apartment after double-checking the door if it was locked.

“Alright. Good to go,” you said and finally made your way to the car where Eijiro was smiling at you.

“You look very pretty today, Miss Y/n.” Eijiro smiled and unlocked the door to the front passenger seat. “Hop in.”

“Thank you.” You smiled back at Eijiro and went to the other side of the car and settled yourself on the seat.

“Hey Miss Y/n,” You heard, making you look at the back passenger seat where the heroes are seated.

“You’re looking extra pretty today.” Denki winked.

“Nice to see you again, Miss Y/n,” Sero smiled.

“Omg! You look so gorgeous! I love the dress! Tell me where you bought it when we get to Bakugo’s!” Mina exclaimed gaily.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Y/n,” Jiro said smiling at you.

“E-earphone Jack?” You stuttered, not believing what you are seeing.

“The only one.” Jiro giggled. “I’ve been hearing your name from these guys and it made me curious. It's really nice finally able to meet you.”

“W-wha. It's nice to see you i-in person!” You stuttered.

“Now, now, Miss Y/n. Get yourself together. You’ll meet a lot of other heroes as well.” Denki winked.

...

Ding dong

The sound that was heard in his home.

Katsuki didn't say a word and merely proceeded to the door. Unhurriedly, he unlocks the door, reached for the knob, and pulled the door open.

“Hey there, Kacchan!” Izuku greeted.

“Bakugo-san.” Momo bowed.

“Ara! Nice to see you again, Bakugo! Thank you for having us!” Ochako beamed.

“Friend,” Shot said, and bow down as well.

“Fuck off, Icyhot,” Katsuki said and walked away, leaving the door open for them.

“Whaa- it's been a while since I've last seen your house, Bakugo! It looks so luxurious!” Ochako wowed as she looks around Katsuki’s house.

“Everything did change,” Izuku said who was also looking around the house.

“Bakugo-san. We bought food. I hope it's okay.” Momo smiled while Shot was looking around as well.

“Go put it in the kitchen. Use whatever the fuck you want as long as you won't destroy anything. Clean after the mess you made.” Katsuki said while sitting on his sofa and watching the news.

And there he said he knows how to treat guests.

Anyway.

“Oh. By the way, Kacchan.” Izuku called out as he slowly approached Katsuki and sat on the opposite sofa.

“The fuck is it now, nerd?” Katsuki almost snarled.

“Kirishima and the others are on their way here as well.” Izuku smiled. “We wanted to-

“What?!” Katsuki roared making him stand up from his seat.

“Here we go,” Ochako whispered from the kitchen as she watches them.

“The fuck are you people planning?! A party?! In my house!? Oh hell no!” Katsuki yelled obviously pissed.

Izumi only sweat dropped, obviously used to this kind of outburst from his childhood friend. “Well, they did say-

Ding dong

Both heroes looked at the door.

“That must be them. I’ll go get it.” Izuku said slowly standing up and heading to the door to open it.

Katsuki just scowled as he watches Izuku opening the door, revealing no other than Eijiro and indeed, the gang.

“Midoriya!” Eijiro smiled and walked in.

“Kirishima.” Midoriya greeted.

“Hey there number 1.” Denki winked getting in.

“Izuku-chaaann!” Mina hugged Izuku before getting in.

“Heya Midoriya.” Sero pat midoriya's shoulder and when in.

“Hey there, Midoriya.” Jiro smiled and went in as well.

Y/n though was stuck standing in front of the door not knowing what to do.

“Oh. Are you a new friend?”

...

“Sorry, we invited ourselves, Bakubro,” Eijiro said scratching the back of his head.

Katsuki only glared at them.

“Jiro?”

Jiro looked behind her only to see Momo emerging from the kitchen. “Momo! I didn't know you’d be here!” She said and went to her side.

“Whoa. Are you guys cooking something? That's cool!” Denki grinned and run towards the kitchen.

“Are you a new friend?”

After hearing this, Katsuki's eyes widen a bit as he realizes who’s Izuku talking to. He instantly went to the door to see you, standing and looking breathtaking.

“Y/n?” Katsuki called confusedly.

“H-hi Bakugo.” You stuttered, not knowing what to do.

“Oh? You know her?” Izuku smiled as he watched the interaction between Katsuki and you.

“I was invited by Kirishima.” You muttered. “I hope I’m not overstepping.”

“Who the fuck invited you over?” Katsuki scowled.

Ouch.

That sounds harsh.

“W-well. Kirishima invited me. I said I didn’t want to intrude.” You mumbled looking away as you fidgeted with the lace of your bag.

“Tch.” Katsuki tched and just went inside his house.

You just stood there not moving an inch when Izuku spoke up.

“Kacchan can be like that.” Izuku gently smiled at you. “Come on. I would like to get to know you.” He said, motioning you to get in.

You gave Izuku a small smile before getting in the house.

...

Few drinks are opened. Some are strong for the men, while the light is for the woman. Well, only Jiro, Mina, and Ochako.

“Ahh. I thought I get to see Kazui.” Ochako pouted while holding her alcoholic beverage.

Izuku, Ochako, Shoto, and Momo are sitting all on the long sofa. Jiro and Mina are sitting on the shorter sofa to the right, Denki and Sero to the left, and 3 dining chairs where you, Eijiro, and Katsuki are.

“Kaminari here was looking forward to playing with Kazui.” Sero snickered as he said this and took a sip from his bottle.

“Hey! You wanted to play as well!” Denki pouted at Sero who just laughed at them.

“It's been a while since we saw him.” Momo smiled. “I would love to bring Kazui with me to the mall. Only if Bakugo-san allows it.” Momo giggled.

Katsuki only rolled his eyes.

“May I come with you if that happens?” Shot asked. “I wanted to make sure my friend’s child is secure.”

“Oh fuck off, Icyhot,” Katsuki growled and took a gulp of his drink.

“Mhm? I just wanted to keep him safe for we are friends,” Saying this, the people around the table burst out laughing except for you, Katsuki, and Shoto.

“Ah. By the way.” Izuku started. “I didn’t catch your name.” Izuku said looking at you.

“Oh, I’m Y/N Y/LN.” You smiled.

“That’s a kawaii name.” Ochako giggled.

“Do you work at any agency?” Izuku questioned as he took a small sip.

“Oh no.” You narrowly shake your head. “I am a kindergarten teacher.” You said smiling.

“As well as Kazui’s babysitter.” Eijiro pipped in.

“That makes clear why Kacchan knows you,” Izuku said.

“Mhm.” You nodded.

“I just wanted to say that you look really stunning in that dress you are wearing.” Izuku gave you a gentle smile causing you to blush.

“You do look pretty, Miss Y/n.” Momo agrees, making everyone around the table nod.

“I heard Miss Y/n is single.” Mina said in a teasing voice.

“W-what?” You stuttered.

“Maybe you can date her, Midoriyaaa~” Mina continued poking fun resulting in Midoriya and you turning red.

“W-what? No! I just complimented her cause she looks very pretty and I'm too busy being number one. Plus I think I don't have time to date even though I have my eyes on someone-

“You’re rambling, Midoriya,” Shoto said.

“A-ah! Sorry!”

You on the other hand kept your mouth shut while you were patting down the redness of your face.

Meanwhile, Eijiro was eyeing Katsuki in his peripheral vision and witnessed how Katsuki gripped the glass bottle making it crack.

...

“It think I’m going to get some fresh air.” Y/n said as she excuses herself.

“No problem!”

“Sure, Miss Y/n,”

“Take your time!”

“Thank you.” Y/n smiled and fled the group to exit the house.

Once Y/n shut the door closed, she inhaled intensely and let it out calmly.

It's nice meeting his friends but she just feels like she doesn't belong there. Everyone is nice and all but she does feel like intruding.

While thinking about this, she took a stroll around the house and stopped at the well-kept backyard.

Bakugou do garden? You pondered but went anyway.

Checking the time, it was 7:00 in the evening. Y/n can hear them laughing from inside the house. All the memories and stories she heard were entertaining, unbelievable, and amazing. She didn't know hero training can be that hard and yet here they are, all standing tall. Their professors must be really proud of them.

Taking another inhale, Y/n closed her eyes and exhales slowly as she try and calm her mind.

Today was very stressful.

...

Katsuki stood up, making Eijiro look up at him.

“Where are you going, bro?” He asked.

“Bathroom.” Katsuki lied and headed to the back door instead. He needed some fresh air as well but he unexpectedly saw you standing alone in the darkness.

Made quietly shut the door behind him and made his way toward you.

Your senses are deficient. He can easily sneak up on you if he wanted.

“How’s your flirting with that damn nerd, hah,” Katsuki speaks up causing you to get startled.

“Bakugo.” You said gasp clutching your chest. “You scared me.” You panted.

Katsuki only rolled his eyes.

“What did you just say?” You asked once you feel your heartbeat calming.

“Done flirting with Deku?” Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest as he watches you closely.

“Huh?” What is he talking about?

“Earlier. How he tells you you’re stunning.” Katsuki smirked.

“He said he was just complimenting me.” You slightly scowled at this.

“Doesn’t look like that to me.” Katsuki snarled quietly. “What? Gonna seduce him? Like what you did to me, hah?”

“B-bakugo. What are you talking about?” You were now confused making you take a step back.

“Denying it now, huh? Are you gonna seduce him like what you did to me? Did you dress up like this so that you can impress him? And then what? Get in his pants to-”

Slap

What has gotten into him? Is he drunk?

You were tearing up. You don't know what was happening to him. Why was he acting like this.

“Y-you have no rights to disrespect me, Bakugo-san.” You hiccuped. “I don't know what has got into you but you're being unbelievable right now.”

After saying that, Y/n rushed out of the backyard to grab her things. Everyone was shocked to see your teary eyes.

Y/n apologized and bowed to everyone before finally leaving the house. Meanwhile, Katsuki was left in the backyard.

Eijiro was the one quick to check up on him.

“Bakugo! What happened?!”

Part 19

..

I really enjoyed making this part. I might update again in a bit! Enjoy! 🥰

[sadhours]

omg bestie ok I’ll forget this idea so I need to tell u now- if u don’t like it or something always tell me. ILL STOP AFTER THIS HAHAHA

giving dom billy a handjob in a bathtub. You convince him to let you be in charge for once, He’s the little spoon and he’s just so fucking vocal and moaning so much. When he cums you take him by surprise by only stopping briefly before continuing again. He’s so shocked but turned on and he’s starting to losing his dominance, he becomes over stimulated but doesn’t use his safe word. At one point he even says ‘it’s too much’ or something yet he’s bucking himself into your hand and cums even more. It’s the hottest thing ever

ofc he takes payback in another form- maybe the next day?( I’ll leave that to ur imagination to write go wild bestie)

Heheh I love you ❤️

Sometimes Billy allowed you a bit of control. It wasn’t often but occasionally he would let you comfort him. Like now. He had a rough day of classes, college was harder than he anticipated and obtaining his major in marine biology was more demanding than he imagined. He had a lab today, he was on his feet for hours and he mentioned something about being sore. You suggested a bath. And Billy thought, ya know what, he didn’t take enough baths. You had the tub, might as well use it. He was privy to showers but you were an advocate for bubble baths. So he said fuck it and agreed.

He didn’t anticipate you getting in first and insisting he relax on top of you. Billy didn’t usually like being little spoon, he liked being able to hold you. But you insisted he deserved a bit of comfort and let’s face it, worship.

So that’s how he ended up with his back pressed against your chest in the tub. You’d helped wash his hair and torso, admiring the curves of his muscle as you massaged the soap against his skin. Then your hands got lower and lower and well… his thick flaccid cock was just there and you were pretty obsessed with it so you couldn’t not grab onto it. And Billy’s only human, it doesn’t stay soft for long, not with the way you squeeze the base. It’s fun to watch it grow but it also surges heat between your legs. You kiss against his neck, working your hand up and down his length languidly. He makes the prettiest sounds, little whines and whimpers.

Billy has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Nine inches— cut. The fucking thing almost reached his belly button it was so long. The slightest curve to it. Thick and heavy, the tip always gets the nicest shade angry red and God, does he get wet! Pale precum leaking from the tip. You find yourself totally captivated by it. It’s the best looking dick. Better than any you’ve seen. You’ve even suggested maybe he had a future in porn, surely anyone who saw it would worship it.

And his balls! You were equally infatuated with them. A good handful, not too low but not too high. They were sensitive, you loved to lick all over them, suck one gently into your mouth. Loved the way he would whine and whimper.

Billy kept himself very well groomed, blonde curls trailing from his lower abdomen to right above the base of his cock; the rest always shaved clean. He told you it felt better that way.

As you stroke him, he lays his head against your shoulder and these gorgeous, lovely moans tumble from his lips. You can’t help but think of how badly he deserves this, his pretty cock is worthy of all your attention and adoration.

You work him over in your hand, watching the motions in a bit of trance. In fact, you’re so enthralled by the view that you barely feel his weight on you. And moments where sex becomes solely for Billy’s pleasure weren’t rare. Because let’s face it, you don’t get any physical stimulation from having his cock in your hand or shoved down your throat but mentally, you were absolutely euphoric. Anything you could do to make him feel good, you would.

You curve your hand on the upstroke, making sure to run the pad of your thumb against his slit down to where his most sensitive spot is, where the head meets the shaft. When you do so, Billy tilts his head back and moans all pretty for you. A smile tugs at your lips as you pepper kisses along his exposed neck, “You like that, baby?”

“Mhm,” he moans softly, “feels so good.”

You bite at his skin while you begin to stroke him faster and he grabs ahold of your left hand, lacing your fingers. The water sloshes around you due the pump of your hand and the minuscule thrust of his hips. Your whole body erupts in tingles, turned on by what you’re able to do to him. Billy gasps out as you squeeze the base of him and hold still, his eyelids fluttering open so he can watch.

Once you know he’s looking, you continue stroking him but this time your grip is tighter and you begin to focus on the top of his shaft, ignoring the head and the base. Your head swims because he’s just so fucking hard and you’re starting to feel a little feral, eager to make him climax.

He whines, a slew of ‘em while his eyebrows shoot up and his mouth falls open. You know he’s close and you kiss his jaw, giggling softly while jerking him faster.

“Shit,” he curses, hips stuttering up while he lets go of your hand to grip the edge of the tub, “gonna c-cum.”

You bite his jaw and begin to include his tips in the strokes, not slowing down even a bit. As he starts to climax, you tightly wrap your fingers along his base and hold it steady. Lips parting with a smile as you watch his orgasm shoot out of him, smoothing your left hand over his hip.

He pants, chest heaving while he comes down from his high but he’s still hard. And you’re curious if he could go again so quickly. You giggle again and kiss his jaw some more before continuing to pump his dick in your hand.

Billy heaves a choked out sound, high pitched and shocked. It’s almost a squeak. His whole body jerks with it but he settles against you, rolls his hips into it as he moans some more. It excites you more, he’s done this to you many times, you know the feeling. It almost hurts but yet feels so good, too good to make it stop. He makes no sounds of protest, so you keep stroking him, using the cum that had dripped back down as lube which makes it even easier to pump him in your hand. You’ve got him whimpering, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his head tilted against your shoulder.

He gasps out after a minute, “Babe.. too much.”

The way his hips are bucking up into your hand tell you he’s loving it.

“I know you can cum again,” you coo, “I know you’re already close.”

Billy grits his teeth, eyebrows furrowing as he writhes above you. It’s quite the situation to see, your roles reversed. Usually he’s the dominant one, has you crying as he pulls orgasm after earth shattering orgasm from you. The stroke of your hand is a little worthless at this point, he’s fucking himself up into your fist until he’s spilling out for the second time. You keep pumping him in your hand until he grabs a hold of your wrist to interrupt.

“You fucking brat,” he mumbles with a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

“You love it.”

-

You and Billy get home from the bar on campus. The two of you have class in the morning so you behaved yourselves. Only a couple of drinks, a nice pleasant buzz warming your body. You stand at the bathroom counter, tying your hair up so you can get started on your bedtime routine. As your washing your face, Billy comes in and makes his way to the toilet. He lifts the seat and pulls himself out his jeans to pee. It’s all so domestic, the way he doesn’t care that you’re in here. He’s the only man you’ve seen pee and he’s actually scolded you for watching once or twice. But hey, you were just curious. You didn’t have a dick of your own.

He sees you peeking over and he shakes his head, “You’re such a weirdo.”

“I’m not weird!” you defend yourself as you squeeze toothpaste on your toothbrush.

Billy flushes after tucking himself away and turns to you, “Wouldn’t you think it was weird if I watched you pee?”

“No,” you admit around your toothbrush, scooting aside so he can wash his hands.

“Yeah, well I won’t ‘cause it’s weird,” he says, drying off his hands before reaching for his own toothbrush and the paste.

You shrug and the two of you stand side by side, looking at each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth. Billy always gives you this excited, giddy feeling. You swear you’ve never felt this way about anyone ever. Since you’d started first, you’re finished first. As Billy leans forward to spit into the sink, you slide your fingers into the curls at the bottom of his scalp. Not exactly sure why, you just want to touch him. Can’t help yourself. He rinses his mouth out and stands, turning to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His lips meet yours, tongue sliding across your lower lip before meeting your own. It’s easy to melt into it, melt into Billy.

He pulls away with a smile, “Minty.”

You roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder before making the short trip to your bedroom. You change into your nightgown, turn on the tiny TV and crawl into your bed. Billy follows, stripping down to his underwear before crawling in behind you. He grabs onto your waist and pulls you close, kissing your neck.

“Billy,” you giggle, “we have class tomorrow.”

“So what?” he asks, lips grazing your skin while his hand travels down and pushes your nightgown up and over your thighs. Billy’s got this way about him that has you melt against his touch, your legs start to part as you feel his fingertips dance against the skin of your thighs.

“We need to sleep tonight,” you mumble, tilting your head to give him more purchase of your neck.

“Uh huh,” Billy sits up between your legs and peels down your underwear. “You’ll get some sleep tonight…. Eventually.”

He smiles smugly down at you, getting his thighs under yours as he tilts your hips up. Your body ignites in anticipation, giggling softly as you watch him carefully. His eyes meet yours before he purses his lips, letting a trail of saliva drool out of his mouth and down to your cunt. A gasp falls out of your lips, watching him intently while he brings his fingers to between your legs. Billy’s fingers spread his spit through your folds, mixing with your slick while he holds down on your hip with his left hand. His lips tug up in smirk, watching the way your legs tremble at his touch. And he’s barely done anything.

“That feel good, baby?” he coos like you’re stupid, it shouldn’t turn you on the way it does.

You nod at him, bringing your hands up to your chest while attempting to roll your hips but Billy’s smoothing his hand out across your navel to still your movements, pressing you into the mattress while he rubs his thumb against your clit in circles.

“Billy…” you whine out, arching at his touch.

He spreads your pussy lips apart with his fingers, leaning forward to let another pool of salvia drip out of my mouth and onto your folds. Then he slaps his fingers against your cunt, grinning deviously while you yelp out from the contact. It surges wetness from you and leaves you squirming under his grip.

“Billy, more,” you beg and he listens, slipping a single digit into your wet heat. It feels nice but it’s not quite enough. You’re absolutely eager for more, need him to stretch you out. “More, more!”

He tsks, pulls his finger out and looks down at you with his lips pouted, “So goddamn needy.”

You whimper, wiggling your hips in frustration. You knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut but you’re desperate and sometimes Billy drags it out and spends way too much time teasing. He grabs a hold of your thighs, spreads them further apart and looks down at you.

“You won’t get what you want by being a brat,” he tells you with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to still your hips.

He hums, “You’re sorry?”

You nod, “Yes, sir. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Billy smiles and reaches back down to your cunt, circling his fingers along your entrance and you do everything you can to not roll your hips. In a swift movement, he enters you with his digits. Two of them. Sometimes it actually pays to be a brat. Billy might act like he won’t give you what you want but he’s not going to torture you. He wants you to feel good, he wants to please you.

You moan out softly, eyes fluttering shut while your head tilts back against the pillows. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them up to press against your g-spot. He presses his left hand on your navel again, holding you down as he fucks you with his fingers.

“Look at me, babe,” he demands, “Wanna see those pretty eyes while I make you cum.”

You obey, opening your eyes to meet his blue ones. His pupils are big, dark with lust. It makes your body even hotter, the way he looks at you.

“There she is,” he coos with a smirk, slipping a third finger inside of you. Another moan falls from you and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

“Fuck, Billy…” you whine.

The wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt is delicious, his eyes glance from between your legs to your face and the satisfied smile on his face is intoxicating. He curls his fingers as he drags them against your tight walls. Your stomach tightens as that familiar feeling erupts through you, makes your toes curl and your face feel hot.

“I’m… i’m coming,” you confess, grabbing onto his arm that’s pinning you to the bed while you come down around his fingers, clenching the digits while you cry out.

Billy doesn’t stop, though. He works his fingers even harder, pulling more cries and moans from you. It’s brutally overwhelming and you whimper out, clawing at his arm.

“Billy.. too much, ah!”

He bites his lip as your eyes meet and then he says, “Payback, baby. You’re gonna cum again.”

You immediately know he’s referring to the day before when you did the same to him in the tub. And while it’s a little painful because you’re sensitive, you’d really rather he didn’t stop. He lowers himself between your legs, still pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt as he licks through your folds. Your hands immediately grab at his curls, back arching while he laps at your clit.

“Oh my fucking god!” you cry out, thighs trembling.

Billy hums against you, lips curling up as he swirls his tongue around your clit. You tug at his hair, back arching up. You’re far past being overstimulated, begging for him to pull another orgasm from you.

“Billy…” you moan, closing your eyes tight as he sucks and licks at your folds.

His fingers work harder as his lips wrap around your clit and it sends you over the edge for a second time. You writhe against him, thighs trapping his head between them while you hold on tightly to his hair. When you come down and release him, he moves up and cups your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you wrap your arms around him, sighing into the kiss. As he presses his body flush against yours, you can feel his erection in his briefs pressed against your sore pussy.

You giggle softly, pushing his curls off his forehead as you look up at him, “Fuck me.”

Billy laughs, it’s breathless and beautiful. Like he can’t believe you’re asking for more.

“Ya sure? Can you handle it?” he asks softly, eyes a little glassy.

You nod, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down, “Wanna make you feel good.”

Billy hums and kisses you again, helping kick his briefs off. He reaches between your bodies to grab a hold of his cock, dragging the tip through your soaked folds. Your body jolts at the stimulation, forcing a giggle out of you and he smiles, looking down at you.

“You sure you’re sure?” he licks his lips, “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“It hurts so good,” you defend, “please fuck me.”

Billy exhales sharply, clearly affected by your words before he slips his cock inside your throbbing hole. You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist which only pushes him deeper inside you. He groans, grabbing onto your jaw as he looks down at you.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he mumbles, which makes you giggle because you’d told him too much earlier and he didn’t stop. You didn’t say the safe word, though. You never have with Billy. Never needed to.

“Shut up,” you say around your giggles and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Want you to fuck me until I can’t think anymore.”

Billy inhales sharply, thrusts his hips hard against you and don’t miss the glazed over lustful look in his eyes. You know he loves when you talk like that.

“Yeah?” he grunts, “You’re such a good little cock slut. Want me to use this tight fuck hole?”

“Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp out.

His hips piston harder and faster, he pulls back just enough so he can loosely hold onto your throat and hip. The force of his thrusts make your tits bounce, makes your whole body shake underneath him. And he’s true to his word, he uses you like his own personal fuck toy. Billy’s face contorts in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and his adorable nose scrunched up in concentration. You watch his face until you can’t anymore, the sensation of a third orgasm creeping up on you and your eyes cross before they squeeze shut. You’re practically screaming, noises uncontrollable while Billy drills into you relentlessly. Once your body seizes with the third, incredibly tiring climax, Billy pulls out and crawls up so his cock is in your face. He jerks himself a few times before shooting across your face. A few drops land on your awaiting tongue but when he’s so riled up, his sim is shit and he gets most of it on your cheeks and hair.

He pants above you as you swallow what’s in your mouth. You keep your eyes shut just in case. It doesn’t feel like any landed on them but to be safe, you wait patiently for him to clean you up. And after he does, he lays beside you, lights a cigarette and pats your thigh.

“You did good, doll. Always such a good girl for me.”

[maximotts]

okayyy but the Private Hire ladies forcing R to take turns eating them out before literally making R cum their brains out

remember when I said this was coming out like two hours ago but then everyone and their mother (and my own mother) decided to derail me with random tasks? hahaha yea anyways... this wasn't supposed to be as long as it is, but well- it's the mob wives and I adore them. I hope you enjoy it, nonnie!

pairing: Private Hire AU; WandaNat x reader

warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI; smut, top!Nat, switch!Wanda, kinda switch!R; fingering, face sitting, shameless groping, strap-on use (r recieving), oral, overstim, honestly R gets a little bratty for a bit, but it's only because Wanda coddles her way too much, idk uhm.. a lot of messy sex

words: 2.1k

private hire masterlist. || main masterlist.

“Fuck, baby, right there… Stay still now-”

If moving was even a thought in your mind, Natasha’s vice grip on your skull would’ve squeezed it away. She held you in place effortlessly, fucking against your open mouth so roughly your nose was beginning to hurt. “God, your mouth.. I need to take you with me next time I go away…”

Strong as she was, Natasha could only reach the top of you from her seated position against the headboard— the rest of you was Wanda’s job.

One steady hand pressed you to the mattress by the small of your back, her other busy between your legs and two fingers drove into you so perfectly, there was no hope of holding off. Wanda always had a little too much fun whenever she shared you with Natasha, but then again, she’d always been prone to getting carried away. “Are you going to be a good little dove and make daddy cum?”

You moaned your response against Natasha’s cunt, a wet, muffled noise as the woman behind you curled her digits into that spongy spot Wanda loved to play with. Pushing you to your limits was the couple’s favorite pastime and tonight’s game was being their obedient toy for as long as you could last; when you came, you were done.

It seemed simple enough until you found there wasn’t a single moment when one of them wasn’t touching you; Natasha making you cockwarm her while you fondled Wanda’s breasts only for the brunette to flip you as soon as she finished, pushing you between her wife’s thighs. They knew you inside and out as if they’d handcrafted you, expertly working you over until the few thoughts left in your head were completely of them and the pleasure they could bring if you did as they asked.

You’d been a hopeless jumble of whines when Wanda refused your mouth on her, insatiable since the first night she allowed you to go down on her, but she’d promised to let you once she got to watch Natasha cum. Play by the rules, love. We’re not going anywhere.

The compromise was keeping your mouth busy with Natasha, always happy to watch you go lightheaded as she used you without a care in the world, muttering curses and praises that, when you could understand them, only grew filthier the closer she got to her end. “Gonna cum on your tongue, sweet thing, and you’re going to take it all like the greedy little whore you are…”

She tugged at your hair and you sobbed your agreement, daring to swirl your tongue over her entrance, just barely teasing the sensitive ring of muscle, and not a second later, Natasha was twisting and convulsing above you. So enraptured with the glorious sight of the redhead’s release, you forgot to keep your own at bay, Wanda’s thumb rolling over your clit sending you headfirst into a powerful orgasm the two women had been so carefully building up for hours.

“Poor baby, was that all too much for you?” Wanda let you clench around her fingers, watched you savor the slow drag of them as you desperately rut against her hand, used to at least one of them keeping you at that high until you broke all over again. This time though, the brunette’s fingers came to a stop and both women chuckled hearing the whine muffled into Natasha’s inner thigh.

With the dreaded loss of Wanda’s touch, you scrambled up the expanse of Natasha’s now slumped form, kissing her before she could even think of pushing you off. “I did good…” It was a statement more than anything and if Natasha’s hungrily devouring the taste of herself from your lips was any indication, she agreed, “Let me play with mommy now…”

Natasha heard you, there was no way she didn’t, but she had no qualms ignoring you until she’d licked every bit of her arousal from your mouth. “Game’s over, dove. You cum and we’re done.” She would’ve continued kissing you if you hadn’t shied away, crossing your arms over your hickey covered chest in defiance. Natasha met your budding tantrum with a raised eyebrow, immune to your bratty behavior. Really, she didn’t know why you tried with her anymore, you might as well be going against a steel wall. “You’re the one who agreed. Don’t get fussy about it now.”

“But it wasn’t fair! I did what you said-” The instant Wanda smoothed a hand along your bare shoulders you melted, falling back into her and burying your face against the crook of her neck. She engulfed you in warm arms, let you wiggle until you’d found your coziest spot; right where Wanda couldn’t see you stick your tongue out at her strict wife.

“Don’t you dare cry to her, rules are rules.” Natasha sighed, ready to yank you from Wanda’s grasp and punish you for being so cheeky, but Wanda was already cooing over you, kissing your cheeks in a bid to settle your grumpy mumblings. “Wanda…”

“She couldn’t help it, Tasha, let her try again.” Wanda butt in before Natasha had a chance to sway her away, the unsated need in her core and your upset face spurring her to advocate on your behalf. “It’s not even late.”

Natasha could go on and on about how pitiful a sight you never failed to put on; any issue you’d complain about to her wife and she’d coddle you like a child spoiled rotten as long as she wasn’t upset with you. Sometimes even then, you could persuade her if you added just the right amount of a puppy dog pout. It wasn’t worth the fight, not when she also benefited from their makeshift game night.

She leaned forward to rest her weight on her hands, sharp eyes darting between her wife and girlfriend, “You only want her to try again because you want a mouth on that needy little cunt of yours, tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong,” Wanda closed the distance with a kiss, her not so secret intentions to persuade her wife for her own benefit now clear as day, “but you want to fuck her too. We can all get what we want.” Her last few words were punctuated with more featherlight kisses, all while you left your own over Wanda’s exposed collarbone. Natasha might not have agreed just yet, but she was too preoccupied with Wanda’s lips to notice her hands wandering, cupping your sex before plunging two fingers right back where you’d barely had a chance to miss her.

It was only when you began audibly gasping that Natasha caught on, sliding back with a knowing grin. “So sneaky, my love, as if I wouldn’t catch you with how noisy this one is.” Her comment left you blushing, hips jerking with the sick tingle the embarrassment brought on.

You would’ve happily spent the rest of the night between the two of them like this, snug around Wanda while Natasha teased you silly, but as content as you were, that meant nothing for what they wanted with you. When Wanda’s hand tried to leave this time, your legs clamped around her before she could escape, “Don’t go…”

Wanda only laughed, Natasha prying your thighs apart despite your best efforts, manhandling you down until the back of your head hit plush pillows, “Calm down, little one. You asked for this, yes?”

She almost felt bad for you as she took in your hazy eyes, arms grabbing for them both as you thought of nothing but your own pleasure and how great your need was for the two women who clearly had some plan they refused to let you in on. Still you nodded, jaw falling open as Wanda threw one leg over your head, hovering her pelvis just out of reach. You knew better than to touch before given explicit permission, but if she was wet when you’d seen her earlier that night, she was positively soaked now; if only you could be so lucky as to have even a drop of her arousal fall onto your waiting mouth.

She hadn’t restrained your hands and they quickly flew to Wanda’s soft thighs, squeezing and pulling in an effort to force her down. It was no use, arms weak from a long night of teasing, but as Wanda leant forward, palming your chest, you couldn’t stand another minute of denial, “Fuck, please let me taste you..”

“Ah ah, what do we say first for convincing Natasha to let you play again?” She was going to kill you, you were sure of it. If Wanda didn’t, it’d be Natasha, thick strap back in place on her hips and sliding between your abused folds.

“Thank you, mommy..” A dull slap rang out, Natasha’s palm wet against your sex and you whimpered an apology for your forgotten gratitude, “and thank you, daddy…” Your voice was hoarse, but it didn’t matter, Wanda lowering those last few inches until you both shared a delighted sigh. She wiggled her hips as a test, earning her a groan deep from your chest, tongue already waiting.

Natasha was quick to fill you this time, knowing you’ve already been well and thoroughly stretched for her to slide right in. Heavy legs fell against the bed, leaving her with the oh so gorgeous view of your pussy spread wide open. She watched you twitch as she pinched your stiff bud between her fingers, pulling the silicone toy out until only the tip breached your entrance— just to bottom out yet again and leave you choking. “Shh, relax.. If you bite Wanda, she’ll never forgive you, trust me.”

Heeding her warning, you gave Wanda an apologetic lick, sucking at her clit until she was the one gasping for breath. “Just like that, sweetheart, d-don’t stop—” The moment Wanda fell close enough, Natasha swooped in, capturing her lips effortlessly.

“Are both my girls happy now, you got what you want?” Two noises of satisfaction erupted again, yours muffled and Wanda’s loud and uninhibited. The new angle meant she could fuck you deeper, that devious head of her cock making contact with your favorite spot on every push. When you came this time, Natasha showed no signs of slowing down, if only because the vibrations of your moans on her pussy left Wanda in absolute shambles, whimpering meek adorations as she rode your face through her high.

Your mouth left her just long enough to shift positions, greedily lapping her cum from her hole and unabashedly using your tongue to fuck it back into her like Natasha had so graciously shown you how to to just to her liking. “Such a good girl for us, always doing your best to please us..” Above you, Wanda panted audibly, accent thick as she rolled her pelvis over your face and you tried your hardest to match the rhythm Natasha was working you back up with. “Just like that, my little dove.. So perfect..”

It was Wanda’s touch that you felt this time, oversensitive enough for it to border the line between pleasure and pain. No matter how you writhed, they had you trapped, forced to take whatever they gave. “M-Mommy.. hurts..”

You thought you were spared that confusing sensation of Wanda’s soothing but dreaded attention— until hot saliva met the top of your cunt. “Shh, stay put.” Careful fingers smeared it over your overstimulated clit, adding to the mess you already knew you were making atop their bedspread. Your brain was too fuzzy to protest, consciousness only focused on that pleasurable stretch between your legs and Wanda’s sweetness coating your tongue.

“There now.. mommy and daddy won’t hurt you.” Some final piece clicked with Natasha’s words, taught body relenting even as your bosses worked you selfishly, filling you and rubbing you until you cried out against Wanda in your third orgasm of the night. “You’re in good hands, sweet thing.”

Both women were well aware of how easily fucked out you got, Natasha in particular with how insistent Wanda was to exploit in you the same qualities she had within herself. Not that Natasha ever let her forget. She caught the brunette trembling, guided weak arms over strong shoulders until Natasha was the only thing holding her upright. “I wasn’t done, Nat…”

Grateful as you were for the relief from her wicked touch, some insatiable urge still craved more and slowly, mindlessly you fucked yourself on Natasha’s strap, unwilling to be left with no stimulation just yet. It was all you could do while you sent Wanda soaring again, core clenching around your relentless tongue, thighs clenching over your ears painfully.

Wanda looked at her wife, face flushed but clearly the most level-headed of the three, and as one sneaky hand met her breasts, toying with her nipples in a way that left her near suffocating you as she spasmed, she knew their game was far from over. “Who said I was done with either one of you, princess?”

[moon-mage]

heaves a heavy sigh because fucking crap I am in LOVE Okay so. This was not meant to even go this far but here I am. Absolutely far gone. My INITIAL plan was to try to come up with a big bad villain to write a TWST fanfic about because I love taking all my favorite characters...throwing them in hell...and then orchestrating the drama and chaos while going: "why would anyone do this to these poor innocent peoples?" and "hahaha this is SO fun their suffering fuels me!".

One of my all-time favorite movies growing up was Anastasia. The 1997 animated Don Bluth film. So, I was like "oh boy what if I did a twist on that version of Rasputin?" Which holds promise considering he is a powerful lich sorcerer coded in death, ghosts, limbo...all my favorite tropes that I cannot get enough of. But Rasputin aint shit without his sassy bat familiar, Bartok. Their dynamic is interesting considering Bartok spends the entire movie telling Rasputin to get a life and stop trying to kill Anastasia. So, I thought on twisted Bartok more and....it just...it hasn't stopped. It hasn't stopped.

Now we got Sashmir Magnifico. The twisted version of Bartok AND Anastasia. Originally, he was just going to be twisted Bartok, but I ended up adding in elements of Anastasia to him as well and I liked it.

Sashmir is a bat beastman and a lot of people assume he is an albino bat, but his lack of pigmentation is a side effect of his Unique Magic; "Together In Spirit". He doesn't go further into details about it other than 'the adults around him growing up were not knowledgeable of magic and forced him to use his magic for the benefit of others without thought of the consequences on him'. Only a few people know his UM and its capabilities, and he wants to keep it that way. The incantation for his UM is: "I am the key...that unlocks your potential...I promise we shall stay...TOGETHER IN SPIRIT." Sashmir is a 2nd year student at Night Raven College in Ignihyde dorm. He is interested in biology and the combined use of magic and science for enhancing and healing the human(oid) body and mind. He also has a passion for music, having learned how to play most instruments to a passable degree and he taught himself how to write sheet music. He does so with popular songs and makes them available to the public while recording himself playing them online. He loves teaching...and tutors for free on Monday and Wednesdays at 12AM in the Ignihyde dorm lounge. He had hoped to one day become a music teacher but decides the more practical route would be to continue magical medical sciences. He doesn't like shoes and has lost his shoes when taking them off and leaving them places. One of the first time of magics he had learned was levitating as it felt natural for him to not be on the ground all the time. Personality wise, he is rather chill and easy going. He speaks in a Romanian accent and isn't afraid to clap back with the sass or defend himself if challenged. Sadly, Sashmir is under the thumb of a powerful and dangerous sorcerer...and the days are numbered until his master makes his grand appearance and destroys the "peace" of NRC. All according to plan and...all that evil jazz. I have a LOT MORE THINGS TO SAY but I will make a post specifically for his info dump I guess. I'm sorry I love this boy... Also you see the candy and coffin...if you know...you know.

[jolapeno]

vi. believe in us

javier peña x dea! f!reader | chapter six of nowhere to run

chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers. no use of y/n. hints at smut. jo-feels. feelings realisation. things are getting deeeeep. Wordcount: 7.1k an: i know people tell me not to apologise for the length, but i'm trying to follow the episodes hahaha. if there are errors, i'm sorry. pls forgive me. as always, huge thank you to @yeyinde who loves these characters as much as me and to @guyfieriii who lets me chew their ear off about them far too much to be real.

series masterlist

“Fuck, I can’t believe he knows we’re…”

We’re. 

Barely a millisecond goes by, but time slows. 

“We’re?”

“Having fun.” 

He feels his shoulders shrink, the earlier annoyance melting as if it was nothing—like it was never there. Replaced by something far harder to stomach, something which wrapped around his insides and yet didn’t constrict to hurt, just hung loosely, torturously there.

“Cariño, I think we’re having a bit more than fun…”

You throw him a sharp look—one made from a mixture of ice and a blade. “It’s not going to matter what we’re doing, not now he knows.”

But, what are we doing? He wants to ask, mouth opening all set to. His hand rising, thumb swiping over his bottom lip, tightening his jaw as he realises this isn’t the time.

Not from the anxious way you’re biting at your lower lip, not in the way you’re hugging your arms close—not in how you occasionally flick your eyes to him, panic swirling, mixing with something he’s not sure he has the answers to help with.

It’s hard not to stare at the cup on your desk. 

The one sitting amongst the mindless chatter that blends with the dull, constant noise of a phone ringing and surrounded by the sounds of tapping—all at different speeds, intensities and types. The sounds circle around the speckles of dust, the ones swirling in with the sunlight, desperate to get in from the outside. 

Light tries, with all of its might, to kiss away the darkness. The one which clings to the walls. The dark wood, the walls—even the blinds. Desk lights are a permanent fixture if you plan to do anything but squint. Not that you mind.

You don’t need the sun to warm your cheeks, just the cup and its implications. 

The one grabbed in between dropping you home and him heading into the office; the one already waiting for you to get in. Your skin is still damp from your rushed shower—your body still sore from spending a night with him. 

It's easy, when it shouldn’t be—sleeping with him, your boss. All casual, fun and no strings but a whole twisted bundle of mess, too. One that would be so easy to worsen or fix. 

The coffee inside that cup doesn’t alleviate any of it. 

Not even as you try to tell yourself it’s nothing. The same way you do when you’re in the middle of something, and your eyes catch his, finding his usually coiffed hair has become frayed at the edges. It makes you want to go in and soothe away whatever has forced him to play with it. But you don’t, trying to hold yourself back—knowing what happens when you usually enter his office.  

“Everyone else has gone home.”“They have.” “So, do you want to have sex on your desk again?” He studies you, eyes dark, thumb tracing his jaw as you slide the fabric of your skirt up. Catching his brow raising, feeling your way up his tie, his body subconsciously moving between your legs. “Let you do it from behind this time,” you whisper. He turns you, running a hand up the back of your thigh, the other gripping your hip.“You thought about it… fucking me from behind, leaning over your desk?” His lips curl, breath along your cheek. “Every time your eyes look at me through the fucking blinds.” 

It had been messy since he’d showed up at your place, even if Javi hadn’t come to your house again. Instead, it’s his place—the office becoming risky. Even if the memories remain, to the point you’re unable to even be in the file room without some reminder flashing behind your eyes or hearing him whisper into your ear, Anyone else made you moan right here, cariño. 

The coffee had begun appearing on your desk when he dropped you off at home before heading in. A pretence, a suitable cover story. Arriving in two cars, leaving in two—no one knowing he drives to yours half an hour after he’s left to pick you up. 

You rarely have to miss the way he buries his nose close to your ear; how he lets his lips whisper silk into them—his broad chest hugging your spine. You barely have to think about his mouth between your thighs, you get to experience it. Not nightly, but close. 

“You gonna be quiet?”You pause, silence blanketing the two of them before you whisper, “No.”

You’re in too deep, that much is known. 

The house of cards the two of you had poorly built, were waiting to fall and crush you. The line having become so blurred and so knitted with emotions, you’re suddenly worrying why you’re not desperate to run from them.

Because you don’t want serious.

Having continued this because he never seemed the type. Wouldn’t have let it get so far if he did.

Now, you were finding it hard not to let yourself slip. Not just because he cared or because he toed doing right and wrong, or even because he was handsome. But rather, that there was something undeniably easy about him. It’s more than simple charm and grit—more than lingering eyes across a room and a feeling that blooms like wildfires in a field of nothing. 

You wonder if he knows, senses it: your unease. The way you flitter between letting him and banishing him. It’s why you stare at the coffee, unsure if today you should drink it. Reading the label, seeing no note—knowing there never is one. There not needing to be one. 

You know who purchased you the coffee. The same one who you sense behind you before he speaks, the one you stand up and turn to face—grabbing the white cup in your palm as you stare at him. 

Letting anger bubble to the surface, replacing the other emotions, the ones you spend far too much energy fighting than resolving. 

“I know what you’ve done.” 

Javi has the decency to look taken back. 

Even if you know each microexpression—having become literate in Peña, both the faux and the real. 

Stepping back, he cocks his head. An invite into his office, as if you ever needed one before. But, you follow—perfectly in step, able to read his body as if the two of you were back under the sheets. 

“What have I done then, cariño?”

“Don’t butter me up, Peña.” Lifting the cup in a demonstration, halting his smile before it grows into a smirk—half-wondering if you’ve been added to the list of women who have. “You think I wouldn’t hear about the phone tap?”

His eyes narrow, jaw tightening. “Stoddard…” 

“I know shit, Peña.” 

Stepping closer, you take a sip of the coffee. Instantly, you hate him for how good it tastes. That you know it’s from the place near yours, the one you foolishly told him about and now keeps going. 

Shaking your head, you sigh. “Stop hiding things from me.” 

“I wasn’t… fuck, you’re good.” 

“I know. Wish you’d stop being surprised by it.” 

His smirk always meets his eyes. Spreads across his cheeks—smoothing out worry lines and creates ones of beauty in its place. It’s hard not to notice, not with the way his eyes shimmer and how his lustful gaze wraps you in honey.  

“I’m not.”

Narrowing your eyes, you exhale. Loudly. Moving around him, staring over his desk—the many more files added onto the pile he hasn’t cleared, taking another sip.

“You are, and it’s deeply upsetting. I can’t take bullets for you, if you don’t tell me we’re going to be shot at.” Your hand picking up a file, shoving it into his chest. “Do I make myself clear?” 

His thumb swipes over his bottom lip, not hiding the way his eyes look you up and down. Slowly. Almost trawling them up and down you, lighting you on fire in the same way his tongue did last night. 

“Maybe I should have sent you to Cali? Have the rest of them caught before they know what hit them.” 

Your lips curl, a coldness falling over you—a twist in your chest, one you can’t fault him for, knowing he couldn’t be to blame. 

“Javi, you’d stop me before I even got in the air,” you bite back, the tease evident but the usual tone removed. “You’d miss having something to fuck other than your fist.” 

Sometimes, the day drags on, and others it hurls nothing but surprises. 

Today, you arrived to find both a coffee and a piece of fruit—making you smile so broadly that even Stoddard noticed. 

You blame that for the reason you don’t stop him from taking you by the elbow hours later—the first sign which should have rang alarm bells. Javi pulls you with him, saying nothing—feeling warm fingers along your elbow that make your heart skip a beat.

He leads you right through his doorway, your file clutching to your chest. It’s not until the door slides shut behind him do you realise all your thoughts are diluted, muted. His presence doing that. That and the fucking scent of him. The one you’ve come to despise washing from your skin the moment he drops you off, so the two of you can continue the story that he doesn’t spend random nights of the week fucking you into his mattress. 

The scent of him clings, a fixture. One which mixes so easily with the air, your nose becomes desperate to take it all in, as though if you don’t, it’ll all be wasted. 

You wait for him to shut the blinds, and enjoy a stolen moment, but find you watch as his hands slide to his hips. An unsettling feeling unwinding from a dark corner. Knotting, needling into you as you try to level your breathing. 

“Javi…” 

“Is Stoddard’s job meant to be yours?”

You notice his eyes don't move. Paying attention, fixated on your micro-expressions. 

“The day you first spoke to me. I asked you what they—“

Running your tongue across your teeth, you straighten your spine. “You asked what they gave me.” 

They cut, your words. Slice straight through whatever it is he’s implying. Halting whatever else was due to fall from his lips, stopping him from speaking as his lips clamp together, pinning him in place.

He lifts his chin, a hand coming to brush over his jaw and neck. “Were you offered Stoddard’s job, cariño?” 

You swallow, somehow able to keep your face unchanged even if your fingers twitch, your back relaxing, before you shake your head. It's easier to look away, the festering acerbity doubling as you turn your back to him.

“Yes.” 

He snorts. It's loud, quickly followed by the sound of his shirt moving as he likely runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Fuck. Why—why didn’t you… you should have told me. You fuckin' lied—“

You don't bother to smother the fury in your eyes, you throw it at him, burn him with it. “No. I didn’t lie, Peña. You asked what they gave me, implying I took it. I didn’t take it. I declined it, I resigned myself to shitting desk duty and let him have it.” 

His face doesn't change, not even under your stare. “You should have taken it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re fuckin' good, you’re… you do the right thing, you know everything that goes on in this place, cariño—“

“I’d have taken it. If I had earned it,” you spit, looking him up and down. “I’d have ripped it out of their goddamn hands and plastered my fucking name on that desk. But, it wasn’t offered to me because I’m good, because I know what I’m doing. It's a trap, a way to get me to stop... pushing, stop finding things. And you know it. You must do. Read all about it in the fuckin' file you have on me." 

It’s instant, the way his stare softens, panic spreading in his eyes. The way your words make him lose his breath, the tension shifting and transforming into something wounded—uprooted from the growing rage and apparent injustice he felt he’d faced. 

Smirking, you lick your own lips. "Yeah, Javi, I know about that too.”

He drops his arm, moving towards you, with no emotion in your eyes. “I don’t know shit because you won’t tell me.” 

You stare, coldly. Taking a second, a moment. Already knowing he can tell you’re rattled, stressed. You’ve allowed him to get close enough to be able to tell. He knows what makes you tick, what undoes you—what makes you go from one to a hundred.  

Transferring his skill at reading people to you, likely creating some encyclopaedia solely dedicated to just your micro-expressions. In the same way, he has written mental papers about what a flick of his tongue or a nip of his teeth can do. Never mind the little things that make up your mood. 

“Lemme guess, Stechner?” you ask, folding your arms as he nods. “Maybe you should ask him why they wanted me to take the job, Peña. Because I’m not the one who lied.” 

He sighs, nothing being said as you slowly swallow. 

“I can’t tell you shit—I… I thought I made that clear.”

“You can tru—“

“It’s not about trust, Peña.” 

It comes out harsher, more like fire than ice. 

Sunshine yellow, splintered sobs, carmine-stained palms… whimpered pleading, panicked breaths. Blood-splattered walls and shredded bedding…

You sigh too, softer, less loud. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I may not tell you everything, but…” You roll your lips, staring around the glass room. “Fuck, I can’t believe he knows we’re…”

We’re. 

Barely a millisecond goes by, but time slows. 

“We’re?”

“Having fun.” 

The words hurry out, even if you hate them. They’re not the right descriptors, but you’re not sure which ones would be better. Not now. Not when it had gone too far. With true having already slithered its way through openings that shouldn’t exist. Having moulded itself into creating something less carnal and more needed. So much so, the list of excuses are running short, finding only reasons why you keep letting him in then why you should keep him away. 

The truth of it all is so easily there, simmering and ready. Yet, you don’t allow them to escape, not needing to show him your hand—to let him see how easy it has been to weave under your walls and layers. Especially when you’ve spent so much time keeping him out. 

Then you see his eyes, how they’re wide but hardened, his lips clamped together, tight. Your walls are threatening to quiver and fall at the sight. 

“Cariño, I think we’re having a bit more than fun…”

“It’s not going to matter what we’re doing, not now he knows.” 

You watch as his mouth opens, but no words come. Just his hand rising, thumb swiping over his bottom lip as his jaw tightens—sliding from side to side.

Shaking your head, you banish it—what his words would have been, what they could have been. The back of your hand against your forehead. “Shit…”

“What?”

You laugh. More hysterical, more out of surprise and acidic emotions as you process—slower than normal, going as far as to pinch your forearm to see if it’s real. 

“He has me over a barrel. One wrong move… it all comes down.”

Javi steps closer to you, fingers on your cheek, lifting your eyes to his. “Wait, what?”

You don’t mean it, the look of disbelief, but it flurries across your face—unable to mask it quickly enough. “C’mon, Javi, you don’t think now if you defend me, if you argue with them, ask them for anything related to me, they won’t think it’s because I snaked my way into your bed? Because newsflash, that’s how things work, Javi. Women—good women—get plastered with only being half as good because of the company they keep.” 

You run a hand over your mouth as you pull away from him, slowly sinking down into a chair as you bury your face. 

For a second, you can hear him not move, just breathing. A sound you’re so used to finding calming as night blankets his room. When you’re frozen out of fear of waking him. Now you’re frozen because you're unsure what to do. No plan B. No get-out clause you’ve created for yourself. 

“Cariño…”

“You don’t get it, Javi. You haven’t dated someone in your workplace and had them gossip about you like women have. When you fuck around, you’re a hero. If I do it, if women do it….” His jaw tightens, all noticeable, running his own fingers over his chin. “It doesn’t matter if I’m good, I’m not a man. It’s why I was the one gossiping about when things ended with Chris, when I got back from Cali and was deemed unstable. Now, sleeping with you?”

“Hey—“

“You know, if he fucked his way through the department, no one would bat an eyelid. I do it, I’m trying to sleep my way to the top.”

He moves, crouching before you, pressing his hand over the top of your knee. “But you’re not.” 

Smiling, you sigh softly, leaning back into the chair. “No. No, I’m not.” 

He tightens his hand on yours. 

“You have places to be...” 

He looks at you through his lashes, whispering your name. Making it sound gentle, nice.

Blinking, you harden your face. Tightening your jaw as you lift your chin. “I don’t need your pity, Javi. I… I’m a grown woman, who I choose to fuck shouldn’t matter, not when it’s nothing serious—“

“—Look—“

“—I just need you to do your job, Peña.” You stand, his hand falling from your knee, face void, empty. Expression wiped from all corners of his face. “Because all of this, between us, isn’t worth undoing all the work we’ve done—you have done.” 

Your feet move you to the door on shaky legs, hands almost trying to tremble by your sides—clamped down firmly at your sides to stop them. Thinking of Cali, thinking of her.

Graffiti-covered walls; scarlet clinging to matted curls. 

He says your name. Calls it louder than he should—the one he whispers when he’s holding you in place on top of him, the one he groans against your ear when you’re pinned under his weight. 

It’s different hearing it here—with a vulnerable tinge to it, a pleading one. It’s why you don’t stop..

Sunshine yellow, splintered sobs, carmine-stained palms…

You hate yourself—that you let it merge into this, let it develop, twist and mature. 

Leaving before he finished a meeting, heading home and turning out the lights as wine soaked your throat in the dark. It was easier, you lied to yourself—feeling the hole opening up inside of you as you tried to sew yourself closed. 

He doesn’t avoid you, like you try to avoid him. 

Involving you, pulling you in to listen to the wiretap as though you’ll have some added opinion on it—an insight they’ve not thought of. Your argument-not-argument mouldering in the corner, Stoddard blissfully unaware. Either that or he’s become a good actor.

Your silence is telling, not meeting his eyes is a further statement. 

A slither of you mad that instead of admitting he means something, you try and convince yourself it’s the exact opposite. Further worsening it when you allow him to leave, to go—on some inane advice that has been drilling a hole in your chest since the moment he left. 

“Where are you off too?”“Gonna give something a push.”It drops, plummets—your gut. Lands right at your feet in a mess you’re not sure how to clean up. Shuffling the transcripts in your hand, you paint a smile. Having become a professional at it, well-taught, well-practised. “What?”You must give him a look, one which screams volumes because his expression softens. Plus, he’s lingering. Shifting his weight, brows slowly dipping, that same line appearing. —and now he knows we’re…We’re?Having fun.“Do that thing with your tongue…” you say, voice cracking, but you hope you style it. Even if he’s narrowing his eyes as he looks you up and down. Even if it takes all of you to force your lips into a grin. “It would get me to talk.”“You’re—““Wonderful, amazing—brilliant?”“Frustrating.”You hand him a transcript. “Clockwise, then anticlockwise. Have a good afternoon, sir.” 

He’s been back an hour. 

Hiding in the shut-blind room with Stoddard, fighting all temptation to go in there even if you’d been invited. An excuse flows from your tongue before you stop it, dipping your head to drive it home—feeling the hole widen to a crater in your chest.

Choosing to sit in the sidelines—more than you already do—rather than listen to the ways he got the information needed, even if you’re the one who pushed him to begin with. Especially when you’re aware of his past. 

It’s why it grates—peels. Finding yourself standing exposed and fearful, afraid he can see through it all and knows that you care. Something you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let happen. 

You’re so lost in it, your apparent failure—your confused feelings—you don’t notice the shadow over your desk until the mug is placed down in front of you. Barely able to blink, staring at it before looking up at him. Tapping your pen, scrunching your lips as you narrow your gaze. 

“What’s this?” 

“A peace offering.” 

Leaning back, you sigh. “We’re fine, Peña.”

He smirks—knowingly. As though he’s rifled through your mind and found all the evidence attesting how much of a lie that is. 

You’re usually better. Harder to read and less easy to predict, but then, most people hadn’t snapped your underwear from your thigh and pocketed it before they made you come undone on their sofa. 

“Fine, I need a favour.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes. “Here we go.” 

“Do you fancy calling the SLS?” 

Your brows lift, smirking. “I do not.” 

And he knows it too. Which is why he’s standing—smirk present, delicious brown eyes softening just the amount to make him look cute and docile. Like a fucking puppy. 

“You fancy sharing the number?” 

Snorting, you glance down at your papers. “You don’t fancy asking your deputy for that information?” 

Resting his palms on your desk, you still hear him lick his lips and catch the sight of it just as you look up. “Please, cariño.” 

You should torture him. Make him wait. 

For no reason other than to grasp some form of control over the situation. Everything unravelling, things mixing and blending where they shouldn’t be. Emotions which should be firmly out of this, very much in the centre, doubling, tripling—

“Fine,” you groan, grabbing your notebook of numbers and a scrap bit of paper. 

He smirks, almost grinning. “I could kiss you.” 

“I wouldn’t. Had garlic for lunch, and… you’ve likely had your fill for the day. Right?”

“Jealous?” 

Yes. Your face blanks, hiding the answer which hurries its legs to your tongue—the one which has been burrowing a hole in your chest since he’d gone earlier. 

The one, you suspect, is the reason most people are avoiding you today. The very thing which is forcing you to carve the tip of your pen into the paper and almost through the desk. 

Leaning, you tap your pen against the desk. “Only if you did the tongue move on her, Javi.”

“The one you suggested?” 

You snort, handing him the piece of paper as you stand. 

“Is that all, Peña?”

His smile drops, soft at first—just at the edges. And then, all at once. It falls from his eyes, concern weaving into his forehead and brows as you stand, grabbing some files, not even sure which ones, as you begin to straighten them on your desk. 

You should smile, smirk. Laugh it off. But, it’s balling up in your throat—tasting like acid and regret, getting heavier and heavier as it trickles down to your tongue and the back of your teeth. 

“Remember I’m leaving early today,” you announce, more clinical, more formal. “So if you require further help, Neil can help.” 

You almost wince, almost. Able to stop yourself as Stoddard’s first name falls from your tongue. The one you never use. The one which doesn’t suit leaving your lips as you step around your desk. 

And you pray he doesn’t grab you, doesn’t place his palm on your forearm or cup your elbow. You hope he doesn’t lead you to his office, force you to talk until you’re cracked open and wading in feelings you’d rather bury.  

He doesn’t. 

Stepping back as he nods. Firm. Detached. 

Exactly what you want… yet it hurts. It wounds. It nicks tiny cuts into your skin so it stings in the office air and bleeds you slowly.  

Usually, you hate being home. But tonight, it’s lively.

Almost like it once was. It's all bathed in music, laughter and steam. So lost in it, the freeness of normalcy, you don’t expect it to be him when you send Matías to open the door. 

It doesn’t even cross your mind until you hear Matías greeting the male voice, the one your body knows quicker than your mind, feet carrying you to the hallway for his eyes to land on you. 

Eyes that find you over the bare, shirtless shoulders of Matías—the dish in your hand almost toppling as you take a breath, throat dry. Suddenly racking your brain, all lightheaded, wondering if the two of you had made plans that you’d forgotten about. 

“Javi?”

“Hey, I was—I should—”

Matías turns, staring at you. 

Giving you that look, the one you normally are able to shut down but find difficult with the evidence presented in front of you. Aye, you’re not interested in complications, huh? 

All you can do is narrow your eyes. Please, do not make this more uncomfortable. 

He wants to—you can tell. The same look on his face that you used to see on another. One that almost mirrors it, reminding you of game nights and far too much alcohol you still don’t know the name of. Thankfully, he takes pity, not pushing, turning back to speak to Javi directly. 

Your boss.

“Matías…”

He’s not listening. Explaining he’s going—that the two of you are done anyway. His Spanish is so quick, it takes a second for your mind to translate, making it too late to interject. 

Not that you can think—not as Javi’s eyes drag up and down your legs, suddenly very aware of the short-shorts and the amount of thigh on show. How it looks bad. All of it. 

You’re aware of it. 

Even if there’s no reason to worry, this is nothing. A lie you don’t believe but continue to hum to yourself like a tune you can never get out of your head. 

You feel Matías kiss your cheek, soft, hand on your shoulder as he does. “He’s cute. Be good, senorita. You deserve good.” 

His words take a second, the Spanish flowing into your ears as he takes the dish from your hands—the one which has warmed your palms to almost burning. His t-shirt draped over his shoulder, looking far too smug for someone who doesn’t know how to cook anything. 

It’s not until he walks past Javi do you move, do you unfreeze and find your feet can move from their position on your tiled floor. 

Running the back of your hand against your forehead, you sigh. “Hello?”

“Hi.” 

You snort. “Come on in.” 

Even though he’s been here before, it feels different. It’s less sad and pathetic, wine in your glass for a reason not to bury the day but rather energise it. The air is humming with scents, spices and the sound of upbeat music playing from some distant corner. Your lights are on, and low, adding an ambience to your place that could be seen as odd for two friends who have been merely laughing and cooking. 

You spot him taking it all in, eyes dragging across walls, ornaments and photo frames he clearly didn’t take in last time. A smile threatens to spill out until he lands on the half-full wine glass and the very much empty one.

You move, heading into the small kitchen, moving things, tidying. A need to keep busy as you throw a cloth over your shoulder. 

“So—” 

“He’s my neighbour, Javi.” 

He relaxes—you hear it. From the soft exhale through his nose to his muscles practically untightening from his bones.. A part of you sighs in relief that he believes your truth. The jealousy falls from the air as though it was never there, to begin with.  Javi points at the sink. “You want a hand?”

It’s the way he looks at you that undoes you. His eyes are all soft again, so genuine. No ulterior motive currently. Not here to talk about work or have any discussion to do with drugs, money laundering or death. 

Smiling, you shift your weight on your legs. “You any good?” 

“I do alright.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He laughs, and it shouldn’t be the sweetest sound—but it is. Especially like this, lighter, more heart filled. “My mama raised me well, bonita. I know how to take care of a home—grew up on a ranch, actually.” 

“You’re a rancher, huh?” 

He smiles broader as you lean against the counter, blocking the sink. 

“Damn straight.” 

“Not your current profession, though, is it? Because I know that’s currently being a pain in my ass.” 

He nudges you, stepping around you as he dips a finger into the water to check its temperature, splashing your skin with parts of it as he gets close. “I can be a pain in your ass, cariño. Just say the word.” 

You smirk, grabbing a towel trying not to watch as he rolls his sleeves up, your throat drying again—but for completely different reasons. “You wash, I’ll dry.”

Nodding, he mumbled a quick, “You got it,” one quickly buried under a held-back laugh that slowly leaves your lips. It partially merges with a breath, the rest falling into the air, settling. 

The first dish handed to you, taking it from him with far too much ease, as though this is normal. As if him being here is normal. 

It feels it as the drums fade into piano keys. As you take a bowl this time, drying it until you place it down, another laugh emerges in your throat that greets the air. 

“What?”

Shaking your head, you take the next plate from him, glancing at the bubbles which slide down the porcelain surface. “Javi Peña is washing my dishes. And it’s not even a euphemism.” 

He has a beautiful smile. One you’re sure by now you count paint with your fingers if you were any sort of artist. You’d thought it was nice the moment he first let you see it. But, you find it's his smirk that does the most damage to you—undoes something in you. 

He searches for the next dish in the steaming water, bubbles sliding around his wrists and forearms, hairs clinging to his skin as you try not to let your ears burn as he keeps glancing at you, noting the implication—the realisation. 

“I can bet my entire next paycheck that you’ve done a lot of things in women’s kitchens, but not done the dishes.” 

His eyes glint under the lights, holding your gaze as you feel your bare cheeks warm under them. You know that look, it’s the undoing of all your sensibility. It quiets the voice that says the two of you should stop, not needing to create more mess, more complication. 

One you usually banish away with your lips. 

“I like my kitchen sanitary,” you comment, nudging him. “Eyes on the dishes, Peña.”

“So, the neighbour?”

“A friend of a friend—who lives across the street. So, partial-neighbour.” He nods, but you know that’s not what he wants to know. Can tell, slowly finding him so easy to read. “And he’s surprising his boyfriend with a cooked meal—I offered my kitchen.”

Javi smiles, brushing the sponge over a plate. “You do cooking lessons then?” 

“No. But, he looked out for my place, when I was…” Your eyes drop to the glass in your hand. “He’s a good guy, and it gave me something to do other than fucking my boss.”

“Sounds like a professional boss.” 

“Got a great moustache, though.” 

The two of you not saying anything more until you're done. Occasional glances, tension thrumming, vibrating. Some threads of it want to abandon washing and kiss him; other threads want to ask him why he's here.

The thought recurring as you eventually hand him a drink, watching him sit down on your sofa, as you join him. Purposefully sitting a seat away from him. 

You’d chosen something less uptempo, more gentle as the air fills with piano keys and soft lulling voices. It follows the same ambience as the lighting. A perfect match—a solid blend. The room bathed in warm yellow and pretty gold, his red shirt standing out, but he’d stand out all the same. 

Even if it feels normal—usual. 

Javi always shines a little bit brighter in your eyes. 

Each gesture, each expression always noted—your eyes struggling to break from him. It’s why you notice his fingers gesturing for your legs, studying you as you smirk and throw them up, drinking from your glass of red as berries stain your lips. 

All you can think about is him tasting them—sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip until your spine is pressed into the cushions of your sofa. You’d not ruined your sofa with him, hadn’t had him between your thighs here. 

From his quietness, he’s thinking something too. 

Something which makes him drag his eyes up and down your legs, makes his hand go from drawing a shape to sliding the tips of them up and down your calf. 

“You think loudly, you know that?”

He laughs, and it’s beautiful. Nothing held back, letting it flow from his throat to your ears. 

“First time I’ve been told I think, cariño.”

It’s easy to smile around him. He halts the thoughts which run so free and wild in your head, only somewhat deafened when he’s not. 

“You need to talk about work or…” 

He snorts, taking a long sip. “Talking about anything would be good for me, cariño.” 

You feel guilty for it. How you use him—even if you’re sure he’s been using you too. Both running from something, both trying to dull whatever it is living on both your shoulders. Although, you weren’t sure if it was the same now. 

Foolishly, you had ruined it, tampered with it in his office. Changed things. Began pulling on the thread until you toppled it all over days ago. Now you worry he’ll want more than you can give him. Need more from you than you have spare to share with him. Not at all sure how you allowed emotions to slip through the net. How things having gone from simple fucking to wanting to have your legs over his lap—to him washing dishes and drinking whiskey in your glass. Whiskey you bought for him, even if he never really came here. 

A just-in-case purchase. 

“Okay… you tell me one thing, and then I tell you one thing.” 

You think of Van Ness, of the many ways he had tried to get information out of you as you lay vertically in bed, unwilling to sleep and refusing to eat. A game he presented, frustration stitched into his forehead, but a determination fermenting in his bones. 

Dragging his tongue over his bottom lip, he nods, half-smiling. “Alright.” The tip of his fingernail tapping against your lower leg. “I’ll bite.”

Swirling your glass, you eye him over it. Thinking.

Trying to unpick why it’s normal, why it doesn’t feel odd that he didn’t call, that he just showed up and fits in all so well. The answer there, hanging in the corner—the evidence hammering against the walls you force yourself to throw up. 

You know why; you know how.

“Tell me something you’re ashamed of, that I wouldn’t already know.”

He sniggers, looking down, staring at the melting ice cubes in his glass. “But, you already know so much about me and my past mistakes.”

“Yeah, well,” you add. “You’re a fascinating read.” 

From the way he’s not lifted his chin, there’s something.

One big thing he’s thought up instantly. One that makes his broad shoulders tense and his jaw tighten. A secret, a regret, that likely comes out when he’s stuck in traffic—which has kept him up at night. A thing which makes him as reserved as you. 

“I almost got married once.”

“Yeah?”

“Left her… I left her at the altar.” 

You look at him, not moving your leg from over his lap, continuing to sip the wine. Not wanting to move, not wanting him to stop—

“Saw her. Before coming out here. Made me glad I did it, y’know? She’s happy—got a husband, kids.” 

His fingers strum against your leg. 

Clearing your throat, you place your glass down on your thigh. “You should be glad you didn’t marry her because you clearly didn’t want to.” 

“That too.” 

You add nothing more. Silence wrapping its heavy hands around you both as he begins to lightly tap quicker against your leg, taking the smallest of sips, waiting for you.  

“If I were her, I’d be embarrassed, but grateful.” He lifts his chin, staring at you from the side as you tilt your head to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t want someone to marry me because of obligation—I’d want them to choose me because they wanted me.”

His lips twitch, likely turning over your words, really considering them before nodding. It’s quick. Enough to make a piece of hair he’s been playing with fall over his forehead.  

Then, he relaxes, shoulders meeting the back of your sofa as he slides his fingers in softer, slower circles on your leg. 

“Your turn.” 

Smiling, you lean back into your cushion. “What do you wanna know?”

It dances in his eyes: Everything. 

Likely wishes to crack you open and see all of it. All the things not in his piss-poor file and the things not whispered around the office. 

Probably what happened in Cali and why you have resigned yourself to a desk. Why you entered his office that first day, why you’re— 

“Why’d you and Fiestl end things?” 

“That’s what you want to know?” 

Javi shifts his hips under your legs, licking his bottom lip. “I don’t want to ask something that you’re not willing to share. Want you to trust me.” 

You chew that, whatever words you had been rearing and desperate to say wilting away. Instead, you place your glass down on your coffee table. Clearing your hands. 

“Wasted question, but okay. I think, if we were honest with one another, we weren’t happy before I left for Cali. We’d… argued quite a bit. Even moved some of my things back.”

Swallowing, you stare off a little. Finding the scuff on one of the stools against the kitchen side. The one which had gotten caught on your bag one day, having flung to the floor and been scuffed against the kitchen tile. 

A reminder—a slither of something to show it was all real, and not make-believe. 

“Sometimes things heal when you leave them alone. Sometimes they worsen—the crack deepens,” you continue. “Ours was the latter. It’s hard when you’re competing—when you’re all trying to stand out—to get the good jobs. Cali to him meant more, but it was me who was sent. So…” 

You’re aware of his hand stroking up and over your knee. Waiting, letting the pieces of your story knit together like a puzzle he’ll unravel later. One you used to try and figure out, nights bleeding into day and still never close to solving. 

Further shattering when Cali took any chance of salvation. 

“You also don’t…really come back the same. Do you?” 

He waits for a beat, one which makes it feel all that much worse. “No.” 

You let out a shaky breath, reaching back for your glass, draining it. Removing your legs from him, considering curling them up under you as you try to smile.

It’s too much—him, being this close. 

Knowing if he looks hard enough, he’ll see all the imperfections covered so well with nice clothing and a hard stare; he’ll see the parts of you that have healed wrong, and the wounds which are still open. 

Yet, you want him closer. 

A part of you—the one without sense and any semblance of worry. The part which calls to him, that worries for him, that has begun to care more than you should ever have done. 

It’s why you take his glass before moving over him, leg on either side of his thighs, staring down into his eyes and allowing him the chance to stare into yours. 

They’re always soft, and warm—sometimes with a darkness that you hope sweeps over you, sometimes full of sparkles and lust. Other times, they’re wired with energy, almost vibrant as his mind turns and his brain concocts. 

It’s why he’s a good agent. Why he thinks ahead, why you know he’s not going to stop. 

You trace up his neck with your index finger, finding yourself being studied all over again.

“Why’d you come round, Javi?” 

Your lips are so close to his, the scent of whiskey mixing with the spices from the food you’d been cooking earlier, hanging all heavy in the air around you both. 

Slowly, he places his hands on your hips. “Think it’s my turn to ask a question, cariño.”

But, you don’t say anything. 

Watching him, sliding two fingers along his jaw, holding his gaze, watching his resolve screw up like a piece of paper. 

“I wanted you to know that I didn’t sleep with her. Didn’t take your advice about my tongue.”

You don’t move, fingers halting on his cheek. 

A thread strummed inside of you, forcing your lips to slide into a smile and your eyes to hold his. 

“That’s an odd thing to tell your secretary.” 

“You’re not my secretary.” 

You grin, and you can tell he wants to kiss it. About the same amount as you want to press your mouth to his and your body against his until you only hear your name. The one he says so often. 

“Are you trying to tell me I’m the only one, Peña? Is that it?”

Flicking your eyes over him, he slowly licks his lips. Your hips are desperate to roll, your body needing friction as he flicks his eyes from your mouth to your eyes, before placing his palms on your thighs. 

They’re warm. Soft. Slowly and torturously fanning each finger out over the skin as you lightly inhale—loud enough for him to hear. 

“Maybe I am.” 

It’s thick, the tension. Both of you are waiting, staring, unsure who’ll snap first. 

So he adds, “I’m not sleeping with anyone else, cariño.”

He watches you, and how his words land. See something flicker in his eyes, something pleading—something you want to answer but find the words can’t come. 

It’s just you, too. 

You will them. Almost want to shout them, but instead, you offer, “Kiss me.” 

“You sure?” 

Your eyes close, sliding your palms up his cheeks. “How long till your flight?”

“Few hours.” 

Opening your eyes, you burn the words into him. It’s just you, I hate it, but it’s you and only you. “Please kiss me, Javi.” 

And he does. 

chapter seven ->

[f1amboyant]

Hi darling i'm here again to ask for the kiss prompts💗 i hope you don't get sick of me cause i have a feeling you're gonna be seeing me more often hahaha❤️❤️

"I really, really want to kiss you" + kissing in the rain & hand in your lover's hair for charlos😘

I have so many ideas running in my head for these prompts but can't find the right words to write a good fic so here I am asking one of my fave authors🤍🤍🤍

Hello, darling!

I'm not sick of your prompts, don't worry 🥰

I'm not sure this is what you had in mind with this one, but I hope you like it (I had so much fun writing this little fic).

Enjoy!

Read it on AO3!

.

The demons crawled all around them, hideous creatures coming out from the shadows with too many legs and too many teeth. Ugly as ever, they growled, spitting poisonous ichor through their too big mouths.

Carlos barely flinched, nocking an arrow to his bow and aiming for the demons. He felt a firm presence at his back, as Charles took his place behind him.

He felt it in his veins.

In his heart.

In his rune.

In his soul.

Parabatai.

“Ready?” Carlos asked.

“I am more than ready, Carlos,” Charles immediately answered, taking out his seraph blade, the Adamas glinting in the night.

Carlos could feel his excitement, the thrum in his veins, the same rhythm in their hearts. One, two, three breaths, in perfect synchronicity. They didn’t need a signal to attack simultaneously. Charles jumped and Carlos let his arrow fly.

They fought as one.

Parabatai.

They prevailed as one.

Parabatai.

Carlos didn’t have the words to express how much he loved it, how much he could lose himself in Charles, only Charles, moving in harmony together. Truth be told, even if he had the words, he wouldn’t have said them aloud. What he felt was not something he should have felt for his parabatai. But how could he resist it? It was Charles.

Distracted by the turn of his thoughts, he glanced back at his partner, watching him, just for a second, as he twirled around angry sword in hand, slashing through demon after demon. Beautiful. Vengeful angel. Carlos’.

He was his.

(But also, he was not, and that was the problem.)

The demon caught him by surprise, charging toward him and flinging him against the nearest wall. His back collided with the concrete, punching the breath out of him and a cry of pain.

“Carlos!”

Carlos felt the twinge of worry from Charles in his own heart, as his parabatai charged the remaining demons with a newfound strength, exterminating them in less than two seconds. He was beautiful. Magnificent. A true Shadowhunter, in his purest form. Carlos was nothing compared to him.

(And he felt the unspeakable for him.)

Demons eliminated, Charles crouched next to Carlos, immediately taking out his stele.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

He patted Carlos’ body, on his thigh, his torso, the side of his neck and even his jaw, stroking lightly on his cheekbone with a thumb. Carlos shivered. And it had nothing to do with the bruises on his back or the ankle he might have twisted on the impact.

“It’s nothing,” he said in a raspy voice.

But Charles didn’t listen. Eyes hyper focused, he lifted the hem of Carlos’ shirt with one hand, splaying his whole palm on Carlos’ hipbone, and yielding the stele with his other hand, drawing the pattern of the Iratze on Carlos’ skin. The healing power washed over him immediately. But the heat on his cheeks belonged to Charles alone and the fingers grazing the skin of his lower abdomen in the most tantalizing way.

That rune placement would truly be the death of him. He thought himself so clever when he drew it there, imagining how many times Charles would have to admire his abs as he activated the Mark. The only thing that happened was the too tantalizing touch of Charles’ hands on his body, every fucking time, so close to where he truly desired him.

It elicited very forbidden feelings in him.

Carlos bit his lip, trying to keep the small moan from escaping his mouth. Lucky for him, Charles didn’t seem to notice. Or he didn’t say anything. He looked up proudly at Carlos, beautiful eyes glinting.

“See,” he said with a confident smile (though his heart, Carlos could feel it, was heavy with something else). “You need me. You shouldn’t leave.”

He tried to wink (and failed) and Carlos fell in love even more than before.

Which was exactly why he had to leave.

“You’re not changing my mind,” he mumbled, finally getting up and shouldering past Charles before he could do something stupid.

Like saying he would stay.

Or like kissing his parabatai.

(Because he really wanted to.)

“Let’s go home.”

A home that wouldn’t be a home soon and Carlos already felt his heart breaking at the prospect. But it was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? His feelings for Charles were becoming more and more present. No matter how hard he tried, he could never suppress them. And expressing them? Impossible. What other choice did he have? He had to flee.

For Charles, he had to leave.

He couldn’t condemn him.

They walked home mostly in silence, speeding up their pace when rain started to drizzle lightly over their heads, and then heavier and heavier. It was properly downpouring when they got to the Institute but Charles stopped them before they could reach the wards. Pulling Carlos by the elbow, he dragged him between a few trees, hiding them from spying eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Charles crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why are you leaving?” he asked, no bullshit, staring straight at Carlos, peering into his soul.

Carlos mimicked him and crossed his arms too. Defensive.

“Come on, Charles. It’s raining, let’s go inside.”

He tried to move but Charles grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into place.

“No,” he snarled, visibly angry (and Carlos could feel the heat boiling into his heart and his stomach, the emotions pouring from his parabatai). “Not before you tell me what’s going on, Carlos. We’re parabatai. Together or nothing, that’s what you always say. And suddenly you want to leave? I need to know why.”

“Charles…”

Carlos took a step forward, but Charles just planted a fist into his chest. Right over his parabatai rune.

“What’s so great about the Barcelona Institute?” Charles asked, almost pleading. The emotion tore from his throat and right through Carlos’ heart. Unbearable. “We’ve been here for years, we have everything we dreamt about.”

Carlos gulped down, thickly.

“I just have to leave.”

“Why?”

This time, Charles was the one to step closer, putting them so close Carlos could count the wet lashes on Charles’ eyes. The rain hadn’t stopped, but Charles wouldn’t budge before he got an answer. Something Carlos couldn’t give him.

His lips shone with rain, prettier than ever.

“Why do you have to leave?” Charles asked again. “If you want a change of scenery, I’ll come with you.”

“I need some distance.”

Carlos’ heart was beating so fast and so loud he could barely hear himself.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

After all these years, there was no way Charles didn’t know. Their hearts beat as one, after all. How could he have missed the fact that Carlos’ heart beat a new tempo, that he longed for more? So much more. Something that he could never have. And it was killing him (killing them both).

His eyes racked over Charles’ features, the sweet curl of wet hair mated to his forehead, his straight nose and high cheekbones, the piercing eyes that changed color with time and now looked stormy and dangerous and desperate. Carlos’ eyes dropped to Charles’ lips, pink and kissable.

Fuck! He almost made a move to kiss him. This. This was why he had to leave.

“You know why,” he insisted, voice going rough.

“No, I don’t,” Charles pleaded, angry and hurt. “Tell me why my parabatai, my forever, wants to leave me.”

And really. What could Carlos say but the truth?

“Because I really really want to kiss you.”

That finally shut Charles up. Finally, Carlos thought. Finally, Charles would know the full truth and reject him. It would be painful for both of them, and that was exactly what he wanted to avoid by getting away. But at least now, Charles would understand and would let him go without a fuss. Carlos only hoped the bond they forged as parabatai, not the one inked in their skin by a rune, but the one that naturally bloomed between them, would be strong enough that Charles would understand without reporting him to the Clave.

But Charles didn’t push him away (or punch him like Carlos could have thought). Instead, the fist on his chest unfurled and a warm palm spread over his pec (over his heart).

“Then what are you waiting for?” Charles whispered.

“To leave?” Carlos left out a humorless laugh. “My bag is already packed. I’m just waiting for my clearance and I’ll be out of your way, Charles. I promise…”

“Shut up.”

Charles’ hand suddenly moved, faster than when he fought demons, and went to the back of Carlos’ head, threading his fingers through thick black hair. Carlos felt the tantalizing sting to his scalp.

“I meant,” Charles said, panting, pulling Carlos closer, so close their noses almost touched. His blue-green eyes seemed wild, his hair completely drenched. “What are you waiting for to kiss me?”

Carlos’ heart leaped to his throat. This couldn’t be… No. Impossible. Charles couldn’t possibly mean it. And yet he felt the phantom of his parabatai’s heart against his own. And there was no doubt, no repulsion, no fear.

Just.

Love.

“Kiss me,” Charles said.

And so Carlos followed the pull of Charles’ hand, the pull of his heart, the pull of their bond drawing them ever closer, and he kissed him. Under the heavy rain, their runes ignited.

.

-> Masterlist

[regularme12]

Terrick tickles

A/N: I'm making this bc the last episode hurt me sm, and I can't see them NOT getting tgt😫. Sry if some of the words are misspelled, I have acrylics on and it's hard to type with 😭.

Summary: Trevor and Derrick finally gets some alone time from the other campers, and Crystal. So what better way to spend it with some good ol' bonding.

Trevor and Derrick both sat in the tent awkwardly, nothing to say, nothing to do, totally bored out of their fucking mind. But the silence was soon broken when Trevor spoke, but then cut off by Derrick.

"So-" Trevor.

"Any-" Derrick.

They both looked at each other, than laughed awkwardly. "Hahah, sry, u can go, Trev."

"Hahaha, so anyways, what do u wanna do? Now that Crystal is hosting another game." This couldn't get any more weirder Trevor was thinking. He loves Derrick so fucking much, he j wants to lean in and kiss them soft... delicate... lips- WAIT! What was he even thinking?! Derrick's probably not even into him, let alone gay! But still, that's all he was thinking about...

"Idrk, man. Wish Crystal was here, then we'd have a blast, huh?" Derrick thought out loud. But that only made Trevor sad that his lover don't even think he was fun at all, just a stick in the mud.

"Oh, u really want her here, I assume."

Derrick looked at the taller one with confusion written all over his face. "He seems sad abt that." the shorter one thought. Then he looked down to Trev's clothes, and saw a thread hanging from his everyday wear. Then he decided to pull up, but he pinched so close to his side that it made Trevor jump and swing to the other side. "Woah, what was that?!" And it was clear that the latter looked super embarrassed, his face was tomato red, and his eyes would pop out any second.

"It-It was nothing."

Ans wiyh the cherry on top, Derrick had a sly smirk and he kept invhing forward. "Is someone..."

"No! Don't come any closer Derrick, I'm warning u..."

He kept going, "...ticklish?" Then that's when he struck. He jumped on his friend, pinning him down, kneading the latter's hips.

"Gajahhah, Derrick, nohohoho!!!" He kept writjering away, to no avail.

"Awww, is the lil Trevor tickwish on his hips???"

"Dohohohn't talk in that vohohohoice, Derrick!! Ahahahah!!!"

Trevor then moved on to his ribs, digging his thumbs in and moving them around. "Come on Trevor, don't tell me teasing gets you all riled up."

"Ihihit DohohoEsN'T!! Ihihi just, Ihihihi DON'T KNOW!! DERRICK NOT THEHEHEHEERRE!!" He started arching his back and falling on the ground.

"Wowww, your armpits are heavily ticklish, huh? You want me to stay here? Or go somehwere else?~" Derrick is circling the outside of his armpits, keeping him in suspense while he was thinking of the answer.

"Gohoho somewhere elehehehse, please..." Trev started fidigting with his fingers, while lightly giggling.

Derrick started staring at his lee's teary eyes, red cheeks, and his sweaty face. No way he's getting turned on... is he?

His trance was broken when Trevor spoke up, "Uh, Derrick?" Trev's eyes were halfway open, and halfway shut. He was kinda squinting, but not really.

"Oh. Sorry, here let me go... to this spot. Your belly button." He lightly traced his finger nail down the sweaty body and dug into his navel.

"AH!! Deheheherrrick!! Gahahahah!!" Trevor wiggled side to side, but made no effort to acctually stop.

"Wow, you're enjoying yourself aren't ya?" Derrick lightly circled inside his innie, waiting for a response.

"Whahat?! Nohoho way!!" But it was clear that that was a lie.

"What do you mean, no way? I let your arms go free, and u haven't made a move to push my arms away, nor were you telling me to stop. I'm no genius, but even I can tell you like this."

"Ihihihi do not lihihihike it!!" But still, all he did was wriggled side to side with his hands inclosing the other's wrists.

"Awww, come on you like it when I circle your belly button, or draw teasy patterns on your ticklish tummy, or claw the inside of your hollow armpits, or..."

"DAMN IT!! Juhuhust stop, Dehehehrrick!!"

"Stop what, the tickling or the teasing?" Derrick knows Trevor would pick the teasing, but still, the lee had other plans in mind. Not good ones, but he definitely said them.

"Fuhuhuck you, Derrick."

"I don't think you're in a position to be snarky, remember who's under who." And with that, Derrick brought his hands down to the latter's inner thighs, and needed them.

"GAH!! *Squeak* NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!! NOHOHOT FUHUHUCKING THERE, DEHEHEHRRICK!!" Now it's becoming real. Trevor started hiccuping, squeaking, and screaming. Then he brought his free hands and kneaded Derrick's hips. Derrick yelped and jumped.

"GAH! Dohohon't fucking tickle me you jerk!" The ler grabbed the lee's hands and sat on them. Trevor might be the taller one, but Derrick wins with the strength. "Don't expect me to go lightly on you now, this is war."

Trevor finally got himself in some deeper shit then before. He was having a hard time now, but when Derrick said that? Oh, he is praying for his down fall right now. "Wait, Wait, wait, Derrick please!!! I'm sorry all right? It's just... my thighs are my absolute worse, I can't control myself, and me tickling you was a fight or flight response. I mean no harm, honest!! And it's not like I done wjat you're doing right now!! This is way worse!! It's Torture!!"

"Wow, Trevor. Hahaha, you said everything and nothing at the same time. If this is torture like you said, then you shoulda told me to stop from the get go. So be prepared for the worse has yet to come!!" Then it did, he clawed his inner thighs so hard the lee was crying and screaming. How no one came to check up on them, was a mystery.

"*Long pause* OK! OHOHOKAY!! DEHEHEHERRICK I'M SOJOHOJORRY!!! JUHUHUST PLEASE STHOHOHOP!! I CAN'T TAHAHAHKE NO MORE!!!" There was the word Derrick wanted to hear.

He stopped tickling him, and moved lower down where he was sitting on Trevor's thighs. Trevor layed there breathlessly, Derrick, on the other hand, brought his hand up to wipe away his tears. Trevor flinched then relaxed after he found out what his crush was doing. "Easy buddy, it's ok, I'm sorry I went over board."

Trevor took a moment of silence, waited flr his breathing to go back to normal, then he sat up. They locked eyes, it was silent. The only thing they can hear is the sound of people arguing and fighting. Yep, it was another challenge, guess they gotta go and help, right? But then, all of a sudden, Derrick leaned in, and closed his eyes, while Trevor did the same. It was a passionate one, and a dreamy one at that. Crystal walked in to see what's taking them so long, but she was stopped in her tracks after finding this display. "Well, guess I gotta go do this one on my own then." She thought, walked away, and smiled.

Secrets aren't meant to be shared, so she didn't tell anyone what happened, not even the love birds themselves.

[an-au-blog]

Thinking about Shuggy college au and got to thinking about the relative ages of other characters and now I’m thinking of end of High school aged Frobin. Robin is that loner goth girl turned popular goth girl that is still seen as a bit odd but she’s smart and helpful and has a slightly morbid sense of humor that just endears her to her classmates. Franky is that loud jock who comes to school in way too short shorts even when the weather doesn’t permit for it. You’d think he’s a huge dumbass from the way he acts sometimes but he actually knows a lot of stuff and gets decent grades and is pretty nifty with machines (Also sometimes babysitting his kid neighbor Usopp and teaching him how to not hit his thumb with a hammer). Both of them having this kind of „end of a slow burn“ relationship where Franky is trying to gather his nerves and tell his long term friend that he has feelings for her and it’s completely fine if she doesn’t, but also she’s going to move to college after the end of this school year and he’s afraid about what that means for them and not to mention he’s „smart“ but Robin is like „SMART smart“ and is going to study history and oh GOD what if this is the thing that makes them loose contact and Oh god, oh no, oh fuck.

… probably ends with her just spontaneously taking his hand and asking HIM out, completely oblivious that he has been fretting over this for almost an entire school year. Just felt like the right thing to do to her. A decision she made right that moment.

I... I never really calculated her years in the college au and at first I thought, pft, she won't be that old but then... like she IS around 10/11 years older than Luffy and assuming he's around 5/6 she'd be in her last years of school omg D:' I'm supposed to be good at math how did I not see this???

Also you have no idea how happy I am, this is my first frobin ask I was so happy when I saw it and then my happiness doubled because it's the college au hahaha :')

If I haven't given you a name, can I call you Franon? Or Fronan?? (haha cuz frobin + anon...)

(Edit: by the time I was halfway through writing this post, I realized I've written an entire subplot lol':))

Robin is definitely that weird kid in school that's a bit too smart for her own good and most teachers just think she's a smartass. The type that even though she moved schools and now she's pretty (and still a bit weird, just hides it better), she still has the outcast mentality. She doesn't know how to be herself and she definitely doesn't know what to do, react or even comprehend that someone wants to be friends with her. Let alone to be interested in her romantically.

Franky on the other hand is so outgoing because he's so weird. People will see him in a blizzard in his short shorts and sunglasses and go "how the heck are you not cold". He'd respond with "oh, I'm freezing! I have a parka and two cotton shirts under there!" and people would laugh along. The type to high-five and greet random people he's talked to once as if they've been friends for ages. I feel like he'd also kinda be the class clown but in a somewhat respectful way. There's a meme about someone calling Prometheus a mad lad and then Hermes a Chad, and I feel like that would be his vibe.

Also, I'm sorry Fronan/Franon, but I'm absolutely stealing the idea that Franky babysits Usopp and they have fun arts and crafts type of bonding. He'll need it for the stuff I've been planning for him and Yasopp >:]]]

Everyone assumes he's a moron, but it's until Robin sees him in one of his extracurricular advanced classes that she realizes he's not only smart but funny and fun to be around. It turns out that they also have a lot in common and quickly become friends.

Also him overthinking it and her asking him out is so on brand imo and I absolutely love it. And maybe here comes into play the fact that he's so friendly with everyone so he automatically assumes people like him so he doesn't know what signs for romantic feelings look like? And how she doesn't think anyone could like her in that way? I can imagine him trying to talk himself out of it because she's going places and what could he give her to make her be with him anyway. While she's sitting next to him already planning a schedule for their talks for their long distance relationship.

And of course, their long distance relationship works very well. They both love each other so much they try their best to have at least two or three nights to talk. In fact, their relationship has a very strong foundation of getting to know each other because of the physical separation.

Or so I'd like to think hehe :')