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atrwriting · 6 months

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kisses and other sweet things (part 2) -- billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

hey party people :) posting this when I should be studying HAHA

send good vibes for my civil procedure final tomorrow many thx <3

I watched the scene where billy and ollinger fight and this very much inspired it lol enjoy

as always, warnings: smuuuut, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), dom!billy, brat!reader, violence, blood, pussy slapping, overstimulation

thank you all for reading!!! I love you all so much!!!!

ANYWAYS... part two:

neither one of you told… but it didn’t take long for the others to sniff the air and have an inkling for how the wind changed overnight.

in all honesty, it was billy’s fault.

the man found every way to remain close enough to be considered by your side since that night.

he would sit by you at dinner. he wouldn’t touch another woman. he always looked at you when he told a joke. he always looked at you when someone else said something funny. that joyful twinkle in his eye was reserved for you, and only you, and everyone had picked up on it. not to mention — he’d not only check his horse — but yours as well.

everyone knew what was up. everyone. absolutely everyone.

billy made it abundantly clear without even uttering a word that you two had participated in something similar to carnal relationship.

…but, in all honesty, you didn’t mind.

you would’ve preferred to talk about it, sure. what prevented you from bringing that up to billy was that you didn’t have to pry respect and loyalty out of him — the man just did it, and because he wanted to. it was… okay, fuck it — you have to admit it to yourself: it was nice. billy the kid showing you slightly more than common decency and general enjoyment of your company was nice. you were worried about bringing it up to him at the idea of losing the potential staple of someone having your back, and them trusting you enough to have theirs.

you were fucked. totally fucked. absolutely fucked. no way around it.

the man was a mysterious fuck, as well — looked at you like you were an angel, but has fucked you like even the devil would avert its eyes from the debauchery. respected in the streets, and disrespected in the sheets — every woman’s dreams.

the one unfortunate aspect was… the others. you can usually ignore everyone, and anything — only way to get through life. however, the severity of the teasing had begun to worry you.

it first began with a curt up-down look of when billy always found his way to dismount from his horse and walk next to you. it wasn’t like he was guarding you, no… neither was he following you like a puppy. it was like there was a new form of respect there — and given the fact that most of the men still looked at you like you were just a silly girl, they noticed it. for a split second, in your stupid mind, you thought it would maybe make the rest of the men treat you better — but how could you ever think that? you rolled with these guys because their very existence was about disrespect and taking for themselves.

billy had made you bot outsiders — more than you already were.

like… maybe you weren’t together… but you had each other. you weren’t sure if you could count on him yet — but his actions were… well, they confused you. and you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad confusion yet.

there had been very few moments of privacy, so you were not able to catch him alone and speak about what happened. at first, you figured you both would go about your lives as usual… not wanting to expect too much from a man who appeared to live as he wanted when he wanted to. however… you didn’t expect that how he wanted to live his life was, well — apparently by your side.

unfortunately, thinking things over was not a freedom given to you without obstacles. many of them began giving you and him looks — and then the teasing started. instead of being known by name or a nickname, the men could be heard calling you “billy’s girl” in hushed tones.

you feared the day they finally bucked up the jewels and called you his whore. you knew it was coming — you didn't want it to happen, but you knew it was. you couldn't afford to be naive.

if anyone else called you his girl — you might’ve blushed. you almost relished in it. however, when men who barely respected women called you that and you both worked with them — you knew they didn’t mean it fondly. it annoyed you, especially when you hadn’t been able to even talk about it with billy.

were you his girl? were you a fling? would billy fuck another woman if given the chance? and honestly, did he tell anyone?

questions ran through your head with very few conclusions approaching. you thought their teasing would be the worst of the worst — until it wasn’t.

no… the worst was when billy had fought one of them.

a few days after the teasing had begun to get bad, you had finally stopped at another boarding house and bar with the other boys. you figured you would retire early and let them have their fun — but that would not be the case.

when you eventually had drank your share of booze and went upstairs when the girls came around, that was when ollinger had opened his big, fat mouth.

“when billy’s done, can i get a turn?”

you froze in your tracks.

this was your worst fear — losing their respect. you had worked tirelessly to earn it, and there had been times where you felt like you never did. you may never have had their actually respect, the kind they give to men — but they never did something like that. and when all of them laughed, and began to hoot and holler — that’s when you knew where you stood with them.

fucking billy.

but that wouldn't stop you, no. they brought you on because you were a pretty thing with claws — and that's what they were going to get.

“known you longer than i’ve known him. can’t say you’ve ever peaked my interest,” you spat as you turned around to face him from a few feet away. “don’t know if you’re man enough.”

he stood then, eyes wild. he held the neck of a bottle in one hand and immediately took a swig, appearing to ignite the fire in his eyes and the aggression in his steps toward you.

“you want me to show you a real man, sweetheart?”

you took a step forward, afraid to back down. you narrowed your eyes at him. “you want me to show you how i’m a better shot than you, sweetheart?”

he stepped closer to you then. you didn’t budge — you weren’t sure if that was out of pride or fear. when he stepped closer, the stench of liquor leaked from his mouth like smoke from a wildfire. a smirk was plastered on his face, and staying still and silent was the only thing you could do to hold your ground.

“you know what that makes you, right?” he spat in a low tone. “makes you billy’s whore.”

you couldn't help it — your face twisted with shame and anger. your vision was going almost as red as ollinger's, and you weren't sure if both of you would survive the next action that came from you. before you could process the impact of his words, let alone respond — billy spoke up.

“shut your mouth, ollinger.”

your eyes flickered over to where billy stood with his hands balled at his sides.

ollinger took another swig of his bottle before he turned and stalked over to billy. billy didn’t flinch, but simply watched a drunk ollinger try to keep his cool. the entire group watched — and waited.

“you don’t tell me what to do, boy,” ollinger sneered, clutching his bottle. “you ain’t special. i ain’t never seen anything special about you.”

billy reached for his gun, but did not pull it out. billy’s hands were shaky, and that’s when you realized it — he was drunk too. “alright then — let’s fight it out.”

“i ain’t fightin’ you with a gun.” ollinger brushed off billy’s comment with another careless swig of his drink. “you ain’t that important.”

“then let’s fight with our fuckin’ fists.” billy discarded his gun and the belt it was usually kept in. “like men.”

ollinger’s eyes showed a peak of interest.

your eyes… well, they showed terror.

ollinger walked towards billy with a dip of his chin that suggested he would enjoy the aspect of hurting billy more than winning anything over billy. ollinger already thought he was better than billy, he didn’t need to win anything — but that look in his eye? when predator was threatened by another?

without his gun, you were worried for billy. frankly, billy should’ve shown it — or at least you thought he would. ollinger had at least a decade of years, strength, and experience on billy. not to mention — ollinger has also had a vendetta against billy since they met.

ollinger immediately threw of his belt. “i’ll beat your ass any day.”

as ollinger drained the rest of the bottle, you could hear the hollering of the other men around you as they drew closer. ollinger threw the bottle to the ground and stalked towards billy.

as billy was about to start pulling off his vest, you stepped up to intervene.

you’d at least like to talk to him before he died.

however, jesse stepped in front of you. “can’t get in the way of two men fighting, doll.”

you raised your eyebrow at jesse. “ill cut your cock off.”

jesse only laughed, but kept his arm outstretched in front of you.

with years of experience… you thought ollinger would fight fair — but he caught billy with a jab before billy could get his vest off. you lunged for the pair, but jesse and some of the others held you back.

you didn’t know what to do. sure, you believed in billy — but the man had a tendency of getting his shit rocked in hand to hand combat.

ollinger let out an excited battle cry — and your hate sank into your stomach. billy struggled to get up as you fought against jesse.

“come on, billy!” ollinger baited. “come on, billy!”

you watched the look in billy’s eyes then — assessing the threat. billy immediately dodged a punch over his head, came back up, and started slamming ollinger’s head against a wooden post.

the excitement of the men around you slightly died as they realized that billy didn’t fight like other men — he had no interest in punching, or relishing in getting a lick in. he went straight for a possible kill shot, grunting as he hoped to subdue ollinger.

there would be no stopping either of them. you relented against jesse’s arm, staring at the two men. your mouth parted in horror, and your stomach dropped at the sight.

billy eventually threw him over the picnic table like he was nothing more than a sack of flour. his grunts were predatory — powerful and fucking masculine. fighting was fun for ollinger — but this? this? for billy? this was necessity. he didn’t care about asserting dominance — he cared about being left the fuck alone. he needed to make sure ollinger never fucked about him again. dominance was worth nothing if you didn't have survival.

billy, still intoxicated, stumbled over to where he had thrown ollinger — but ollinger was too quick. he grabbed billy by the boot and threw him back. billy landed on his ass, and you watched in fear as ollinger stomped toward him. his eyes were wild and his mouth was curled into a bloody snarl. you wanted to get involved, you knew you should’ve — but what could you do? this was what happened when you rolled with men like this — they had to fight this out themselves, or they would become everyone’s problem. you hated it — every fucking minute of it — because this problem started with ollinger’s disrespect for you and how you could cut his jewels off before he could even get a kiss in. poor billy…

but not poor billy.

no, not poor billy — because when ollinger stood over billy, billy kicked him so far backwards that ollinger then stumbled and fell on his ass.

billy was up in an instant, stumbling, and smacked the absolute shit out of ollinger with an open palm. ollinger flew backwards for a second time that night, and suddenly the men grew more excited watching the fight. all you could do was trail behind them — worried.

billy walked up to the porch and stood above ollinger, but ollinger’s wounded pride had gotten the better of him. he took billy by the cloth of his shoulders, and slammed him repeatedly against the wooden wall of the outside of the house. jesse and his friends were cheering on billy, but all you could hear was his pained grunts. and then, just then — the moonlight had caught billy’s face just right. his eyes were screwed shut as the pain registered from the blow — and blood was pouring down from his nose and into his mouth. billy fell against ollinger in exhaustion, and that was when pat garett started cheering louder and louder.

“please,” you whispered, helpless.

in an instant, billy had gotten his elbows up and clutched the shoulders of ollinger’s shirt. with (basically) a battle cry, he willed himself to push ollinger off of him, in front of him, and then in through the doors of where all of the other men were with their women.

you followed jesse, pat, and the others.

billy and ollinger immediately crashed into the floor of the house with grunts and screams. the men once getting blown or ridden were now cheering on the fight, and the women above them or at their feet were stunned and confused — worried about getting hit.

this time — billy had gotten up before ollinger. ollinger may have had years of experience on billy, but years were years: ollinger was old, and exhausted. billy stood up and began laying overhead punch after overhead punch onto ollinger.

“get up, ollinger!” he yelled, eyes black. “get the fuck up!”

immediately, billy pulled back. like you had thought — he didn’t need the kill shot, but he needed the threat subdued. billy was breathing heavy, he was bleeding… you were so worried for him. jesse pushed past you and grabbed billy’s arm, raising it above his head.

“boys, we got a winner!” jesse cheered before everyone followed in suit.

billy fell back against the nearest bed and sat down. it just so happened that was a bed that your oldest friend was sharing with a woman. stunned, the woman grabbed billy by the shoulders to steady him. she wiped some of the blood off of his face with his shirt. you were thankful — but then her smile turned big when she realized how handsome he was.

your blood boiled.

you watched at his big eyes darted up to her face as he tried to regain his composure. he took one look at her face, your friend, and got up.

he spat once on the floor, cleaning his mouth of any excess blood. over his shoulder, he threw, “no hard feelings, ollinger.”

and started straight towards you.

you stood there, in the back behind everyone, frozen in place. billy was in front of you in as little as five strides. thankfully she had wiped his face — because he only tasted vaguely like blood when he grabbed you by the face and pressed your lips to his.

he cupped your face with one hand, but it held you in place like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. with his finger stroking your cheek, you kissed him with every bit of fear, frustration, and excitement you had in you. your lips folded together like you two were the only ones in the room — and like everyone in the room wasn’t cheering for the clear winner of the fight, and the kiss with the girl the fight was started over.

billy had stood up for you. the one man who had actually ever done that.

against your lips, he whispered. “i know you could handle himself yourself — but you shouldn’t have had to.”

you giggled against his lips, yours stretching into a wide grin. he pecked your lips a couple of times, unable to get enough of being the only one to be able to do this. he replied, “never had much taste for these girls — had a different one in mind.”

“you gonna take her somewhere private, cowboy, or what?” you asked.

billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief before he bent low, and hauled you over his shoulder. your feet kicked in front of him as you struggled to hold your hat in place and keep your balance. you were shouting at him, but nothing could be heard over your giggles or everyone else’s whistling. with one firm arm circling your hips, keeping your ass in place with his massive hand, he kicked open the doors and brought you upstairs.

“billy, if you don’t put me down —“ you laughed, breathlessly. threats were futile. “i swear —“

“shhh, sweetheart — you know i’ll take care of you,” he responded.

billy found an empty bedroom and immediately went to work. he sat you down on a low dresser and immediately started going for your riding pants and shirt. you kicked off your boots and shimmied out of the fabric as billy stood over you.

with one hand pressed to your cheek, he kissed you once more. you pulled away to smile at him. you spoke, “thank you… for what you did.”

“ollinger needs to know when to shut his mouth,” he spoke, engulfing you in a kiss once more. “should’ve made a move if he was jealous. now i’m the only one who gets to have my face between these pretty thighs.”

he pulled you by the hips so you were almost hanging off the edge, your feet flat against the wood of the dresser. you were breathless as your head began to swim. billy got down on his knees, parted your thighs, and dove for your slit.

your head immediately hit the wall. you wanted to arch your back — keen towards him — but you had limited mobility. you were at the mercy of the man before you who was lapping at your clit like nothing else existed. you should've been worried about his injuries, the dried blood on your face... but you couldn't. you didn't. billy was satisfying every bit of desperation you had felt since that night and you were too strung out to fight him. strained moans left your lips as your hips began to buck into his face.

“billy, stop…” you whined. “i want you inside me…”

he didn’t listen. the man kept his tongue drawing all kinds of messy, wet circles around your sensitive bud that pulled every dirty whine out of you. in an instant, billy pushed two fingers into you and immediately started pumping them. you lost your breath — and your ability to speak coherent sentences as well. he was tapping against your upper wall, pining for that sweet spot that was gonna make you sing for him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried. one of your hands found his tangled mess of curls and fisted your fingers through them. billy’s tongue was thick, hot, and the roof of it was rough as he shook his head against your center, increasing the friction. your hips and legs were spasming uncontrollably as a warm feeling spread from your abdomen. “jesus christ — you’re so mean.”

the air seemed to shift in that moment, but you were so lost you couldn’t comprehend. billy wrapped his cracked lips around your clit, and pulled at it and sucked. hard.

your eyes screwed shut as a cry vibrated through your chest and into your throat. it hurt, god it hurt, but in the most bittersweet way you could imagine. it was like pain and comfort all in one, delivered by the same hand, driving you into submission. every blood vessel was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing for billy’s movements and you couldn’t regain control — and you weren't sure you wanted to.

he suddenly pulled away. “you think i’m mean, sweetheart?”

his blue eyes pierced into yours when he picked up his head to face you. his eyes were raised in a manner that suggested he expected a response, but you were still in your daze. your eyes were glossy, your lips were puffy and parted, hoping he'd answer his question for you.

billy didn’t like that. with his free hand, he slapped your clit.

your body jolted, surprised at the sensation. it made your breath catch in your throat as all of your senses were on red alert... but it only made your pussy throb harder.

“billy…” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes. “you’re teasing me.”

his dry thumb began to rub circles around your sensitive clit, and the mixture of your slick and the rough skin of his dumb drew you into his control. in that moment — in that raw, vulnerable moment — you couldn’t think of anything else besides billy, and getting him to make you cum.

“mean, that it, sweetheart?” another slap to your clit. “you want me to show you mean?”

even in your haze, you were a brat at heart. with a smirk, yet shaking from how sensitive you were, you smirked at him. “don’t think you can.”

in an instant, he was on his feet. you struggled to ring out your tense muscles and stand with him, but billy wasn’t having it. he flipped you around so you were on your stomach on the dresser, legs hanging over the edge. billy pulled your hips up for you to stand on your toes, forcing your ass into the perfect position for him.

“slut for only me, huh?” he asked, kneading the skin of your ass in his hands. he slapped it once, twice, thrice — ripping little squeals from your petal pink lips. his thumb found its way into the outer folds of your pussy, barely entering. “won’t throw even a pity glance at anyone down there — but something about me just gets you this wet.”

he pushed his thumb into your sopping wet hole, and you squealed. you held onto the dresser to give yourself leverage to push yourself into his hand, but one of his hands held down your lower back.

“more, please…” you whispered.

“that smirk made me think you don’t deserve it,” he spat, still playing with your pretty pussy.

“billy —!” you screamed with exasperation. “please!”

with his thumb still in your pussy, billy leant down and wrapped an arm around your throat. with your neck in the crook of his elbow, he pulled your back to arch up towards him. billy placed his lips right by your ear, and spoke, “is that who’s got you this worked up, baby? huh? me? be sweet, and maybe i’ll kiss those pretty tears away.”

you hadn’t even noticed it — but he was right. your cheeks were stained with tear streaks that made them damp. with broken breaths, you spoke, “please — i promise.”

he began to pump his thumb into your pussy, while his other fingers worked light circles around your clit. “promise what?”

“that i’m — that i —“ you couldn’t get the words out. you were a struggling mess — clinging to the dresser with the little strength in your hands you could muster, and completely at the mercy of billy’s hold. his breath was hot against your face as heat rose throughout your body. “i —“

“fucked so dumb you can't use your words?”

“fuck —“ you cried, already almost succumbing to the feather light touches on your clit. “you’re the only one, billy — only one — please, just let me cum.”

“yeah?” he grunted. “gonna take what i give you?”

“anything, billy —“ you gasped. “please — just want you.”

billy kept his promise. he pressed his lips against your cheek, pushing your head slightly to the side. every muscle in your body was taut with trying to remain balanced and stay perked for every one of billy’s moments. his fingers in your clit began working faster and harder, and your body began to shake. you were so sensitive to everything around you — his kisses, his chokehold, his heat on your back, his fingers buried deep in your folds. you bucked his hips back into his hand, and everything exploded.

without billy’s hold, you would’ve collapse into the dresser. your knuckles were white as they bent, causing your nails to rip at the wood of the dresser. you back was arched completely towards the ceiling as you tried to remain in position. billy was whispering nasty, nasty, nasty things in your ear that coupled with your delicious moans.

“that’s it, baby, just keep cumming for me,” he rasped, groaning in your ear. “can be such a brat — but she’s got the prettiest pussy. i know what makes my girl tick.“

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you cried, falling against billy’s shoulder. the world melted before you. your eyes were drifting open and closed. the haze had consumed your brain, and each of billy’s movements made a whine well up behind your closed lips. “fuck, billy, i can’t —“

his fingers didn’t stop, and you felt like you were about to collapse. “oh, sweetheart, too much for you?”

you were practically fucking sobbing at this point. “n-no-no—“

“greedy, baby,” he said, licking at your cheek. “thought you were gonna take everything i gave you?”

“your cock, billy — please —“

“naw, sweetheart,” he said stroking your cheek. “think you’re in over your pretty little head. can’t take anymore.”

“no, no, billy — i want your cock so bad —“ your whines were music to his fucking ears.

“yeah, baby?” he asked, shimmying off his pants. “you want my cock? think you can handle it?”

“i can, i can, i can —“ you chanted, your head swimming. you felt billy’s hands spread your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. his cock slipped in through your folds until he bottomed out, pressing his hips firmly against your back side.

with billy’s mouth still so close to your ear, he rasped, “sucked my cock into you, doll. couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

you arched your backside into his hips, eagerly hoping to meet every thrust. billy had once hand holding your hips down, and the other was clutching the soft, supple skin of your throat. you could hear every labored breath of his, mixing with your own. this position was unlike any other: from the back was usually reserved for women of the night, but holding you? in such an intimate manner? with his lips dragging across the skin of your cheek? waiting for how you reacted to his touch?

you were a mess. mud in his hands — dirty and messy and everywhere —needing him to keep you together.

“nothin’ feels better than you inside me, billy,” you whined.

“i know, darlin’, i’ll always take care of you,” he groaned, lips pulling at your ear lobe which sent your nerve endings on fire. “don’t know how you do it t’me. y’let me, and i'll always be back in between these pretty thighs.”

the groan you let out was hoarse in the most feminine way. your hair was splayed out all around you, cascading down your back. with every thrust, your nipples, taut, hit the cool wood of the dresser and mirrored the smallest bit of pain you needed to leave reality. your skin was flushed and tainted with every touch and caress from billy he gave you. when he saw the blush on your cheeks, and the tears staining your long lashes — he could’ve come right then.

his girl. his pure, fucked out, sweet and scary girl. all his. a force to be reckoned with, but the prettiest sight to see. and you were all his.

however, he wasn’t through with you yet.

no. he was so mean, and he knew it — but he didn't care.

not when he had finally had you after so long.

it was right then that billy promised himself he would never neglect you for so long ever again. he knew that no one had ever touched, fucked, or loved you like he did. he knew that you never let anyone even get as close to him as you let him that night, and he would never forget that — nor would he be so careless as being ungrateful.

his girl — flushed, pink, and finally being able to know what it means to be so vulnerable with a man that she would never know an orgasm like this. he would set the fires of hell on anyone around you if it meant that you could feel this free, so wild, so yourself for the rest of your life. he knew what he had to do next.

he pulled out, and flipped you over so you were back against the wall and sitting up. he immediately stepped in between you and pushed your thighs and legs up so your calves would rest on his shoulders.

“need to feel how deep that pussy can squeeze me,” he grunted, pressing his cock into your folds.

you moaned at his words and movements, practically sand at this point. your body was numb and on fire and in water all at the same time — leaving you completely out of control. all you needed, no — craved was billy sending you over the edge. over the edge, please, over, over, over, need it billy, a pathetic mess you were, but neither of you would change it for the world.

billy began pistoning his hips into yours and you immediately leaned forward to grab onto his bulging biceps. you felt every hot breath hit your face with every thrust. the room was so hot, stuffy, humid, and yet you didn’t want it to end. all you could feel was your tight, soft walls squeezing the living hell out of billy and his beautiful cock.

“‘m gonna cum, billy,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a good girl f’me, huh?” he bit. “always takin’ everything i give her. takes my cock so well.”

“only for you, baby,” you cried again, throwing your head back against the wall.

“oh — i don’t think so, sweetheart.” his thumb immediately went to your clit, drawing rough circles on the overstimulated rosebud. "i get to see those pretty eyes when you cum."

your body immediately went taut, sitting up. the slight shake of your limbs was apparent to both of you, and you let out little gasps because of how far you were driven from reality. his cock was pounding against that one sweet spot that made your knuckles white and your teeth bury themselves into the plump of your bottom lip.

“can’t,” you cried, tears beginning to flow once more. "oh, baby — i can't, i can't..."

“i know this pussy can handle it,” he bit. “what happened to being sweet, sugar? huh? goin’ back on your promise?”

his words were the last thing you heard before your body fell mercy to uncontrollable ecstasy. your mind, numb, was thrown back and forth between the throws of passion and the pull and push of billy’s hands bruising the flesh of your hips. you pressed your forehead to billy’s, sobbing through your gritted teeth. tears were pushing through your shut, wrinkled eyelids, and all you could hear was billy begging — coaxing that last orgasm out of you.

billy had won the fight, and he had earned every fucking orgasm he had given you that night. he needed it, he earned it, and he would not be denied it. testosterone was mixing with his blood, making his veins pound, and all he could think about how the scary and sweet girl he won a fight for was weak and needy for his touch.

desperate for a comfort that she hd only allowed him to give her.

he detached your foreheads so your faces were almost pressed together, sides of your noses touching. his lips were brushing against yours — but they weren't kissing you, no. instead, they were reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.

“sweetest fuckin’ girl i know.”

"luckiest guy in this whole thing — you get that? all fuckin' jealous of me."

“knows exactly what to do to fuckin’ please me.”

“pussy just won’t stop cumming, sugar? bet you hate me so much, huh?”

with one final pull of pleasure in your muscles, you screamed his name with a sob. a fucking sob. you were drenched in sweat, your own slick, and tears. fucking tears. they were everywhere — down your cheeks, your neck, and all over billy. your hands found the hair at the back of his neck, and you weaved your fingers through the tendrils for stability.

that was when billy’s orgasm hit him: when you were so weak you could do nothing but cling to him and cry for his touch.

the throaty groan that rumbled through his chest was unlike anything you ever heard. it was animalistic — a primal need was satisfied and everything in his body was singing at the release. he clutched your body to his and your skin warmed at the embrace. he delivered three final pumps into your puffy, pink pussy, and you couldn’t do anything besides take it. you didn't want to do anything else besides take it. the sound of his moans sent every hair on your body standing at attention and your fingers were stroking his soft skin for comfort.

“that’s it, baby,” you whispered, cockdrunk. “love when you're the only one that gets to use me like this.”

at that, he knew you'd be the death of him. he accepted it, and he was okay with it. — happy, even.

you were peppering kisses all over the side of his face as he was coming down from his high. a sleepy haze settled over his eyes, but instead he captured your lips into one final embrace.

“this is the second time this evening i’ve had my shit rocked tonight, darlin’, all because of you,” he whispered. “no dull moment with you, huh?”

“never, baby,” you whispered, letting your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned against him.

“good thing you’re mine,” he quipped, pressing a long and hard kiss to your cheek. “never could share a sweet thing like you.”

----

im buzzing after that

love u guys hehe

-L oxoxox

#william bonney #billy the kid #William h bonney #kid antrim #william h bonney x reader #william bonney smut #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy x reader #billy smut #billy the kid imagine #billy imagine #William h bonney smut #tom Blyth #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow

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perlelune · 4 months

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Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | v. {END}

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: DUB-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A deep breath flows from your lungs as you examine your reflection in the cracked, stained mirror. It’s been in your family for years and you never had the heart to rid yourself of it, despite the object’s sorry state. Like everything in the small house, it harbors a plethora of fond memories.

You arrange a few unruly strands of your hair. Though you immediately feel silly for doing so.

It’s not like he cares what you look like. It never bothered him before. He always seeks you out, even when you are worn and sweaty after working a long day at the factory.

As you tiptoe across the room, your gaze settles on Tilly’s tiny form. Soft breaths lift her chest up and down. She is fast asleep, thankfully. Words are amiss to explain where you’re sneaking off to tonight, who you’re planning on meeting up with…or perhaps there are words for that, some you are too terrified to even fathom. Two young people secretly wandering the streets of District 8 at night to find each other and…

Your cheeks flare with warmth.

This isn’t what Coriolanus is to you. He is your tormentor. That is all. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be shaking like a leaf in the dark, your stomach threatening to drop to your feet.

One of the moth-eaten, dusty floorboards squeaks below your feet as you reach the exit door and nudge it open.

“Are we going somewhere?”

Startled by your cousin’s drowsy voice, you turn around so fast that your head spins. She blinks at you curiously as she sits up in her bed. A heavy sigh peals from your lips. Smiling from ear to ear, you approach her.

You hunker down in front of her.

“I am. You’re not, sweetie.”

“Where?”

Your stomach coils. Still, your smile remains intact.

“Just gotta run an errand quickly,” you lie while cupping her cheek. “We’re running out of your medicine. We have to make sure you stay healthy past the winter.”

She yawns and glances at the twinkling stars through the window.

“But it’s so late.”

Excuses dwindle in your head. You retreat to the authoritative older sibling tone you sometimes use to get your cousin to do her chores.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

You tuck Tilly back into bed. Arranging the blanket over her gingerly, you drop a soft kiss on her forehead.

Your cousin nods and curls herself beneath her blanket. Relief swells within you. She is too little to hear about the purpose of your nightly trip. In fact, you plan on her never knowing a thing about it. With luck, all of it will end tonight. You’ll bow to the peacekeeper’s demands. One last time. Then you’ll bury the awful memory in the furthest, deepest recesses of your mind and never look back.

It’s what you hope will happen.

Cool winds skate across your skin when you step outside. The moon trails your quiet, anxious trek through the alleys of District 8, its silver beams lighting the cobblestoned path. Every time your feet hit the ground, the nervousness in the pit of your stomach grows. Perhaps you should have stayed home, risked his wrath. You are so painfully unready for whatever the peacekeeper has in store for you. Your wild, palpitating heart seems as if it’ll burst out of your chest any second now.

Suddenly, your tremulous walk is halted.

Familiar fingers snake around your wrist. You’re pulled into a dark corner and shoved against a wall. A stunned gasp hops from your throat.

Coriolanus smirks at your reaction.

“No need to be scared, birdie. It’s just me,” he whispers, balancing his arm above your head in a way that makes you feel caged.

“Coriolanus.”

He seizes your chin, cobalt eyes drinking you in. His voice is almost soft.

“You really thought I’d let you walk on your own at night? It’s not safe.”

He parts from the wall. His hand wraps around yours. He tugs you along and you have no choice but to follow.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll recognize it.”

Indeed, you do. To your utter despair. After strolling through a vertiginous amount of dank alleyways and narrow stairs, you and the peacekeeper end up in front of a place that bears a daunting familiarity.

As the neon lights of the brothel fill your sight, your apprehension skyrockets.

Snippets of memories of what occurred the last time you were here lurk inside your mind. Your insides clutch.

Coriolanus sighs. His thumb sweeps across your palm, almost tenderly.

“It won’t be like last time. I promise. You can trust me.”

The same beautiful woman welcomes the two of you. Once again, there’s a flirting lilt to her tone, one the peacekeeper ignores. Coriolanus asks about a room. His questions about it fade amidst the uproarious drumming of your heart inside your ears. You’re a jittery wreck behind him, your gaze bouncing from wall to wall.

His deep voice yanks your attention back to him.

“Birdie?”

“Y-Yes?”

The corner of his lips quirks upward.

“Come with me.”

You nod. Is it too late to make a run for it? Though you’d rather not find out how much worse this could get, how mean Coriolanus could turn. He didn’t even hesitate to have you on your knees before, simply to make a point. He’s in good spirits now, nicer than he’s ever been to you, even humming a light tune to himself. Maybe you should aim to keep it that way. Tread the path of least resistance, as much as you loathe yourself for surrendering to him so easily.

You enter the room. Your heart leaps when you hear him lock the door behind you. The inside is nicely decorated. Candles around the canopy bed at the center of the room provide a soft, intimate light.

Red and white rose petals are scattered over the silk sheets.

Your heart skips a beat when his breath ghosts over your neck.

“It’s pretty, right?” His hands settle over your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I had it decorated specially for us.”

He shifts you so you’re facing him. Fingers sneak below your chin, tilting it upward. Your stomach flutters as you get lost in his blue eyes. They burn into you like coals in the swaying candlelight.

“Has anyone ever done something this nice for you?”

You remain silent for a while, fiddling with the scarf around your neck, the one he gave you.

“N-No,” you eke out after an eternity.

He starts pulling on your scarf. When it hits the floor, exposing your neck to his gaze, you already feel incredibly vulnerable. You tremble as Coriolanus begins to circle around you. As he does that, more articles of clothing join your scarf on the floor, turning into a growing heap at your feet.

First he unbuttons your shirt. When it’s loose on your frame, he pulls on it lightly until it slides off you. Next he unlaces your skirt. Coriolanus is slow, digits dragging over your quivering flesh as he peels every layer of fabric off you. Eventually, you are bare before him. Goosebumps peek under your skin as he spends a torturous minute simply appraising you. Lust swells his pupils, nearly drowning the blue in his eyes.

“Have you ever done this before?”

You shake your head. He seizes your jaw, angling your face upward.

“No miners? No factory worker? No one before me?”

Heat rushes to your face. Still, you shake your head again, faintly wishing you could sink inside the earth and disappear.

Satisfaction illuminates his features.

“So I’m your first.” He caresses your arm. You will yourself still, despite the itch to run away searing through you like a hot knife. His voice lowers to a husky whisper. “I wish you’d see I’m not your enemy, birdie.”

He then shocks you. Layer by layer, Coriolanus starts to shed every part of his peacekeeper uniform. Every piece of clothing falls into a heap on the floor that melds with yours.

When he peels off his boxers, your throat dries. He’s thick and long, just as you remember. Apprehension settles within you. His eyes lock with yours. “Do I look like your enemy right now?” he mumbles. Your pulse picks up as he approaches you. Your gaze drifts everywhere and nowhere, your breath caged in your lungs.

“I don’t know.”

“Do I scare you?”

“Yes.”

His mouth slants crookedly.

“But not in the way you wished, right?”

You gawk at him, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed.

The courage to answer never finds its way into your heart. Coriolanus’ lips however find their way onto yours. At first, the kiss is soft and firm. Cradling your face, he sweeps his mouth over yours without haste. Meticulously slow. As if he wishes to commit your taste to memory.

He nudges you backwards onto the bed. When your back collides with the mattress, his mouth turns more ravenous. His tongue explores the roof of your mouth while his hands wander lower, kneading at your curves. Your head spins. You keen against his tongue as a sick twinge of something you won’t name flickers in your core.

When his mouth parts from yours, you’re both equally breathless, his warm breath mingling with yours. You find yourself almost longing for the heady feeling. Almost. The blond smiles down at your dazed expression.

He traces your jaw with his thumb.

“You can scream as much as you like, you know? No one will come to your rescue.”

“I won’t scream,” you say, defiance igniting your gaze.

“Oh but you will,” he replies with confidence. His mouth ghosts over your earshell. “You’re all mine tonight, pretty bird.” His mouth tugs upwards. “And I plan on making you beg for it before the morning comes.”

As if to emphasize his point, he slithers down your body. The entire time, he corrals your gaze, his blue eyes shimmering in the darkness. He wedges himself between your thighs, meeting only meek resistance as he pushes them apart.

Coriolanus appraises your slick folds. He drags a finger alongside your slit, mirth lighting up his face.

“Already so wet for me, birdie,” he says.

Your face heats. You could try to contradict him but the evidence is right there between your legs. Impossible to escape or deny. You are sinfully, embarrassingly wet in front of the peacekeeper.

“I-”

Brazenness melts off your tongue when he presses his lips to your core. He feasts on your weeping folds, his unyielding fingers keeping you placid and open. His tongue teases your tender nub, drawing torturous patterns. Your muscles tighten. The air in your lungs rushes in and out faster as Coriolanus’ tragically skilled tongue sends zings of shameful pleasure through your spine.

Meticulous and slow, he takes his time to taste you. Every second he spends unraveling you is the most sensual torture.

Your trembling fingers claw at the sheets, your eyes rolling back. You glance down. A peculiar tingle dances through your belly when you catch sight of the blond’s head bobbing between your thighs. Despite your center aching for release, you fight the urge to buck your hips into his mouth and seek more of the delectable contact. He sucks your swollen clit between his lips, pushing his tongue between your folds. You gulp down a sharp scream. Waves of pleasures sweep through your frame. Your lids flutter as your stomach tightens. A painful tension settles in your limbs, heat gathering in your core.

For a long time, you try to stay quiet. You bite yourself hard enough to draw blood as you muffle every whimper and moan struggling to break past the confines of your lips.

Coriolanus makes his way up your body, his index and middle finger replacing his tongue. Quick exhales burst from your chest as you peer at him through your hazy vision.

“I want to hear you, birdie,” he rasps, his fingers catching on your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open. He sinks a finger inside you. Your chest lifts, brushing against his. When the digit hooks between your slick walls, grazing against your sensitive spot, you unleash a loud squeal.

The blond smiles.

“There. So much better.”

He sneaks another finger inside your core, stretching you even more. Unused to the feeling, you whine and grip a fistful of the sheets. He pumps inside you, finding a steady rhythm that has you twitching beneath him. The broken moans spilling from your tongue mingle with the wet sounds your cunt makes as he explores you with his fingers.

Embarrassment is slowly nudged aside by the storm of delectable sensations growing inside you.

The heel of his hand keeps grazing against your swollen button, eliciting spikes of pleasure through your flesh.

His forehead rests against yours, his feathery lashes falling to half-mast as he whispers,

“Come for me, birdie.”

Your breathing accelerates, his words propelling you closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers. Your legs tense. Warm tingles swirl across your flesh as your back arches.

A lightning bolt of pleasure passes through you, quick and intense. For a few seconds, not a thought occupies your mind. You are nothing but a million nerve endings on fire.

Your boneless frame crashes over the sheets.

“Good girl,” he praises, his smile expanding. His fingers pull out of you and he brings them to his lips. You watch, sickly fascinated as he dips them into his mouth, reveling in your taste. He hums in appreciation. Your face warms. He then places those same digits over your own lips, forcing you to taste yourself. He bends over you, peppering sluggish kisses in the crook of your neck. His hand splays over your heaving chest, his thumb rubbing your nipples until they pebble under his touch. His lips trail lower on your body.

He pauses, looming over you. Hands on each side of you, Coriolanus lines his tip with your entrance. Your eyes widen in surprise. You squirm and try to scoot away, panic rushing through you.

He yanks you back on the bed with ease, his body pinning yours onto the mattress. When you reach for his face, hoping to land a blow, he snatches your wrists and slams them above your head.

He scoffs, “So feisty, even to the bitter end.”

Your breath falters when his thick tip stretches you open. Even that single inch of him feels like too much. Rapid breaths burst from your fluttering chest.

Tears quiver beneath your lashes.

“It hurts…”

He pushes until he’s halfway inside you. Pain shoots through you as you sob.

The tears spill. He releases one of your wrists to fondle your cheek.

“Shh, it’s okay, pretty bird. I’ve got you.”

He shoves inside you until he grazes your hilt. Your lips part in a quiet scream, your vision flickering. For a while, Coriolanus remains still, giving you time to accommodate his thick girth. He starts moving, his thrusts slow and deep. The longer he fucks you, the more the pain morphs into something else. Something not entirely unpleasant, albeit a little terrifying. The aching stretch becomes tantalizing, your wet walls clinging to his length every time it drags against your soft spots. Little whimpers leave your throat as you cling to his bicep.

Coriolanus’ hand wraps around your jaw.

“Focus on me and only me,” he instructs.

Your eyes dive into his. Flames dance in his cobalt orbs. He smiles, his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip.

“Such an obedient girl.”

“How does it feel now?” he grunts. You note the sweat glistening over his bare muscles, dotting at his brow. His exhales are more strained now, matching yours.

You keen at a sharp snap of his pelvis into yours. He picks up the pace, bending one of your thighs against your chest to thrust as far as his cock will go. Your toes curl, blissful shivers creeping their way up your spine.

“Awful,” you wheeze out.

He snickers. “You’re a horrible liar, birdie.”

You sense him nearing the cusp of his pleasure. His cock twitches between your walls and you plead, panicked, “Corio…Coriolanus…not inside, please.”

A crooked grin spreads on his lips.

“But wouldn’t it be wonderful, if I left you something to remember me by.”

You shudder, shaking your head. “No…”

He slips his fingers between your joined bodies, drawing a long moan from you when he starts rubbing your pulsing clit. He plays with your tender bud until you cry out. You come apart around him, slick walls hugging him snugly as he shoots his thick seed inside you.

Dread settles in your bones, piercing through the haze of delight. You tremble as the stickiness trickles alongside your walls.

He lets out a throaty sigh, trapping you underneath him so you can’t move.

“Yes,” he breathes out, burying his head in the crook of your neck. Your mouth opens in shock as another tear traces a blazing path down your cheek. He scatters bruising kisses along the column of your neck. His cruel words sear into your flesh. “That way you can never forget you were mine before anyone else, birdie.”

You awake with a start, bruised and sore, in the massive bed. Your glance darts around, confusing filling you as you tuck the blanket against your frame. Your shoulders sag. You note faint sunlight pouring through the crimson curtains. All the candles from last night have been blown out.

It’s the next day. You are alone. You shiver at the sight of the rumpled sheets, glimpses from the night before seeping through your mind. Coriolanus kept true to his word and made you sing for him the entire night. He was relentless and didn’t stop until you passed out from pleasure. In fact, you were so exhausted, you can’t pinpoint the moment he left. You simply recall him cooing soft praises in your ear as he had his way with you for the last time.

For a moment, you held some fear that he would never leave, since he was so hellbent on making you come around him as many times in a row as he could.

What terrifies you most however, is that last night wasn’t terrible. Not entirely. Or not in the way you pictured at least. Heat creeps up in your cheeks at the thought.

You clamber off the bed, wincing at the aching stiffness of your limbs. You collect your clothes and begin to dress. You’re eager to leave the room. It stinks of sex and shameful mistakes.

As you climb down the stairs, the madam greets you with a wiggle of her fingers. You bristle, shame glowing inside your chest.

She bends over the wooden handrail, her cleavage threatening to spill out of her dress.

“He said you were free to stay in the room to rest for the entire day if you wished. Paid in full before he left.”

“I don’t want to stay.”

You hasten your pace to reach the exit faster.

She stops you in your tracks, a mischievous grin dancing on her lips.

“So the pretty boy didn’t tire you out then?” She tilts her head and pouts. “Pity. I imagined him to be a more…zealous lover.”

Your cheeks flame as you rush out of the brothel. You can’t get back home fast enough.

You need a shower expeditiously. Never before have you longed for the freezing cold spray to hit your skin so badly.

You return home to at least a month’s worth of supplies and medicine in several bags.

There’s even candy for your cousin, the same he brought her last time. Your cousin’s overjoyed, of course, but you remind her not to overindulge.

Nothing else accompanies them. No letter. No card. You should feel happy at that, you surmise. Finally, you are free to live life on your own terms, return to your routine.

Part of you is a little stunned by it however, and perhaps expect the peacekeeper to not be truly gone. For days, you keep wondering if he’ll materialize from a dark corner or surprise you as you stroll down a dank alleyway.

None of that occurs. Still, it takes weeks for your blood not to chill anymore at the sight of a peacekeeper. After a month of tranquil, humdrum days, you’re forced to admit it. Coriolanus has granted you the peace he promised.

Your chest is a little lighter as you head to the factory everyday. You even start smiling again, which Yara and Tilly keep teasing you about.

But you can’t help it. No more feeling scared or confused. No more eyes trailing your every move. You’re relieved, happy. Life in district 8 may sometimes be uncertain but, at least, you hold your destiny in your hands once more.

Blessed freedom. Finally.

So you let yourself relax. Over time, the terror gripping your gut melts away. The tightness in your chest eases.

Your mind is so at ease that you don’t notice the shadow creeping behind you on your way out of the factory. It’s too late when you do.

A black cloth is shoved over your head as you turn a street corner. You’re hauled off your feet and dragged into a dim alley. Your heart races, panic flooding you as you’re tossed into the back of a vehicle.

The engine roars to life. Every question you ask is ignored, your kidnappers frustratingly silent. You wonder if you’ll die or be sold off to traffickers. You’ve heard of district girls disappearing sometimes, the kind no one will miss or ask too many questions about.

They often end up in sordid places. You’ve heard the stories. Some could end up in the mines, in shady brothels or even wind up as an Avox maid with their tongues cut off. Chills swirl over your skin.

Is it to be your fate? Being carted off to some hellish place and worked to death?

The car stops. Your pulse soars. Quick breaths pour from your mouth as you’re roughly carried to some other place. You struggle, trying to kick your assailant. You land a blind strike and hear a curse. You make a run for it, your blood singing wildly.

It’s pathetic the swiftness with which you’re caught, as if your attempt meant nothing.

You’re shoved into a box. As the slamming of a hammer surrounds you, sealing your fate, you begin to sob. You used to think you were just born in the wrong place, unlucky, like so many others. Now you’re starting to believe you are cursed.

Shivers wrack your frame as the box is lifted. Your stomach lurches. The entire trip is a nightmare. Dread grips you tight as questions crowd your mind about who’s taking you and why. After a while, you realize you’re on a train. Your terror swells.

You’re being moved out of District 8. You haven’t left your district since birth. For better or worse, this was your home.

After an awful, rambunctious journey, the box is finally opened. You hear grunting above you as the lid of the box is pried open.

The bag over your head is removed and you take in a lungful of clean air. Strong arms hoist you out of the box. You clumsily stumble to your feet.

You whirl.

An audible breath skips off your tongue as you take in who stands before you. He looks so different. No more peacekeeper uniform. No more buzzcut.

“Coriolanus?” you gasp.

He smiles. “Hi, birdie.” A wave of snow engulfs your veins.

He sweeps a hand over his silver curls, sounding almost bashful.

“Do you like it? I’m trying to grow it out again.”

Ignoring him, you peer at your surroundings. The white room has a vaulted glass ceiling that allows sunlight in. The pearly marble tiles are pristine. Other than that, you only find one opening. A small door on the other side. You scuttle across the room to reach it.

The door knob shakes but doesn’t give. Still, you insist, your desperation growing. Your heart sinks as you glance down at the tiny keyhole in the door.

Coriolanus’ deep voice approaches from behind you.

“This is a locked cell, pretty bird,” he explains. “And I’m the only one with the key. Dr. Gaul uses it for her more…feral experiments. But she’s granted me permission to use it for an experiment of my own.”

You whip around. “Dr. Gaul?”

You feign interest, hoping to distract him, having noted the tiny golden key dangling from his neck. Coriolanus catches you looking at it and smirks. “My mentor. Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through everything. I’m sure you’ll fit right in over time.”

He inches closer and you stagger backwards.

“W-Why am I here?”

Instead of being offended by your attempts to shy away from him, the blond seems mildly amused, studying you as he paces around the room.

“I couldn’t let my sweet bird wither away in a filthy district, of course. I belong in the Capitol, and you belong to me.”

You gape at him. While you knew him to be some entitled rich kid from the Capitol, you never imagined he’d take it this far. Steal you away like you’re some shiny object that struck his fancy at the marketplace. Not a person with a life and desires of their own.

“You’re insane,” you hiss.

His mouth twitches, marking the first hint of displeasure at your reaction.

“We’ll have to work on that coarse mouth of yours. It will not stand here.” His tone grows chillier. “Here in the Capitol, we have discipline, order.”

“Let me go,” you shout, lunging yourself at him. You attempt to tackle him and grab the key from his neck. Unleashing a sigh of annoyance, Coriolanus seizes your wrist and twists it with hardly any effort. The sickening sound of bones snapping lands in your ears. He throws you on the floor, kicking your side for good measure. You keel over the tiles, cradling your throbbing wrist against your chest.

Coriolanus shakes his head as he considers your curling frame on the floor.

“Look what you’re making me do, sweet bird. As I’ve said, your uncouth District wench ways will not stand here. You’re going to behave…” He hunkers down before whispering, “Unless you never want to see your cousin again.”

Your head snaps up, tears filling your eyes.

“She needs me. Coriolanus, please-”

“She will be cared for. There’s a very nice orphanage south of the Capitol, one for all the children who lost their homes in the war.” He beams at you. “She’s being transported there as we speak.”

“Oh my god…”

“You want to see her again? It’s all up to you, birdie.” A slow, wicked smirk blooms on his lips. “...Or perhaps she would fare well as the District 8 tribute for the 11th Hunger Games. She may be a little young…but at least she’d increase viewership.”

“You can’t do that,” you protest, your lip quaking as tears skip over your cheeks.

A dark chuckle leaves him.

“I can and I will. You see, birdie, the world isn’t fair.” He cocks his head. “No one cares about innocent children dying. Hell, I was kicked, beaten and starved so many times during the war, I lost count. No one cared.” His blue eyes turn icier as they meet yours. “The world…it’s an arena. You’re either a predator, or you’re prey.” He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. A gesture that’d be almost tender if the words spilling from his mouth weren’t so cruel. “It’s best to just embrace your role.”

He caresses your tear-stained cheek.

“So will you be my sweet, obedient girl?”

As you sink in his empty blue gaze, a sense of defeat cloaks your frame. You come to realize, you were never meant to come out unscathed from meeting Coriolanus Snow, never meant to win. The fire in his eyes is the kind that burns all standing in its path.

There is no getting away. If you survived him, you’d be lucky.

Your chin trembles as you reply meekly, “Y-Yes, Coriolanus.”

His lips brush over yours before he gets to his feet, satisfaction glowing on his handsome features.

“Wonderful. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone, birdie.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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nexysworld · 1 year

Text

Gym Adventures

Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Masterlist

Summary: Leon and Chris convince you to go to the gym with them for the first time. While you're not super keen at first, what you don't expect is the additional activities you manage to get up to.

Or: Hot gym-shower threesome with Chris and Leon. Pairing: Chris & Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Smut, Thigh riding, blowjobs,throatfucking, shower sex, unprotected sex, double creampie, p in v sex, threesome, dirty talk, praise, sex in a public place? (no other people there tho.) No use of Y/N

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a sigh and gave yourself a once-over, turning to get a full picture of your appearance. You wondered if this outfit would meet the mysterious criteria of being "gym appropriate." It was the fourth outfit you had tried on, and none of them felt quite right. Tossing another top onto the bed, joining the pile of discarded clothes, you decided to take a different approach.

As you pulled on the fifth top of the day, a knock on the door interrupted you. "We're going to be late. You know I was joking when I said 'dress to impress.' I promise no one cares what you wear to the gym," Chris called out. He and Leon had been taking turns trying to convince you to make a decision on your attire so that you could finally get going. They had been persistent in convincing you to join them at the gym in the first place, and it had taken them a week to succeed.

"I know that," you replied. "Just give me a few more minutes, okay?"

If you were being honest, the issue wasn't really the clothing, but the idea of working out with them in general. They were both so fit from their jobs that it made you feel self-conscious, regardless of what you were wearing. Coming to this realization, you opted to throw a sweater over your current outfit and opened the door to a startled Leon, who was now taking his turn to knock. Apparently, you had taken longer than just a few minutes this time.

"Oh, there you are. I thought we were going to be late," he said with an awkward chuckle.

"How can we be late to a 24-hour gym?" you inquired as he stepped back to let you pass.

"It was just a figure of speech. I thought you were never going to leave the room," he explained as the three of you made your way to the front door, heading outside into the crisp night air. You had agreed to go only if there wouldn't be anyone else around, so they suggested going in the middle of the night.

Upon arriving at the gym, you felt relieved to see that there was indeed no one else there. It eased your anxiety a little. Entering the building, the two men immediately took it upon themselves to show you around, pointing out different equipment and asking about your interests. "Uh... the treadmill, I guess," you replied, not fully absorbing all the fitness information they were throwing at you.

"Are you sure that's all?" Chris raised an eyebrow.

"No judgment from us," Leon added. "We just thought you might want to work on your strength too." He flexed his arm playfully. You rolled your eyes, but it did manage to make you laugh.

"No thanks, maybe next time. I think the treadmill is just fine for now," you said, taking off the oversized sweater and tossing it aside. The lack of response from the two men with you was odd since they always had something to say, especially Leon.

"Everything okay? Did I do something wrong?" Suddenly, anxiety washed over you, thinking you may have done something silly like turning the machine on incorrectly. You turned to look at them and saw that they were both staring at you before immediately whipping their heads in other directions, trying to act cool.

"Oh, you're fine," Chris said, turning to face the weights. "We were just keeping an eye on you, making sure you didn't blow up the machine or something."

Leon seemed uneasy too, already walking towards a piece of equipment whose name you couldn't remember. "What Chris said. Just making sure you're okay."

‘Well, that was weird,’ you thought to yourself, stepping onto the treadmill. It wasn't like them to not hover, especially if there was even the slightest chance of you hurting yourself. You let the thought go, assuming that the gym was their domain and maybe they were just serious about their own workouts. However, the silence as time went on did make you feel a bit uneasy.

You decided to put in your earbuds, listening to some music as you ran, tuning out everything around you. Every now and then, you glanced over at one of them, thinking you caught them staring, only to see them quickly avert their gaze when they noticed you looking. Their increasingly strange behavior puzzled you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your music and your run.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed until your music stopped, concluding your workout playlist. Breaking a sweat and feeling a satisfying burn in your legs, you stopped the treadmill and stepped off. Raising your arms above your head, you stretched from side to side before bending down to touch your toes. The stretching felt great, and although hesitant to admit it, running in the gym instead of the humid outside air did feel a lot better. Maybe Chris and Leon had been right about going.

When you looked around, you noticed that Chris was nowhere to be found, and Leon seemed to be finishing up his own routine. You took it as a cue to grab your bag and make your way over to the showers. However, in your distraction, you accidentally walked straight into the men's showers, only realizing your mistake when you stopped abruptly, seeing Chris facing the showerhead in his stall, steam radiating from around his lower half.

A lump formed in your throat as you watched them. You knew them for a while, yet you couldn't summon a memory of ever seeing either of them without their shirts much less naked. You had gotten a sense of their bodies through their work clothes and the thin material of their t-shirts, but this was entirely different.

Your eyes followed the water droplets that glided down Chris's back, each one collecting into all of his perfect curves before sliding off of him. His body moved like a masterpiece beneath the shower water. You felt warmth fill your stomach as the spark of desire began growing.

'I should go. I should go before he catches me--' Your thoughts were interrupted before you could act on them.

"You know, they say it's not polite to stare," Leon's silky voice purred, his warm breath tickling your ear from behind.

"I wasn't staring!" You protested louder than intended. Turning around, planning to scramble past Leon, you saw that he was disrobed as well, wearing only his underwear.

'Fuck, he's fit too,' you thought, your eyes fixed on his well-carved body. It was like someone had taken a lingerie model from the pages of a magazine and put him in front of you. Heat rose to your face, embarrassed that Leon had caught you peeking at Chris in the shower, and now you were completely frozen in place, ogling Leon as well.

"Are you sure about that, Princess?" Leon's lips stretched into a mischievous grin. You found yourself unable to look away from the trail of hair below his navel and then to the band of his black boxers. Your nipples became hard against your bra and your panties clinging to you with an uncomfortable wetness as you fought for words to respond.

To your dismay, Chris had heard part of the commotion and turned to look at you and Leon. "What the hell?!" You couldn't tell if he was more irritated or confused as he stared at the two of you.

“My apologies, Redfield. It appears our young lady here can’t help but stare,” Leon joked, lightly caressing your cheek with his thumb. Annoyed and embarrassed at his comment, you batted it away.

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked, raising an eyebrow.

Attempting to duck out of the steam-filled room, you were stopped by Leon. "Oh, don't be shy now, Baby. Why don't you tell Chris what I caught you doing, hmm?"

Huffing your cheeks and crossing your arms like a child, you didn't want to give in to Leon's teasing, but you still felt guilty about your own actions. Swallowing your pride, you turned to Chris. "I walked into the wrong shower by accident, and I may have... been staring... I'm sorry." Your face was flushed with shame as your eyes met his brown ones.

The steam of the shower station partially obscured your view of Chris, so you could only see the contours of his pecs and broad shoulders. The patchy brown hair clung to his chest, emphasizing his thick muscles and wide shoulders. He was built like a linebacker and every inch of him screamed strength. "Now, why would you be doing that?" he asked with amusement in his voice, well aware that you were examining him.

"I... I don't know," you chewed your cheek nervously. "Look, it was a mistake. Let me just get out of here to the women's room. I'll shower, and we can head home."

"No need for that, you're already here," Leon offered, clicking the lock into place on the door. "See? It's just me and Chris. You won't have to worry about anyone else coming in." Leon walked past you, shedding the last of his own clothing before taking a stall and turning the water on.

Chris shrugged. "Leon's right. You might as well stay. Besides, you wouldn't want to worry about any potential wandering eyes," he teased, letting out a chuckle that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Shut up! You know, I caught the two of you gawking at me out there too!" you retorted.

"Did we now?" Leon shouted over at you, and you could swear you heard him laugh under the shower. "Because I certainly don't remember that."

"Me either," Chris added, crossing his arms. "I only remember observing you for your own safety."

Not wanting your pride to be chipped away any further, you huffed, ending the conversation and walking over to the farthest stall possible to take your own shower. You knew that they wouldn't immediately see your unclothed form due to the distance and steam.

Turning on the shower and stepping inside, you relished the feeling of the hot water hitting your skin, washing away the sweat and easing the tension in your muscles. Closing your eyes, you did your best to just focus on the relaxation of the shower. However, images of the two men kept flooding your mind. The heat in your core never fully went away, but would come back in waves each time you pictured one of them … or both of them. As you ran a hand down your own body, you stopped just a moment to tweak at your budding nipple quietly hissing in pleasure before working your hand lower and lower, until your fingers were between your legs rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves there.

Each twitch of pleasure had you biting your lip to stay quiet as you desperately worked at yourself. Normally you were one for a much slower build of pleasure, but all you wanted right now was relief so you could finish your shower in peace, get dressed, and head home. Despite your internal prayers, you weren’t seeming to get any closer to your peak, taking far longer than expected. Unbeknownst to you as well, the men had started to worry in your silence and the extended length of your shower.

“Oh.” You heard, eyes snapping open to see Leon and Chris standing before you, both having towels wrapped around their hips. If you had been embarrassed before, you were downright humiliated now.

“We were just coming to check on you. You’d been in there a while.” Chris said, breaking the tension.

“Guess now we know why.” Leon added, amused. “Bet you were thinking about us too, weren’t you Princess? Staring wasn’t good enough, was it? You looked pretty desperate, pawing at that little pussy like you’d die if you didn’t cum.”

The sound of Leon's words had left you stunned, unable to move as a wave of desire rushed through your body. His vulgar words destroyed any resistance you had almost instantly, and any response felt trapped in your throat.

“I’ll take that silence as agreement then.” Leon chuckled. “Poor thing, looks like you weren’t even getting anywhere. Guess we better help, so we can get you home.” Leon moved past you, dropping the towel from his waist before pulling you down to sit on his thigh, while he seated himself on the little bench inside the shower.

The second your bare pussy made contact with his leg, you let out an involuntary mewl, pleasure jolting through you slightly. He had you facing away from him, putting his hands on your hips to help glide your slick cunt over the muscle of his toned thigh. The most pathetic noises left your lips as he did so.

“Shit, I think you were right Leon, so desperate.” Chris said, ditching his own towel to enter the shower stall and kneeling in front of you. He cupped your face between both hands. “Be honest, you were thinking about us, weren’t you, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes.” You admitted with a choked whine, hands coming forward to get purchase on Chris’ shoulders as Leon jostled his leg purposefully, sending an added spark of pleasure to your clit.

“What did you imagine sweetheart? Were we taking turns fucking you, passing you back and forth until we were done, or did we pleasure you together?” Chris let go of your face to move his hands down to your chest, using his thumbs to rub circles over your puckered nipples making you whimper.

Leon stopped all of his movements and held you in place. “He asked a question, Princess”, he said softly as he peppered your back with sweet kisses.

“T-together.” You managed to get out. As a reward for your honesty, Leon resumed helping you grind down onto his thigh while Chris worked your breasts before capturing your lips with his own in a tantalizing kiss. The taste of his tongue made you dizzy, and your hips tried to go beyond the speed Leon had set.

"That's right," Leon said, his voice low and deep as he removed his hand so you could go at your own pace. "Do whatever you need Baby." His thigh felt like a blissful cushion beneath your heated folds and Chris' kisses had you hot and hazy.

Chris' thumb circled one nipple as his other hand squeezed and massaged the swollen mound. Without warning he pinched down on one of the the sensitive nubs, sending waves of electric heat straight to the core of your body. You were surprised at how good everything felt, already so much closer than you had been using your fingers, and the two had barely done much to you. "Gonna cum." You mumbled into Chris' mouth.

"Go on baby." Chris encouraged. It didn't take long before you felt that familiar rush of pleasure darting from your core all throughout your body, making even your fingers and toes tingle.

They held you steady for a little bit giving you the chance to come down from your high and catch your breath. By now you could feel the hot length of Leon's hardened cock resting against you, and even with half your brain gone you knew Chris was likely in the same predicament.

"Look at you so beautiful right after you cum." Chris cooed, tilting your head up to look at him. "Think you can help us out in return sweetie?"

"Mhm." You nodded lazily. Chris coaxed you up from your spot on Leon's lap and readjusted you, so you were bent down face to face with Leon's cock, ass up for Chris.

"My turn to see that beautiful face." Leon smiled, stroking himself a couple of times. You watched as the tip leaked a few beads of pearly precum and darted your tongue out to lap at it. He hissed in pleasure before rubbing the head against your lips. "Shit baby, so eager already." Your tongue played with the head for a bit more before taking him into your mouth. You began to bob your head, sucking with increasing speed until you felt hands fisting your hair. "That's right baby, take it all."

You felt Chris move finally, dragging his own cock down the length of your slit to gather some slick. "I'm gonna put it in, ok?" You couldn't respond, but gripped Leon's thighs tightly, feeling the head beginning to build in your core again.

As he sunk himself into your pussy until he was bottomed out, you couldn't help but nearly choke down on the cock in your mouth. "Fuck you're tight, relax baby, you don't need to push me out. Gonna make you feel so fucking good." Chris said, kneading at your ass while he stopped to let you adjust.

Drool was pooling around the base of Leon's cock as you moaned around it. "God you look so beautiful like that." Leon said, wiping some spittle away with his thumb. "So fucking pretty with my cock down your throat, what a good girl taking me all the way." His words made your dripping cunt clench around Chris.

"With the way you were looking at us earlier I'm not surprised, your little pussy likes it when you're taking two cocks at the same time." Chris said, sliding himself back out and slamming back in to the hilt, making you moan around Leon's length. He pulled back out until only the tip was left before pushing in again.

You were doing your best to focus on moving your head up and down to pleasure the man in front of you, but it was hard getting your brain to focus when you were getting railed from behind.

Leon chuckled. "I think our Princess has been rendered a little too dumb to keep up. That's ok baby, just let me use that tight little throat of yours, you just relax." He said, tightening his grip on your hair bucking his hips up to fuck the tip of his cock farther down your throat before pulling you up to let you breath. "Such a good baby, taking me so well, choking on my cock." Leon praised as he pulled you back down taking in each gagged noise you made as he bucked back into your mouth.

"You like getting fucked like this baby?" Chris asked, picking up the pace, balls smacking against your clit with each movement.

"Mff!" You responded with eyes unfocused as your nose was buried in the wiry hair on Leon's pelvis.

Chris grunted, thrusts becoming slower but harder. It wasn't long before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you up with his hot cum. "Fuck baby." When he pulled his softening cock out, he used two fingers to scoop up some of the leaking cum, rubbing it against your clit just enough to stimulate you, but not enough to get you across the finish line. "You wanna finish her off?" Chris asked, looking at Leon.

In response, Leon popped you off of his own cock. "Want me to fuck his cum right out of you baby?" He asked, pulling you up so he could kiss your swollen lips and the tears streaming down your cheeks. You nodded, scooting to sit back onto his lap, sinking down onto his cock. Between your own spit, wetness, and the cum spilling out there was no resistance. You gripped Leon's shoulders for support, and he held you by your hips helping you bounce.

"That's it baby, come on." Leon was already close from your throat and it took nearly all his willpower to not cream the second you sank down on him. "Doing so well, cum for me baby." He cooed as he used his grip on your hips to speed up your movements.

You were so close yourself that his words sent you over the edge, clamping down around him, legs shaking as you whined. "Oh, fuck." He said as his own orgasm ripped through him, finishing inside of you.

You flopped forward into his arms, exhausted. He rubbed your back softly while he came down from his own peak. "Such a good girl, took us both so well."

You shifted uneasily on his lap, your muscles aching from the sudden love-making and your earlier workout. Your legs were beginning to feel cramped and uncomfortable.

“Here baby, stretch out for me.” Chris said, helping you sit beside Leon. He wiped you down gently with your wash rag to clean you up, before he used his large hands to work the knots out of the muscles of your thighs, moving down your legs. It caused a dull ache at first before the pain disappeared completely, leaving you with jellied limbs. Your whole body felt heavy and your head was in and out of a relaxed twilight state.

You yawned, rubbing your eyes, entirely exhausted. The two men gently propped you up, as they assisted you into your clean clothes. As you waited for them to finish cleaning and changing into their garments, you absentmindedly used your gym bag as a pillow and dozed off until you felt someone picking you up.

The shifting of gravity caused your eyes to open again in a small panic. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.” Chris said softly. “Just taking you back to the Jeep so we can get you home and to bed.”

The slight breeze from the nighttime air felt nice against your skin as you were carried outside and buckled into your seat. Leon sat next to you, letting you lean against him while he gently played with your hair as Chris took up the driver’s seat. “What do you think Princess, wanna come to the gym more often with us now?” Leon asked softly.

“Mhm.” You answered, closing your eyes again, drifting off to sleep at the sound of the ignition starting.

#Leon Kennedy x Reader #Chris Redfield x Reader #Leon Kennedy x You #Chris Redfield x You #Chris Redfield #Leon Kennedy #Leon S Kennedy #Resident Evil #Resident Evil Fanfiction #RE4R #Reader Insert #Fanfiction #Leon Kennedy x Y/N #Chris Redfield x Y/N #Chris & Leon x Reader #Resident Evil Vendetta #Resident Evil 6

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 1 month

Text

Strawberry Shortcake

-M.S

Synopsis; You won’t deny it, you are a very attractive girl. You were now a senior in highschool, and everyone seemed to have their eyes on you- except one boy, who just so happens to be the one you want the most.

Pairing; Virgin!Nerd!Sub!Matt Sturniolo X Experienced!Dom!Fem reader

Warnings; Smut, mentions of sh scars!!!! unprotected p in v [don’t do that you silly willy.], oral (m & f receiving), foul language, praise kink, pet names (baby, sweet boy, sweetheart), mommy kink (im sorry.), bondage kink, choking, BD MATTTT‼️

“Now, the boys want a taste of the strawberry shortcake

Thats my bad, thats my bad, no one taught them not to grab

Now, the boys want a taste of the strawberry shortcake”

{3rd Person POV.}

As you strolled through your school’s halls, you noticed everyones’ eyes were on you. It was inevitable. They always were. Sure, you understood that you were attractive, but so attractive to the point everyone needed to stare at you? Not nearly, in your mind. It hadn’t necessarily bothered you, it was only when people began getting bold, did it bother you. Constantly being cat-called with disgusting remarks about your body, people calling you a whore, (even though you had three bodies, which was quite a bit for a senior, but not nearly as much as others in your grade.), and people even asking you out, and you didn’t even know them.

There was one boy, however, that you did have your eyes on. Matthew Sturniolo. A name not known to many besides teachers, his brothers Nick and Chris, and obviously you. You weren’t sure why you have always been so attracted to him. The one boy who never paid you any attention, the one that might not have even noticed you existed, was the one you want the most. Odd how that works.

Matthew always seemed to pay attention in class. Him being one of the very few kids actually participating in class, most- if not all- of his responses being correct. He was seemingly brilliant. You always caught yourself staring at him in class, but he didn’t notice, so you never cared to stop. You realized that when he concentrates so hard on writing all of his notes down, he looks down at his paper, scribbling what seemed like his entire world, yet complete and utter nonsense to you. His glasses always fell slightly down on his nose, his tongue poking out of his plush lips, his hair draping down into his face.

You had always wanted to approach the boy, yet you could never find the words to. This never seemed to be an issue with anyone else in the school, just Matthew. You thought of just upright asking him on a date, but he seems to be the type to not like going out much. You thought about asking him for a book recommendation, but then you would probably have to actually read the book. Also, not a good idea. However, there had been one idea that had stuck with you. A tutor.

You wouldn’t technically be lying if you tell him you need a tutor. You were borderline failing all of your classes. You weren’t trying to- you just simply didn’t understand, and whats the point of trying if you’re not gonna get it anyways? You’d decided to ask Matthew after class today.

The bell rang shortly after, and the whole class left, as they all packed up early. It was the last class of the day, so you couldn’t blame them. Not Matthew, though. He didn’t want to miss a second of the lecture. You found it adorable how much he listens. Hot, even.

“Hey! Matthew, right?” You asked, approaching his desk. He looked down at you, and nodded. You’ve never actually been this close to him, before. His sharp jawline and accentuated cheekbones, his light stubble and his piercing blue eyes. You also hadn’t quite realized how tall he was, either. Not the tallest boy you knew, but you were much shorter than he was. “I was wondering, do you like.. Do tutoring?” I asked shyly, and the boy tilted his head.

“I.. I mean,” He started. His voice was soft, but slightly deep. “I’m sure I could, if necessary.” He shrugged. You let a small smile form on your face.

“Well.. Um.. Do you think you could tutor me?” You gulped. You don’t remember the last time you’ve been this nervous around a guy. Its just the affect Matthew has on you.

“I.. Yeah, I guess so.” The boy shrugged. “Um.. When do you wanna.. start?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, his plain white short sleeve rolling up just the smallest bit, revealing a bit of black ink on his arm. Does he have tattoos that no one knows about?

“I’m free today, actually.. If that’s okay. We can go to the library?” I hummed. “Or my apartment, if you’re comfortable with that. I don’t live too far from here.” You offered, leaving the ultimate decision up to him, expecting him to choose the library.

“Well, it’s Friday. I’m sure there’s gonna be a lot of people in the library, and I don’t want to disturb them with us talking, so.. Your house, if thats okay?” He hummed, and your eyes widened. You were surprised that he agreed to your house, but not upset. Not upset at all. You could now have more ‘alone time’ with the boy.

“Yeah! We should probably hurry up, though. I don’t have my license yet, so I have to take the bus.” You spoke shyly, but he smiled. God, even his smile was amazing.

“No, don’t worry. I have my license, I can drive us.” He states, slipping his bag onto his shoulder, walking out of the classroom, leaving you to trail closely behind him. You figured Matthew would have his license, he seemed like the type. You jogged up to him, staying at his side. “I have to drop my brothers home first, if thats okay.” He states, more telling you than offering. You just nod.

You both made it to his car shortly after, and he offered you the front passenger seat, and he told you his brothers could sit in the back. You were the guest, after all. You both waited silently for his brothers to show up, and they eventually did. The slightly shorter boy with longer hair than Matthew and his other brother pulled the passenger door open, and his jaw dropped.

“No fuckin’ way.” He gaped, staring dead at you. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you quickly looked over at Matthew, whose face was bright red with embarrassment. “Matty! Ya finally pulling! Fuck yeah!” The boy laughed. Matty. Cute nickname.

“Shut up, Chris!” Matthew gasped, and you couldn’t help but giggle. Chris almost read your mind— probably not Matthew’s, though. The boy looked as if he’s never thought anything sexual in his life. “You’re so immature.” He scoffed.

“Aw, shut up. Don’t act like ya ain’t wanna hit that.” ‘Chris’ chuckled. “In the most respectful way, though,” Chris looked at you, smiling.

“Chris! Shut the fuck up! You’re so disrespectful!” Matthew grumbled, turning the key, the car starting. He swore. It was adorable.

“No- It’s okay. I’ve been called and told far worse.” You shook your head, reassuring both boys.

“Oh. ‘M sorry to hear that.” Chris frowned. “I hate people who degrade woman. Fuckin’ dickheads for real.” Chris scoffs.

“Yeah. I know.” I hum in agreement.

“Chris, get the fuck back here before you embarrass Matt even more than you already have. Look at the kid, for Christ’s sake!” The boy who was already in the back scolded. Both Chris and I peered over at Matthew, who’s eyes widened.

“No! Don’t look at me!” He whines, quickly turning to face the window. Chris chuckles, and shuts the door, heading to the back.

“It’s okay, Matthew. I think you’re hot, if it helps.” You shrugged, and the boy in the back fake gagged, and Matthew shot back around to stare at you.

“Hot?” He repeats. He acts like no one has ever called him hot before. It is a possibility, though. Matt was attractive as fuck, most people just chose not to compliment him, though, because he didn’t talk much. They call the poor kid a weirdo. You don’t think he is, though.

“Yeah.” You nod, and Matthew smiles.

“Just call him Matt. Matthew sounds too formal.” The boy spoke up, as Chris got into the car.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Nick. Always complaining about something.” Chris groans, buckling his seatbelt as the car began to move. The boys home wasn’t far from the school at all, so its not too far out of the way to your home. The boys teased Matt about going to my house, claiming that Matt was gonna get laid. Hopefully it was true.

“It’s that one,” You announce, pointing to a large building on left. Matt nods as he pulls into the large parking lot, which wasn’t very full. You led him to your apartment, digging in your pockets for your keys.

You lived alone, unlike most other seniors. All though they were eighteen, they didn’t have jobs or such, but you did. Your parents allowed you to move out when you were seventeen, and you’ve been doing just fine since. You pushed the door open, and walked in, kicking your shoes off, Matt doing the same.

“It’s.. nice, here.” He complimented; and you offered a bright smile. You usually did try to keep your place tidy, since it was only you, if you kept it clean, it’s the less cleaning you have to do overall.

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch,” You spoke, gesturing to the couch with a nice wooden coffee table in-front of it. “Want anything to drink?” You asked, but Matt shook his head.

“No, thank you.” Matt spoke, pulling out the math homework your teacher had assigned you. You made your way back over to Matt, sitting beside him.

Matt shortly after began his lecture, and if you were being completely honest, you actually caught onto some of it. Not most of it, just a little bit. But it was more than what you had understood from before. You knew that the math thing wasn’t what you cared about, though. Plus, knowing Matt, he’d never make the first move.

“I’m getting hot, i’m gonna go change real quick.” You announce, heading to your room. You weren’t hot. You were wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which in your opinion wasn’t revealing enough. You wanted Matt to make it obvious he wanted you before you tried to do anything. You don’t want to embarrass yourself. Once you get into your room, you rummage through your clothes. You finally found something that would do perfectly. Small cut shorts, that used to be sweatpants, and a tight cropped t-shirt. You went for more of a ‘casual’ look, so Matt wouldn’t get suspicious. You slipped your shirt and bra off, sliding the crop top on over your body, accentuating your curves and tits.

You found a pair of black lace panties, that didn’t do their job of covering you very well. You slip those on, and then slip the shorts on over them. You felt satisfied with your outfit choice, and you hoped Matt did too.

You made your way to the couch again, and as you looked over to Matt, he looked up at you. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and you could see his adams apple bob, his face turning the slightest shade of pink.

“Um.. R-ready?” He asked, and you nod, sitting next to him on the couch. You were so close, his leg brushed yours, but neither of you moved. “U-um.. So this-“ He said pointing at a random equation. “This is..” He sighed.

“Thats not the one we left off on, Matt.” You state, and he lets out a deep breath. “You don’t look so hot. Are you okay?” You hum, placing your hand on his shoulder, leaning forwards, giving him a glimpse of your tits. He glanced over, his eyes glued to your tits. “Eyes up here, Matty.” You giggled, grabbing his chin, making him look you in the eyes. His entire face was bright red.

“I-I’m sorry, ‘m so so so sorry-“ Matt whined. “I-I don’t know why I did that! Fuck! I-I just-“ Matt panicked. You took this opportunity to press your lips on his, immediately shutting the boy up. Matt seemed hesitant, but slightly kissed back until you pulled away.

“You’re okay, Matt.” You state, and Matt nods with wide eyes. “Did you not like that? I’m sorry,” I started but Matt shook his head.

“No! I mean.. I’ve just never.. done it before..?” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Sure. you figured Matt was a virgin, but surely he’s kissed someone before.. right?

“You mean you’ve never kissed someone before?” You questioned, and he nodded.

“Oh god… please don’t think i’m weird!” Matt pleads, and you let out a small giggle.

“You’re adorable, Matt. Why would I think you’re weird? You do know why I actually brought you here.. Right?” I asked.

“Oh- yeah. Sorry.” He states, slowly turning to face the paper again.

“No, Matt. I didn’t invite you here for that.” You hum, taking his hand. You slowly and gently place it on one of your tits, and Matt gasps and closes his eyes. You let out a small laugh at this action. “Open up, Matty. You’re okay.” He does as you say, and looks at you, wide-eyed, and mouth slightly parted.

“I..” He gulps. You could tell the boy obviously had no clue what he was doing. You knew you’d have to take lead, which was no issue to you at all.

You place your hands on his chest, pushing him back on the couch.

“Is this okay?” I asked, waiting for his response before moving on.

“Y-yes..” He nodded.

“Good boy.” You praise, and the boy whined. His sounds were euphoric to you. You straddled the boys’ lap, and his hands hovered over your hips, not touching you yet. “You can touch, baby. ‘S okay. I’m yours.” You reassure, before placing soft open mouthed kisses along the boys neck.

His head tilted backwards, allowing you more space on his neck. His hands gripped at your waist, having no other idea where to put them. You rolled your hips on his crotch, and he let out a high pitched, almost feminine, moan. You continued to kiss along his neck, rolling your hips on him, the boys’ grip tightened and loosened on your waist, as you pulled away from his neck, admiring the purple marks you had left on his neck.

“P-Please; I need you,” Matt whines, and you feel his throbbing cock through his sweats and boxers. You could tell he was big.

“It’s okay, sweet boy. Let me take my time.” You hush, and he pouts.

“Need you now,” He whimpers, and you shake your head in disapproval.

“So needy. Can’t even wait.” You scold. “Maybe, we should just continue with our lesson if you aren’t gonna have manners, hm?” You shrug, slowly removing yourself off of his lap.

“N-no! Please, mom..” He cuts himself off, throwing his hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

“What was that, sweetheart?” You hum, and Matt shakes his head. “What did you say, Matthew. Be a good boy and tell me.” You demand, gently but firmly placing your hand around his throat.

“Please, mommy. Please, I need you,” He begged, and your core throbbed. You sigh, before speaking again.

“Okay, sweet boy.” You nod, your hands resting on his waistband.

“Wait- I want to make you feel good,” He offers. How could you pass up something like that?

“Yeah? And how do you suppose you do that, Matty.” You tilt your head, stilling your movements.

“Can.. Can you sit on my face..?” He asks quietly. “Please..” He eyes your body up and down again, before looking away, seeming ashamed of himself.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” You hum, and he nods eagerly, letting himself look back at you.

“Yes! Please, mommy.. I wanna make you feel good,” He whines. You nod, standing up, slipping your shorts off, leaving yourself in your lace panties, which hardly did their job of covering you up. “I… I’ve never done something like this before, so.. let me know if im doing anything wrong..” Matt whispers slightly ashamed of himself.

“Okay, Matty. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” I reassured him, before crawling back onto the bed, this time positioning myself over his face instead of his lap.

“Please sit, mommy,” He pleaded, and you smiled and gave him what he wanted. His tongue found it’s way between your folds, his lips wrapping around your clit.

“Oh- fuck! Good boy, you’re such a g-good boy!” You moaned out. For this being Matt’s first time at anything intimate, he was fucking amazing. The way his hands grabbed at your thighs gently, almost unsure of them being there, and the way the frames of his glasses rubbed against your inner thighs as he shook his head vigorously was driving you mad.

Matt whined at the praise, the delicious sound sending vibrations through your body. How the fuck was he so good at this? Does he watch porn all the time like a bad boy? Did he have his brother teach him? His brother was clearly a fuck boy.

“Oh, god, Matty.. Fuck-“ You panted, your stomach clenching. “Fuck,” You whined, “G-gonna make me cum,” You warned, and he let out a small whine. You felt yourself release on the boys tongue as his nose brushed perfectly over your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You began to stand up, but Matt pulled you back down onto his face, allowing himself to lap up your juices. You let out a small hiss, and he immediately lifted you off of him.

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, ‘m sorry,” He apologized quickly, his hands gently massaging your hips.

“No, you’re okay sweet boy. It wasn’t your fault, I just got a little overstimulated,” You run your hand through his soft hair reassuringly. He leaned his head into your touch, and you admired the way his glasses were slightly fogged up, your juices dripping down his chin. “You’re so pretty..” You hum, your hands slipping up his shirt. “Can I take this off, pretty boy?” You asked, gesturing to his shirt. He hesitated, before nodding.

You slowly lifted his shirt off, admiring his body. He was perfect, to you. You slipped his shirt off, over his head, and tossed it elsewhere in the room. Thats when you notice the tattoo you had seen earlier. It was on his inner bicep, and you admired it closely. It was a ‘N’ and ‘C’. Initials. Thats when you noticed something else. It was placed over scars, that Matt had done himself. Your heart sank; when you realized what they were from. You didn’t point it out, though. The tattoo must’ve been for his brothers, Nick and Chris.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” You hum, looking back at his face. When you said that, you saw all the worry leave his face. You leaned forwards, placing kisses on his collarbone, matching the ones you had left on his neck.

“Please.. Wanna see you,” The boy whimpered, and you pulled away from his collarbone, wasting no time slipping your own shirt off. This left you in your bra, shorts, and panties. “You’re so pretty, mommy.” The boy complimented, leaning forwards to kiss you.

You leaned into the kiss, slowly pulling his pants down, making sure to leave his boxers on him.

“Please—“ He whined, pulling away from the kiss. “I need you.” He hummed, and you let out a small giggle.

“Patience, baby.” You tutted, and the boy squirmed.

“No!” Matt cried out, slipping his own boxers off quickly. “Now!” Matt demanded, his voice loud, yet still submissive.

“Matthew!” You growl. “Stay put, and don’t fucking touch yourself. Got it?” You demanded more than asked, and his eyes widened.

“I— I’m sorry mommy, I-I didn’t mean to!” He wails, but you ignore his cries. You walked out of the living room, heading to your room. You rummage through your bedside drawer, pulling out three long strips of lace, perfect for what you need them for.

You walk back out to the living room, seeing Matt on your couch. You eyes widened and you stopped your movements. Matt was completely naked, rubbing his cock against your couch slowly, your shirt in his mouth stifling his moans and whines, his eyes shut tightly with tears rolling down his face. It was now when you realized how big he was. What a shame that he was keeping something so pretty away from everyone.

“Matthew!” You gasped, acting as if you had just walked in. “You’re such a dirty boy. How pathetic.” You scoff lowly, walking towards the boy. Hs eyes were now wide open, his movements stilled. He took your shirt out of his mouth, quickly covering his cock with it, insecure of the way you were commenting on him.

“‘M sorry! I wasn’t touching myself, mommy!” He whined. “I-I just need to…” He trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

“Thats still bad, Matthew. I thought you said you were a good boy?” You shook your head. “Sit up, hands behind your back.” You demanded, and Matt looked as if he were about to cry.

“N-no, please! I am your good boy! I-I promise! P-please..!” He cried out, but you shook your head.

“Good boys don’t do that, Matthew. Up.” I demanded once more, and he reluctantly listened, slowly sitting up, putting his hands behind his back.

“I’m sorry, mommy. ‘M really sorry..” He whined the entire time you tied his hands up. Once you were done, you laid him back down, moving down to his legs. You tightly tied them to the coffee table right at the end of the couch, so he couldn’t pull out of the restraints, but it wasn’t hurting him.

“Now you’re gonna have to hold still, hm?” You teased, walking along the couch, scraping your nails gently along his body, making sure to run them up his cock and back down. The boy was holding in his breath as to not moan already, at the slightest touch. You let out a small sigh, brushing the hair out of his face. “Such a shame you were a bad boy and now you have to be tied up.. I could’ve let you touch me..” You shake your head in disappointment, moving back down by his cock, before getting on the couch.

“I-I’m sorry, mommy.. Wanna touch you s’bad,” He cried, and you lick your lips, staring at his cock in awe. Out of the three others you had seen, Matts’ was by far the prettiest and the biggest.

“I know, pretty boy.. I want you to touch me, too, but you were naughty..” You tutted, and Matts’ jolted the second you rubbed your fingers gently over his tip. You leaned down, licking the vein along the underside of his cock.

“Oh! Fuck!” He yells out, squirming below your touch.

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” You tease, and the boy eagerly nods.

“Y-yes! Fuck, yes!” He yells out as you take his tip abruptly in your mouth. “Oh god,” He whimpers, as you swirl your tongue, collecting the salty precum, licking his slit. His stomach flexed and his back arched slightly. You knew this was his first time, so he obviously wouldn’t last long.

You slowly took the rest of him in your mouth, the boy’s hips sputtering, not thrusting though because of the restraints. You bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tongue around his warm wet cock, humming around him.

“F-fuck, mommy! I-I need to cum!” He warned, but to his surprise, you pulled off. “N-No! Please!” He wailed attempting to squirm out of the restraints, and you shook your head.

“This is what you get for not listening.” You explain, and he pouts, feeling his much needed release slowly fade away.

“Please…” He whines, and you move to hover yourself over him.

“Tell me if you want to stop, okay, baby?” You reassure, placing your hand on his cheek. “I’ll stop immediately.” I speak softly.

“O-okay.. Please..” He nodded, letting out a shaky breath. You began to lower yourself down onto him, sliding his tip into your wet cunt, causing the boy to attempt to buck his hips up. “Fuck, mommy!” He yells, his back arching and his eyes squeezing shut, as you took him deeper, bottoming out.

“Fuck, baby- filling me up so well,” You moaned out, beginning to bounce up and down on his cock slowly. He tried lifting his legs, but the lace ropes were not allowing him to. He let out loud moans and whines, hearing his sweet noises were beautiful. His legs began to shake as you rutted your hips against him, your clit brushing against him each time you threw yourself down.

“I-I- please, mommy! I need to cum..!” He cried out, and you leaned forwards, gripping his shoulders tightly, your boobs falling in his face. He took this opportunity to take your tit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipple.

“G-Good boy, Matty!” You praise, and Matt lets a loud whine out as you clench around him. He came, but he felt bad for cumming without your permission. Even though you wanted to yell at him for it, you were too focused on how good you felt as you were fucking him, his face scrunched up in pleasure, as he licked at your tits.

You slow your movements as you let yourself go on his cock, letting a loud moan out in the process. You slowly pull off, immediatly plopping down on Matt. He let out a deep breath, placing open mouthed kisses to your neck, matching the deep marks he had on his.

A few minutes of you catching your breath and Matt sucking and biting at your neck, he pulled away. He began to stand up, and your heart dropped. You don’t want him to leave. You wanted to fuck him, sure, but you want him too. In more ways than just sex. You reached out to grab his wrist, stopping him from moving, causing him to turn to look at you.

“Please don’t leave,” You pleaded shyly, and he smiled. He leaned forwards, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“I wasn’t planning on it, darling. I’ll be right back.” He states. He then begins walking down the only hallway you had in your house, before turning to walk into the bathroom. You laid flat on your back. waiting for Matt to return, which he did soon after. He had a wet rag in his hand, which he used to gently wipe you down with. He then wipes himself down, and grabs your panties, slipping them back on for you, and rummaging through his backpack.

He pulled out a hoodie that he must’ve kept in there, and slid it on you. It smelled like him, bringing you comfort. He slipped his own boxers on, before picking you up gently into his arms. He begins walking down the same hallway he was down moments before, peaking into all the doorways to figure out which room was yours.

He finally found it, and placed you down gently on your bed.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He states, before exiting your room. You cuddled into the hoodie, pulling your soft blanket over you. Matt came back, moments later, your phone and his charger in one hand, and his phone in the other, which he held up to his ear. “I’m stayin’ the night here tonight, so have ma drive you and Nick to school tomorrow, kay?” He asked into the phone. He waited a minute, before scoffing and hanging up. “They keep makin’ jokes about me gettin’ laid.” Matt shakes his head, and you giggle immaturely.

“To be fair, they are telling the truth,” You shrug, and he lets out a small sigh, before plugging his phone in and crawling into the bed besides you. “Good luck at school tomorrow with them.” You joke, and his eyebrows furrow.

“Hm?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I marked ya up, pretty good.” You hum, and Matt’s eyes widen.

“Oh.. well, it’s okay. At least they’ll know im your man, and your my girl.” He smirked, gesturing to the same marks you had on your neck.

“My man? Your girl?” You teased.

“Yeah? Are ya not my girl?” He asked, but you shook your head, placing a kiss to his lips.

“Only yours.” You state proudly, tucking yourself into his body.

“Now, the boys want a taste of the strawberry shortcake

Thats my bad, thats my bad, no one taught them not to grab

Now, the boys want a taste of the strawberry shortcake”

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @75sturn @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #sub matt sturniolo

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deansapplepie · 6 months

Text

Everything with you, everything from you

Summary: Daryl and you always loved each other, neither of you acting on your feelings and him always scaring all the men that had interest on you. That is until you can’t take it anymore.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

Era: Commonwealth

Genre: Smut, Romance

Warnings: NSFW, smut (there’s a small plot), sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids), creampie, Subish Daryl, Subish Reader, Sweet Dirty Talk, Swearing, Age Gap (everybody is of age, but Daryl’s concerned somehow. Reader is on her 30s and Daryl on his 50s). 18+ Minors, please do not interact.

Word count: 5,505

A/N: English is not my first language so it may contain errors, even though I proofread it. It’s lightly implied reader is plus size, but everyone can read because it’s just small hints of it.

Masterlist

You were infuriated.

He infuriated you in the same amount he made your heart beat faster because of him.

It had been years of the damn apocalypse, years that you met him, years that your mom died and let you alone. It had been years since he became your best friend, protector and trainer. He taught you many things. He taught you how to fight, hunt and track. He also taught you about love, but he didn’t know it or he fakes he didn’t make you fall in love with him all those years ago.

It first started as a silly crush, when the world ended you were so young… you were in your first years of college when it all happened. You and your mom had become close with the Dixons at the quarry, Merle was a dick, but your mom made him respect both of you, as much as he could. Daryl… was Daryl, he was quiet and grumpy, but he was gentle and caring on his own way. Your mom’s origins wasn’t very different from the two rednecks, so she was able to understand them and where they came from, you were lucky that her and your dad could give you a better life. When the quarry was attacked by walkers and you mom got bitten and died, he was everything you had.

Still today, even with your big found family, you and him were like a package, you even shared an apartment at the Commonwealth and raised Judith and RJ together while Michonne and Rick were away. But your package… this package never included a relationship with him. You were on your 30s already, no boyfriend, no relationship and you couldn’t even blame yourself, guys did come to you and wanted to flirt with you, make plans with you… but he… he always ruined everything. He’d scare the men or make it impossible for you to go out with any of them. In the beginning, you thought it was ok, he was just worried, you were young and you were all still careful about people outside of your small circle. Then you started to think he also felt something for you and it made your heart beat fast and butterflies fly on your stomach. He never acted, he never did anything, and honestly you were tired of waiting for him, you were tired of being alone, you wanted to live just like everyone else. Have someone to hold hands, cuddle, have some physical contact and make plans for your crazy uncertain future.

You entered your shared apartment after him and knowing the kids were on a slumber party at Aaron’s, you closed the door with all the strength you had.

“Wha’ was that for?!” He stopped on his tracks and turned to you. He knew what it was for, He was just playing dumb.

“What was that for?” You sarcastically repeated his question. “Why do you have to ruin all my chances of going on a date with someone?”

“That guy’s a prick.” He leaned on the counter of the kitchen.

“Funny, ‘cause every guy that has some interest on me is a prick for you.” You took some cold water from the fridge, maybe it was going to help you calming down.

“Not my problem you’ve got a bad taste in man.” He picked an apple from the tray and started eating it nonchalantly.

You looked at him, more specifically at the back of his head that you could see from where you were at the kitchen, he felt that soon your stare was going to make a hole on his head, but he tried to fake normalcy. “Yeah, I think I really got a bad taste in man. But apparently that’s your problem since you can’t let any of them get close to me.”

“Why do you keep doing that, Daryl?” You asked, honestly, and he turned to look at you.

“Tomorrow, we have family game night. It’s important.” He said, and that was what he had just said to Jake the guy from your work that asked you to go out on Saturday.

“And I can’t miss it one week?” He was full of bullshit when he wanted to. “What about Sunday? Why did you say I couldn’t on Sunday?”

“Because… I don’t like him.” You rolled your eyes. You walked to the other side of the counter, one hand on it and the other on your waist.

“You don’t need to, I’m the one that has to like him.” You blurted out. You were tired incredibly tired of that sick silly game of his.

“I…” you didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t want to be alone, Daryl. Nobody comes close to me because of you. If you feel anything for me, grow some balls and do something about it, or stop getting on my way.”

The following seconds were a blur, in one moment you were feet apart and in the next you were being lifted to sit on the counter, Daryl between your legs and his lips crushing against yours. A hot messy hungry kiss on your lips, for a brief moment you were surprised, but then you closed your eyes and just let yourself enjoy the moment, take this once in a lifetime opportunity that you have been waiting for years. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your hands tangled and tugging on his hair. You kissed him back with the same enthusiasm and eagerness, you had dreamed about this for so long. His left hand was on your lower back and the right one was holding a handful of your thighs, your thick delicious thighs that he wanted for so long. You tugged a little harsher on his hair eliciting a groan from him, he pulled you against his body and you could feel his hard on, knowing it was all for you. He gave open mouthed kisses on your jaw and descended to your neck, making you grind yourself against him and a loud moan come from you.

And he stopped.

He simply stopped and pushed himself away from you.

“Fuck.” He said as reality hit him, or what felt like reality for him. “I shouldn’t have done this I…”

“Funny, ‘cause your hard dick says otherwise.” You said still sitting on the counter, cheeks blushed, lips plump and all the tension that had gone threatening to come back. “I’m not complaining Daryl, actually it’s the opposite. So why would it be a mistake?”

“This isn’t right. Ya’re younger than me. Shit… ya could be my daughter.” He said, hand on his forehead, the other on his face.

“Unless you fucked my mom, and I don’t know. There are zero chances of you being my dad.” You tried reasoning with him, was it what he was thinking all this time and not acting on it?

“Ya understand what I said. Ya’re way younger. I’m on my 50s and you on your 30s it’s… it’s not…”

“Right?” You asked. “Is it wrong that 2 consenting adults want each other? I’m not a kid anymore, you just said I’m on my thirties. When we met each other maybe it could have been messed up, I mean I was young and naïve, but still of age. But now? You really want to put the age gap talking on me?”

“Didn’t say ya’re a kid.” He retorted trying to not look at you since your flustered image wouldn’t help him controlling himself.

“If you don’t, it doesn’t make any sense thinking that what happened right now was a mistake.” You jumped from the counter and put yourself in front of him. “What is it? Are you attracted to me but is ashamed of me? Am I not beautiful enough? Not thin enough?”

“I ain’t this shallow, Y/N.” He looked at you, and it broke him seeing hurt and self doubt all over you. “I made a promise to your mother, before she died that night in the quarry. I promised I’d protect you…”

“And you did. I don’t need your protection anymore, you taught me how to defend myself. I don’t even need you to eat, I can hunt my own food if needed. So you’re free you from this burden, I should have never been your responsibility.” You were so angry at that moment tears on your eyes threatening to fall down, his promise should have nothing to do with it. “Well. Fuck. So here’s the thing, if you’re not taking me, acting on your feelings or whatever, Stop hindering other people to do so! I’m not gonna wait on you my whole life and be unhappy just because you’re so close minded.” The words left your mouth like the water flowing from a broken dam. You took your bag again and headed to the door.

“Where are ya going?” He asked before you could leave.

“I don’t know. Gonna decide once I leave. Don’t wait for me. I’m not coming back for game night, tell the kids I’m sorry.” You opened the door and left, no looking back.

He stayed there for a moment staring at the door, he had just let you go. He had you on his arms, just like he dreamed many times and he threw it away, he didn’t do all the things he wanted to do to you. He didn’t showed you how much you meant to him, he just pushed you away and probably lost you, not only on the ways he wanted to have you, but probably also as a friend. He was stuck, desperate and helpless, he didn’t know what to do now that you were gone.

When you left the apartment, you didn’t know where exactly you were going. Now, you had two possibilities. You could go to Carol’s she was your friend, but she was also his friend and he would want to go to her and you would lose your moment with her. So instead, you decided going to Rosita’s, they worked together, but he would not look for her to vent about everything and he knew Rosita would kick his ass if he went there looking for you, or at least you thought so. A plus was, you could also use Coco cuteness to calm and warm your heart, since your kids were not around.

When you knocked at Rosita’s door she wasn’t expecting to see you, and right when she saw you she brought you inside and put you on a tight hug. You had watery eyes and when your friend embraced you so kindly you couldn’t control the tears anymore and let them roll.

“What happened babe?” She asked sitting on the sofa with you and holding your hands. “Who hurt you? Was it Daryl? Want me to kick his ass?”

“He ruined my chances to go on a date, again. We fought at home. We kissed and…” Rosita didn’t let you finish given the new information that was something you never said before when you complained about the archer.

“Wow, slow down. What? You kissed? So why are you here crying?” She truly needed to understand, she knew there was probably more to it, but she couldn’t hold herself when you mentioned kissing.

“Yes, and it was the best kiss of my life. But it doesn’t matter, he ruined everything. When it was getting heated, he simply pushed away from me and said everything was a mistake.” You said, the angry feeling about all the happenings coming again to your mind.

“Oh, he didn’t!”

“Yes, he did. He says I’m too young for him. He’s…ridiculous!” You wanted to pull out your hair, he was making you crazy. “I hate him!”

“You don’t hun…” Rosita pulled you for another hug and you just rested your head on her shoulders.

“I… I think I’m giving up Rosi… I can’t keep losing time like that.” You had already lost so much, not that he ever made it easy for you to know other people and find someone, but maybe you should have imposed yourself many years ago and things wouldn’t have gotten so bad like now.

Daryl couldn’t stay at home. The silence there without you were deafening, he left the apartment and went to the only place he knew he could find some solace if it wasn’t with you. He knocked on the door and waited for the answer. He wasn’t expecting for this person to get the door.

“Hey, Daryl! Is everything, ok? You look terrible.” Ezekiel told the hunter while holding the door.

“I… I didn’t know ya were here. I’m sorry, dun wanna to spoil yer moment.” Daryl scratched his neck nervously.

“Nah, you’re not disturbing. Come in, Carol and I were just having dinner and talking.” The former king invited him in.

He entered the apartment and ended at the table opening his heart to Carol and Ezekiel about everything that happened. Carol listened to everything in silence, but she already knew everything she needed to know.

“You know she’s right, don’t you?” Carol said when Daryl stopped telling them everything.

“I dunno if she’s right.” He stubbornly answered.

“You’ve liked her since when? The farm? And she also liked you for a long time and you already knew that.” Carol told the obvious, but at the moment she felt like she needed to draw for the observant and smart archer.

“Since the quarry.” He mumbled.

“Ok, since the quarry. Whatever. Even earlier and you still act like you shouldn’t be together because of your 20 years difference or something.” Sincerely she thought both of you would have it sorted out a long time ago. “She’s not a little girl and you’re also not a little boy, so stop acting like one.”

“Daryl, love’s something so rare in the world we live in. You shouldn’t let some prejudice like this prevent you from being happy with the person you love.” Ezekiel spoke for the first time, he was careful with his words.

“I ruined everything already.” He took a deep breath. Damn. The way you looked at him, he felt like the biggest asshole in the world, keeping you away from happiness but also didn’t acting on both of your feelings.

“You can still do things right. You just need to quit this nonsense about age. She’s a good heart, and I know she’ll forgive you if you talk to her.” Carol felt like she needed to grab both of your hands and guide you through this like two kids, or you would stay in this cycle forever. “She forgave when you left with Merle, all the times you lied to keep her safe and I’m pretty sure she forgave you for all the years you stayed out there coming and going to look for Rick, and you ended up with Leah, you and Y/N weren’t anything other than friends, but don’t you think it hurt her while she loved and couldn’t have you? She wouldn’t be around if she didn’t forgive you.”

He didn’t say anything, he looked down and started to chew on his thumb, an old habit of his when he was anxious.

“Now, I know it will sound cliché and cheesy, but forget all this shit and follow your heart. Go find her.” She gave a small squeeze on the archer’s hand and have him an encouraging smile.

“Do you have any idea where she could be?” Ezekiel asked.

“Maybe. I hope she’s there and not going after that fucking prick.” He answered, jealous rising when he remembered your colleague asking you out earlier. “Thanks, gonna see if I find her. If not I’ll just need to wait for her.” He got up and was ready to leave.

“Go get her pookie! If you need some extra time I don’t mind taking the kids and having game night with them here.” Carol said taking Daryl to the door. “If you both don’t solve this, I’m going to kick both of your dumb asses.” She completed.

He walked on the corridors of the old building following the path he already knew by heart, whenever he’d not find you, he knew you would be there. He was nervous, it could go all kinds of wrong, but he needed to try if he still had a chance. He stopped in front of the door and took some breaths before knocking on it.

You were at Rosita’s kitchen preparing some pasta for both of you to eat when Coco started to cry and she had go look after the baby. In that specific moment you heard a knock on the door. “Can you answer it, Y/N? It’s probably Eugene or Gabe.” Rosita said already with Coco in her arms.

“Yes, of course.” You lowered the fire you were using to cook the sauce and went to the door, opening it without even looking who it was. When you opened you met the last and first person you wanted to see at the moment, damn your lovesickness for him. You were just going to shut the door right at his face, even though the house wasn’t yours, but he was faster and held the door. “What do you want? I told you to not wait for me.” You tried to sound monotone, but you were pretty sure you sounded angry.

“Ya didn’t say anything about coming after ya. I want ya, that’s what I want. I’ve always wanted ya, and I’ve been an idiot trying to deny it. We’re both adults and I was being stubborn and dumb about it. I love you and…” he stopped to catch a breath since he hadn’t breathed since he started talking. “…I’m incredibly sorry. Please forgive me, and come home with me.”

“Daryl, I love you too. You know I love you. If you go back on your words…” you started to say, your voice shaken with emotion, but was interrupted.

“I won’t. I promise.” He took your hand in his and looked at your eyes. “Let’s get home and make things right.”

“Go girlie! Grab your man!” Rosita shouted from behind and you had almost forgot she was there. Daryl had ignored it completely just now being aware of opening his heart to you in front of Rosita, and Coco.

“I’m going er… Can you just wait a minute? I’m finishing dinner for Rosi. As you can see, she’s a little busy with Coco.” You said going back to the stove and checking if the sauce was good.

While you finished the dinner for Rosita he sat on the sofa near Rosita and the baby, and they talked about something you couldn’t hear from the kitchen. You considered you must be dreaming, this moment couldn’t be real, but you just burnt your pinkie on the pan and it hurt like a bitch, so you were definitely not sleeping.

When you finished you told Rosita it was ready, you gave her a warm hug and you kissed Coco goodbye. You left the apartment with Daryl following you and soon his hand engulfed yours and you could swear you were in heaven, you felt all flustered. Daryl was no different, he was a blushing mess from his cheeks to his ears. His mouth a thin line, his lips pressed against each other trying to contain the smile that wanted to come out.

Once you got home you opened the door and entered first, you waited for Daryl to lock the door and when he turned to you… You attacked him, you crushed your lips and body against him pressing him against the door. Daryl wasn’t going to lie that he didn’t want that to happen, he wanted that a lot, but he wasn’t expecting you’d like to engage in such activities so soon. He had imagined maybe cuddling with you on sofa or bed, talking about you or making dinner together. But he wasn’t going to sign a complaint, he was more than fine with your choice for your first night as a couple.

He quickly kissed you back, his hands coming to your back sliding on it and ending on your butt which he grabbed and pulled your body against his. You gasped in surprise and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, your hands were on his nape and on his hair tugging at it and scratching his scalp. You felt his erection against your belly and you couldn’t resist but slip your hand down his body and touch it, earning a groan from him. It was so hard and by the outline you could see it was thick too. You just couldn’t wait to feel and taste his cock, you unbuckled his belt and worked on the zipper opening his pants.

You shoved your hand inside of his pants now groping his dick with only the thin layer of his boxers separating your hand from touching it skin to skin. He threw his head back leaning on the door, groans and grunts escaping his lips.

“Do you like it Daryl?” You asked your eyes on his face registering all of his reactions on your memory.

“Yeah, a lot… ugh…” The way he was at your mercy was so delicious that you couldn’t contain yourself into teasing him.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” Your hand went up a little, your thumb holding on his waistband.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna be good. All for ya… Anything for ya…” he answered, his eyes closed his mouth agape and a little sweat on his temple.

“Good, so I’m gonna take good care of you. Ok?” You said while you pushed his boxers down with his trousers letting his dick spring free from it looking deliciously glorious. You took it in your hand, pumping it, playing with it… gods… your mouth was watering. “It’s this hard for me baby?”

“Yeah, always this hard fer ya.” He nodded, a groan escaping his lips at each different touch on him.

You got to your knees and he wasn’t expecting this, this wasn’t like he imagined your first time together to be, but again, he wasn’t complaining, he’d take everything you wanted to give him and you’d have more time to do it in all the ways you could and wanted.

You pumped his cock a little bit more and before giving it all of your attention you gave a delicate kiss on his balls. “Oh, fuck…” he hissed, goddamn how did you come so boldly like this? You licked them, your hand never stopping pumping his shaft and your eyes never living his face. Now he looked at you he wanted to watch you with the face of an angel work sinfully with your mouth. You started sucking on his balls making him moan and god, it was delicious hearing him moaning. You sucked both sides of it and just by doing it you had already a pool in your panties. Not that you wanted any other man, but after this you’d want to only suck his dick.

Your mouth left his balls and went to the base of his cock, giving open mouth kisses while your hand would wipe its head. You put both of your hands on his firm thighs and licked all along his shaft. “Damn! How can ya do it so well, angel?” He hissed, hands flattened on the door and the wall.

“You cockblocked me all those years, but at least I had some fun before the world ended.” You said before kissing the tip of his dick, just to put it in your mouth and swirl your tongue on it.

He wanted to throw a sassy remark at you, but at this point his brain couldn’t formulate anything coherent so he decided to just appreciate what you were giving him. One of his hands went to your head massaging your scalp while the other continued supporting him on the wall, it was so good that he felt like he would fall. You’d take little by little, more and more of him while you hummed on it at how it tasted deliciously like Daryl and his pre cum. You started bobbing your head up and down, going further and further, his moans and his hand on your head encouraging you to continue and when he alerted he was about to cum you slowed a bit, you wanted it on the top of your tongue, you wanted to fully taste and savor him. You touched his balls while sucking him and soon he was shooting his seed inside your mouth while he grunted and moaned your name. You swallowed every drop of it, not wasting anything.

“Tasty…” You wiped your mouth and he brought you from your knees to stand up.

His lips crashed immediately on yours, changing positions and pressing you against the wall. His taste on your lips and on your tongue making him taste himself on your mouth. He kicked his pants and boxers like he could without breaking your kiss, still wearing his boots, but now his legs were free to move. He lifted you from the floor and you got the cue to put your legs around his waist, her urged you to take your shirt off and took a moment to kiss your neck, shoulders and collar bones.

He started to walk, taking you to his room and you couldn’t care less as you took this time to kiss, nibble and suck on his neck. He threw you on his bed and took his boots off frantically, you were on your elbows observing him as he took your shoes off and threw them anywhere in the room. You observed him only using a black sweater, bare legs and his cock that you had sucked the life of a few minutes ago was already standing proudly. You licked your lips and he didn’t let it pass, having a smirk on his face.

He came back to you hovering you on the bed in between your legs, taking your lips one more time while his hand travelled down your body palming your covered bra. His hand went to your back and how he was able to open it so easily was a mystery to both of you. He massaged your breasts with both hands giving slight pinches on your erected nipples taking moans from you. His mouth came to your left breast while his hand took care of the other and his other hand descended to work on opening your jeans.

Once your pants were open he pulled them from your body taking your panties too. God, there was too many layers he needed to have you. He came back with his mouth to give the same attention to your right breast while his hand covered your wet covered pussy.

“Is this by just sucking my cock?” He took his mouth from your breast spit slipping from his mouth. “I barely played with ya.”

His fingers slipped between your folds making you whimper. “Princess, I made ya a question. Don’t ya wanna be a good girl and answer?” He watched you, observing every reaction you had. His thumb touching your clit and circling it, a cry leaving your lips.

“Yeah… it’s because of your cock.” You replied breathlessly. “It’s so delicious… ugh…” One finger slid inside your cunt.

“Are ya my good girl?” Husky voice, his finger pumping in and out of you.

“Yeah…” A second finger went inside of you. “Ugh… Dar…”

“And who d’ya belong to?” He asked finger fucking you, a lick to your neck savoring you and sweat.

“You… I’m yours…” Your hips bucked onto his fingers. He started scissoring, his thumb pressed on your clit.

“Whose pussy is this, hugh?” You were a trembling moaning mess, your cunt clenching around his fingers.

Damn. You were close. “Daryl’s! It’s yours…” His fingers going in and out of you, playing with your button till you burst out in your orgasm clenching and spasming on his fingers. His name being moaned again and again.

“Fuck. Ya’re so good fer me.” He kissed you passionately, fingers pumping you slowly, till he broke your kiss, just to have a taste of you from his fingers and slipping them in your mouth so you could suck and taste it too. “Such a good girl… what should be yer reward?”

“You know what I want… but first…” you tugged at this black sweater that he was still wearing, fuck, you wanted to feel his body against yours, skin to skin, the mix of your scents with sweat and the smell of sex.

He took out his shirt throwing it on the floor and coming back to you, looking at your eyes, his hands caressing your head scratching your scalp. “Now, tell whatcha want sunshine…”

“I want your dick, full inside of me. Please…” You pleaded your hands wandering on his chest, going down on his abdomen.

“Ya ask so nicely, I could give ya the world.” He kissed you, deeply, slowly and sensually, this time wasn’t like all the others despaired and craving for the other, it had more. It was as if this kiss could mean everything, all the years pinning for each other, all the feelings that were hidden, the lonely nights thinking about each other, the inability to be satisfied never having the other…

He aligned himself to your pussy and he pushed inside. You gasped, it had been so long… and you’ve been wanting this for so many years, that none of your fantasies or attempts to reproduce the feeling with your fingers could compare to having him inside you. He slowly bottomed out and started to move once you were comfortable. His hips trusting onto yours rhythmically and yours doing the same unable to contain your moves and the need for the man between your legs.

“Fuck, ya’re so delicious. I should’ve had give in to yer temptation earlier.” He groaned nibbling and sucking on your neck.

“Dar… ya do it so well…” Your arms around him holding on his shoulders. “Hhgmmm…”

A thought crossed his mind for a single second and he didn’t think twice. He rolled both of you so you’d be on top, his hand moved to your hips. “Ride me, I wanna see ya riding me…” you sat on top of him, he still inside of you. You looked at him and… Daryl has always been handsome but fuck… were he gorgeous right at that moment.

You moved your hips, both hands on his stomach, going up and down right on your rhythm, rolling on top of him. “You feel amazing…” You closed your eyes, throwing your head back, your hair down framing your face… in Daryl’s mind he was being fucked by a goddess., you glowed in all your glory. You felt you were close, that so familiar feeling inside of you telling you’d explode at any moment, you quickened your pace searching for your breaking point. You could feel by the way Daryl’s dick was twitching he was close too.

“Y/N… love… I need to pull out I’m…” you interrupted him, going faster by every second.

“I dun mind. I wanna everything with you, everything from you…” If he didn’t mind of course, but you didn’t had the time to say it, hearing your words were the ignition he need to erupt inside of you, filling you with his cum and bringing you to the edge as soon as you felt his warm seed inside of you. “Daryl, fuck…”

Your body collapsed on top of him, your head laying on his chest hearing to his quick heartbeat and heavy breathing, both of you calming down and relaxing on each other’s arms. He rolled you again, so now you were resting on the bed he was on top of you. He looked at you, his hand on your face admiring you.

“I love ya, I always have.” He confessed.

“I love you too.” You said teary eyes, you were so happy you weren’t able to control.

“Shush… dun cry, I’m not pushing you away ever again.” He said thumb caressing your cheek.

“I’m so happy.” You said trying to control your happy tears and failing.

He pulled out of you, your mixed fluids coming out and spreading on the bed. He took a clean humid cloth cleaning you and the bed the better he could. Then he joined you in bed again, holding you, your head on his chest, a blanket over both of you. You talked about nothing and everything, imagining how the future would be and imagining how the kids would react once they knew you were finally together.

In the middle of talking you fell asleep, while Daryl stayed awake a little more thinking on how long he deprived himself from happiness and how lucky he was that you never gave up on him, until he fell asleep. Little did he know that you also thought you were the luckiest woman for having him by your side all those years and finally being able pour your love on each other.

Final notes: Hope you guys enjoy it, it took me some time, but I’m happy with it.

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wheresarizona · 3 months

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Learning to Live Part 31

summary: Mondays are Javier’s least favorite day. Add in he has a meeting he’s doing as a favor to the Sheriff that he doesn’t want to do, and the day was destined to be shitty. But things take a turn for the better that morning when he gets a text message from his fiancée that reads: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña (not at you), Switch Javier Peña (there’s subby Javi as a treat). first smut: masturbation (f), vibrators, accidental voyeurism, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, **BREEDING** (an actual attempt at babymaking). second smut: dry humping, coming in pants, semi-public sex? (it happens in a hospital). in both: dirty talk, praise | discussion of pregnancy, dysfunctional family, insults, yelling, arguing, angst with a happy ending, Javier meets your parents for the first time, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional hurt/comfort, Javier going off)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 16k

a/n: The dirty talk in this one makes me 🫠🫠🫠. This chapter is something a lot of people have been waiting for. Thank you to everyone who comments and reblogs! I try to reply to them all, and if I miss any, it’s not on purpose and I’m sorry! The love so many people have for this silly story of mine makes me literally 😭😭😭. So, THANK YOU. We’ve got about nine chapters left after this one (could become more). Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for giving this a look over and ensuring my Spanish is correct. I love you.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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The New Year started with Javier’s big hands caressing your face as he kissed you, the Times Square ball having dropped on the nearby television in your best friend’s living room, where you were attending a party. He had tasted like cherry and orange jello from the Tequila Sunrise jello shot you convinced him to take with you a minute before midnight and smelled like his spicy cologne; the familiar scent had made you feel warm and safe—it had made you feel at home.

Javier Peña was your home.

He was your always and forever, the sun shining after it rained, a warm, cozy blanket on a cold day, the bright star that guides you through the darkness, and the greatest love you would ever have.

And he belonged to you as you belonged to him.

The New Year started with a kiss—one full of promises for the months ahead and shared hopes and dreams; your lips pressed together and moving in sync, silently proclaiming to the other your insurmountable love and undying devotion. And when it had ended, you wore matching grins, Javi's cheeks tinted in a lovely pink flush, his perfect full lips glistening under the room's lights from saliva while his beautiful chocolate-colored eyes gazed tenderly into yours, and he said, "Happy New Year, Cielito. I know it's gonna be a great fucking year because I have you—my best friend, the love of my life, and in ten days, my wife.”

Monday, January 4, started like any other Monday—the alarm going off and your fiancé hitting the snooze button so he could pull you into his arms and get nine minutes of uninterrupted cuddling in before the incessant beeping went off again. When your time was up, he sometimes, like this morning, grumbled as he moved to turn it off, "Fucking hate Mondays." This was why his coffee mug had Garfield the cat on it with a speech bubble containing the same sentiment, just without the cursing, but let’s be real, if that orange cartoon cat wasn’t censored, he’d absolutely say ‘fuck.’

In December, Javier’s prima (cousin) Alma—his tío’s (uncle’s) daughter and sister to Sebastián—was home from college and introduced you to something the kids had started doing: texting. You found this new form of communication came in handy when you were busy and didn’t have time to talk, like right this second as you stood in a storage room at work an hour into your shift with a bag of saline in your hand, your cell phone in the other sending Javi a message.

Your thumb punched the numbers on the keypad, typing: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)

The phone went back into your scrub pants pocket, and you started grabbing the other supplies you needed from the shelves. Seconds later, ringing sounded, making you sigh and have to juggle what you held into one arm to fish your cell phone out again, seeing he was calling from his office phone. You pressed the accept button, the device going to your ear as you answered in exasperation, “Why do you always call instead of texting back?”

“Because talking is easier than trying to type shit out with the keypad,” Javier replied. “Why do you send messages when you know I’m just going to call you?”

“My naive hope that you’ll get I’m too busy to talk.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick—is this a regular lunch quickie, or is it finally time…?” He sounded hopeful.

“With how I’m feeling a little crampy and insanely horny this morning, I’m pretty sure it’s time—like, the horniness is bad enough there’s no way I can wait until work is over.”

There was noticeable excitement in his voice. “Apartment or truck?”

As tempting as the truck was, you weren’t in the mood for the risk.

“Home.”

“Got it, and why is there extra punctuation after the question? Is it code or something? Should I know what it means?”

“Turn the phone sideways, and it looks like a winking face—I was trying to be flirty and cute with my request for dick.”

“Huh, I guess it does kinda look like a face…”

“I have to get back to work, babe. We’re meeting at home on lunch for you to fuck my brains out, got it?”

“Yes, Cielito—home on lunch to fuck a baby into you.”

“Perfect. Love you, bye.”

“Love you, too. Bye, mi amor (my love).”

The device was put away, and you double-checked you got everything you needed for the new patient who’d just been brought to your department to recover from surgery. While in the patient’s room setting up their IV, you felt your pocket vibrate. After ensuring your new occupant was comfortable and not in need of anything, you left the room, looking at your phone as you walked down the hall and finding you had an unread text from Javi that you opened:

I love you and im excited for lunch ;)

It made you smile, and you replied back: Love u too. cant wait to see u <3

A few minutes after getting back to work, you felt the vibration of another message from him that ended up containing a question: What does <3 mean?

Robyn got a rushed 'See you in an hour' as you left for lunch in a hurry.

You didn't have road rage—it was more road annoyance when people were driving below the speed limit, didn't go as soon as the light turned green, or cut you off like that asshole who worked over at the hardware store did; what was his name? Jimmy? Jerry? Terry? It didn’t matter; he got a raised middle finger. When you pulled into your parking space at the apartment complex, Javi's spot beside yours was empty, and you booked it inside, kicking off your shoes once you got through the door, throwing your purse onto the console table in the entryway, along with your keys.

The thought of leaving the front door unlocked for Javi was squashed almost immediately with the reminder of him telling you always to keep it locked when he wasn't home—so you locked it, the deadbolt turning with a click.

When you told him you were insanely horny, it wasn’t an exaggeration—the horniness had your heartbeat pulsating in your cunt and made the scrubs you were wearing feel stifling over your heated skin, needing them off as soon as possible; your mind was consumed with all of the dirty things Javi could do to ease the ache between your legs—his thick fingers pushing into you and crooking them to hit that one spot only he could reach; his hips pounding into you from behind while rubbing your clit just right to make you come around him; his talented tongue and mouth working you over, licking and sucking on your wet heat with the finesse of a man devouring his first meal in weeks; his cock fucking into you nice and slow, feeling the stretch you couldn’t replicate with your fingers or a toy.

All those thoughts had you wanting Javier with every fiber of your being, and each passing second he wasn’t there was driving you crazy.

Walking toward the bedroom, you removed your clothes as you went, shimmying out of your pants, pushing down and off your panties, your blue scrub shirt getting tugged over your head next, followed by your white tank top, and finally, upon entering the room, your bra was unsnapped, and gravity took it to the floor, leaving behind a trail of garments that’d lead your fiancé to you buck naked and wanting.

You crawled onto the bed Javi had made that morning, the navy blue duvet decorated in golden suns, moons, and bright white stars. The burning ache at the apex of your thighs was begging to be assuaged by any means necessary, and with the absence of the person you wanted more than anything, it was up to you to take off the edge until he arrived.

Pulling open your bedside table drawer, you got out your small bullet vibrator and got comfortable lying down with your head on a pillow and slightly spreading your legs—cold air hit the slick-coated skin on your inner thighs and the lips of your sex, making you shiver. The toy hummed to life with the click of a button, your eyes closing as you slid it along your wet folds, the thrumming igniting sparks of arousal in your belly. You were imagining Javi on top of you, his hips pinning you to the mattress with his dick buried inside you, thrusting deep while his tongue was in your mouth—your jaw went slack, and your spine stiffened when you circled the vibe around your swollen clit, the sharp bolt of pleasure shooting to your core causing you to gasp.

The excitement in your pelvis was growing, moving the waves of vibrations side to side over your sensitive nub, fanning the flames of arousal in your center. You were so turned on your orgasm was building quickly, your nipples tightening, the heat in your abdomen spreading out from your groin, and getting hotter by the second. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead, your thighs shaking as you envisioned Javier fucking you.

“Javi,” you moaned.

“I’m here, baby,” came his deep rasp. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, jolting in surprise.

He was standing at the end of the bed in his charcoal grey suit pants and a white dress shirt gaping at the neck from the three or so buttons he’d undone. His jacket and the red-patterned tie he’d left for work wearing were nowhere to be seen—there was a noticeable bulge at the front of his slacks, his pupils blown wide, his hungry gaze feasting on you spread out in front of him while he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the golden skin of his forearms, the overhead light glinting off of the face of the silver Rolex watch on his wrist you’d gotten him for Christmas.

Seeing him there in the flesh had such a strong spike of arousal cutting through you that you were unable to stop your desperate moan of his name. “I need you,” you whined, lifting the vibrator from yourself and turning it off in preference of having him instead. “I need you to fuck me—right now, Javier.”

His big hand was stroking over his straining length beneath his pants, his eyes locked on your glistening center. He licked his lips like he was imagining what you’d taste like. “You weren’t lying about being insanely horny, Cielito,” he said, not moving his gaze from between your thighs. “Look at how wet you are—how needy your pussy is for me. You want my dick, hermosa (beautiful)? You want my come?”

“Yes,” you answered, nodding your head.

“You can have it, Cielito.” You squeaked in surprise when he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you toward him to have your ass at the edge of the mattress. “—in a minute,” he continued and dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

He eagerly dove in, running the flat of his tongue through your slit to gather your wetness with an appreciative hum. It felt so good, your lip was pulled between your teeth, and your fingers curled into his hair, moaning as he lapped at your cunt.

The tip of his beautiful nose rubbed your clit with every drag of his plush mouth along your pussy, causing shocks of electricity to course through your wet core, your eyes rolling back, and the pleasure building inside you. His groans were vibrating against your sensitive skin, his tongue dipping into your opening before moving up to tease your bundle of nerves—flicking at it side to side, over and over again.

Your fists tightened in his hair. “Javi,” you whimpered. “God, it’s so good.”

There was something about someone enthusiastically going down on you that made the act a million times better—your past boyfriends would only do it if you asked, or they felt they had to because you gave them a blow job. But Javier? This man wanted to eat you out. He craved your taste; he loved getting you off with his mouth. You were pretty sure if he could, he’d live with his face shoved in your cunt, and you loved hearing how much he was enjoying himself; his moans making it sound like you were the one pleasuring him.

The horniness and using the vibrator had you so worked up that adding in Javi eating your pussy like it was his favorite meal had you cresting in hardly any time at all—your insides knotting up, winding tighter and tighter until the tension shattered and you came with a gasp of his name, relishing the euphoria that washed over you. His tongue went down to your entrance, licking up every bit of your release he could get, not missing a single drop.

The orgasm was nice, but it was more of an appetizer—it got you into the mood and even more excited for the main course that was getting his cock inside you so you’d finally be relieved of the aching emptiness in your core.

You let go of his hair, your words coming out hoarse, “Can I have your dick now?”

He let your legs fall off his shoulders and rose with a crooked grin, his mustache and the bottom half of his face wet with your juices. He started undoing his belt. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he said, popping open the button on his slacks and pulling down the zipper. “I wanted to make sure I got you off first.” He shoved the pants and white boxer briefs down his legs, his cock springing free under the hem of his dress shirt.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smiled at him. “A gentleman,” you replied with a wink. “I’ll take it you’re unbelievably excited about possibly getting me pregnant, and you don’t think you’ll be able to last? Which, no shame—it flatters me when you’re so jazzed about fucking me you bust a nut sooner than you wanted.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’m excited.” He looked down, lifting the bottom of his shirt with one hand and spitting onto the fingers of the other, using them to slick up his throbbing length and making it shine in the lights of the room. “I’m really fucking excited.” He hooked his left arm under your knee and pulled you a little closer as he stepped forward with his dick in his right hand, pumping it a couple of times and pressing the tip to your soaked hole. “I love you,” the last word devolved into a groan as he pushed forward, sliding all the way home inside your cunt until he was balls deep.

The moment he breached your entrance, your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch your tight walls had to make for him to fit; your breaths went ragged, and your fingers clutched the duvet at the fullness. This was what you wanted. This was what you needed, feeling him so deep inside you that you were sure if he went any deeper, he’d nudge your spleen.

Your eyes had closed, and you fell back, the first sound escaping your lips coming out as a trembling whisper of his name. Javi went completely still for some seconds to calm himself down before he got his arms under each of your knees to spread you wide.

His voice was huskier when he spoke. “This what you needed, mi amor?” he asked. “My cock? Need me to fill this perfect pussy with my come? Need me to fuck it so deep I get you pregnant?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“I’ll make you a mother, Cielito,” he said in a sure tone.

That statement had you clenching around him, Javi hissing. He audibly swallowed.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “It’s fucking embarrassing how close I am.”

You huffed in amusement, your mouth dry and sweat forming on your brow. “You riled yourself up while riling me up—you played yourself.”

“Don’t give me shit.”

Opening your eyes, his broad figure was looming over you with a grumpy look on his perfect face, his dark eyes on yours.

“I’m not giving you shit, Javi,” you said. “I love it—now, hurry up and fuck me, so we’ll be parents in nine months.”

That seemed to kick him into gear, Javi pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in hard enough to push the air from your lungs, setting up a hard, fast pace that had your mouth forming a perfect ‘O.’ He was pounding into you, grunting with each thrust, and stuttering your moans—it was so amazing, arousal was seeping from your cunt and down his shaft, hearing him working his dick in and out of your sopping hole and the harsh slap of his balls against your skin.

Heat was growing at the base of your spine, your thoughts consumed with how good he was fucking you and the fact there was a chance he could knock you up—that alone had you speeding toward another orgasm.

Ever since the first time Javier told you he loved you, his preference in sex positions had changed—before, it was backshots, railing you from behind to the point he had you incoherent and drooling. Now, it was anything face to face for the intimacy and wanting to kiss you, which was so unbelievably sweet.

A newer development that you’d noticed not too long ago was he liked having access to your breasts—he was still an ass man, but there’d been an uptick in titty action, like at this moment with him wrapping your legs around his waist so he could lean down to suck your nipple between his lips while he palmed your other breast, his hips never waning from their brutal onslaught.

His tongue laved at your stiff peak, sucking and licking it and causing lightning to shoot straight to your core, the volume of your moans increasing. The hot pleasure curling in your gut made you move your hands into his hair, your legs squeezed tight around his hips.

His cock was pushing in and out of you, filling you over and over again, his mouth moving to your other nipple to give it the same attention while his fingers pinched and rolled the first—he had your pussy weeping for him, your slick escaping where you were joined, dripping down between your asscheeks as he fucked you into the mattress.

You were almost there. The muscles in your stomach were tensing in preparation for your release.

You wanted to kiss, and he got the message when you pulled his head up by the hair, his lips smashing against yours, holding his weight on his arms beside your head. The kiss was messy, with your tongues tangling and teeth clattering, sharing breaths, his body taking up your vision. You were lost in it all and all of him, Javier becoming the only thing you could think about, the two of you in your own little world, where nothing else mattered except each other.

When you needed air, your mouth blazed a sloppy trail of kisses along his jaw to his neck, his breathing getting shallower and rhythm jerky, knowing he was close—you sucked on the taut skin of his throat hard enough to leave a mark, and it made him whine, the sound going straight to your cunt.

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he said in a breathy rumble, the deep timbre of his voice making your scalp tingle. “I’m gonna—shit—I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.” It was your turn to whine. “I’m gonna fill you up, keep you stuffed until it—fuck—until it takes.” He sounded totally and completely wrecked.

Your words were muffled into his neck, “Y-Yes, Javi—give it to me. Fuck a baby into me.”

“I wanna,” he groaned, “I wanna see you pregnant with my child.” He wasn’t going to last much longer; his strokes were getting sloppier, and he’d hit the point of being so close that he rambled. “I wanna see your body change—your tits get bigger with milk.” His dick twitched hard inside you. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful—fuck—so fucking beautiful carrying my baby.” He was panting. “I love you so much—please don’t leave—please don’t ever leave me.”

You grabbed his cheeks and passionately kissed him, saying into his lips, “I’m never gonna leave you—I love you—I love you,” you repeated with more emphasis. “I’m yours—I’ll always be yours. Put a baby in me, Javi—fuck your come deep.”

That did him in.

His groan was ragged as he broke the kiss to shove his face into your neck—his teeth were bared, his hot breaths fanning against your skin, his pace going frantic.

“Yes, yes, yes,” was gasped from your lips, chanting the word like a prayer. “Come in me,” you practically beg.

His hips bucked into you one last time, pushing his cock in as deep as it could go inside you, feeling it thicken and jerk as he came, gushing inside you with a rumbling moan. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the pleasurable pain making you gasp, feeling the hot flood of his come painting your insides. His hips were rolling to fuck it deeper, catching you off guard when he suddenly shifted his weight onto one arm to shove his other hand down between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit.

There was a quivering in your belly, a quaking that spread out to make your arms and legs tremble, his fingers circling, stroking, over and over again.

“Come for me,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me have it.”

You hit your tipping point, falling over the edge with an unintelligible cry—the surge of pleasure that bursted from your core had your hips jerking and your pussy spasming around him, Javi’s head falling against your shoulder with a strangled groan of good girl because you were squeezing him like a vice.

Now, this was one of those orgasms that consumed your entire being, taking you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but an incoherent, blissed-out puddle of a person who couldn’t even remember their own name.

A body slumped onto you, welcoming the familiar weight, the only sounds in the room being the hum of the air conditioning and panted breaths of the two inhabitants. It was reflex that had your fingers pressing into his slightly sweat-damp hair and rubbing your fingertips along his scalp—he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat.

Seconds pass, then some minutes, it was Javi who spoke first, grumbling with his face now in the crook of your neck, “I don’t wanna go back to fucking work.”

The reminder that your workday wasn’t over made you whine ‘No’ dramatically.

His hand, not above your head, rubbed along your ribs. “I know, baby—it’s shitty.”

“Why did we think a lunch quickie was a good idea?”

“Was there any thinking…?” he questioned.

“God, you’re so right. We suspected I was ovulating and immediately jumped to ‘We need to fuck right now.’ Zero planning whatsoever. An error was made when we assumed it’d be like our usual sexy lunchtime shenanigans.”

He hummed in agreement. “Was it better than normal for you, too…?”

“Um, yes—apparently, actual babymaking sex is another level of amazing.”

“It really is.” He held up his wrist so you could look at his watch. “How much time do we have?”

“Not enough for you to shower or either of us to eat—we probably should’ve gotten up like five minutes ago.”

“Fuck,” he said. Javi groaned as he pushed himself up to stand, a hiss slipping through his teeth when he pulled himself out of you.

Sitting up on your elbows, his attention was focused on the swollen lips between your thighs, his come starting to dribble from your used hole. You spread your legs a little wider for him to get a better look.

“So fucking pretty,” he mused, his hand moving without a second thought to catch his leaking spend on two fingers and press it back inside you. “Not letting a drop go to waste, mi amor.” His eyes met yours, laying his free hand low on your belly over your womb. He smiled. “A couple of weeks from now, you could be pregnant.”

You shared his happy expression. “We are going to fuck so much that your dick is going to hurt by the end of this week—might even get chafed.”

He grimaced. “Why are you excited about that?”

Reaching, you pressed a palm to his cheek. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll ice it for you.”

“That doesn’t make it any better…”

“It’s a sacrifice we must make to knock me up.”

He pulled his fingers out. “Sacrifice we have to make? I’m the one making the sacrifice…”

Your eyebrow lifted. “Okay, and what about the sacrifice I have to make with my body growing a tiny human from practically nothing, sharing said body with them for nine months, then having to go through probably the most excruciating pain of my entire life to push them out of my vagina, Javier? Still think you’re the only one making a sacrifice by being uncomfortable for a couple of days after contributing your pleasurable 1% to our group project, that I will be doing 99% of the work on?”

His eyes had rounded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Right,” he said and cleared his throat. “I’m fine with the dick discomfort—I’m sorry, cariño (sweetheart).” He rubbed your bicep with his clean hand. “Can I get you some water?” He checked his watch. “Fuck it, I’ll go back to the office late. I don’t have a meeting for another half an hour anyway—I’m gonna make you lunch to take to work.” He bent to pull up his underwear and slacks he didn’t bother buttoning up and leaned to give you a quick kiss. “I just need to wash up real fast—I love you. Thank you.” He pecked you on the lips again.

“I love you, too—you don’t have to make me food,” you said as he retreated to the bathroom. “I’m not mad at you.”

“I know you’re not mad,” he replied over his shoulder, “but I’m still making my wife and the future mother of my children food because I love her and appreciate everything she does for me.”

You gasped in pretend shock. “You’re married?!” you exclaimed. “I’m sleeping with a married man?!”

He stopped in the bathroom doorway and turned your way with a look that said he was done with your shit, and it made you grin.

“You will be in seven days,” he replied.

You got up from the mattress on shaky legs, walking toward him.

“Does your wife know that?”

“Cielito?”

“Yes, Javier?”

“I’m fucking you in seven days—mark it on your calendar.”

That made you giggle. “If I scheduled all the times we fuck, there wouldn’t be any empty days on the calendar.”

You were close to him.

“Probably.” He shrugged. “But next Monday is special.”

“Is that so?” you asked, finally in his space and wrapping your arms around his shirt-covered middle. He hugged you back, looking you in the eyes with a smile.

“Yeah,” he answered, “‘cause it’ll be the first time I fuck you as my lawfully wedded wife.”

“Should I expect sex to be different as Mrs. Javier Peña?”

He nodded. “It’ll be better.”

And before the lunch quickie, you’d just had, you would’ve told him that was impossible. However, now, you thought he was right; that as your relationship continued to grow and evolve, so would you both, and it’d affect something like your sex life, hopefully, positively as each year passed. It felt like you won the lottery that this kind, sweet, caring, respectful, incredible man loved you and would no doubt ensure sex with him was nothing less than spectacular.

“Well, Mr. Peña, I’m excited for you to make an honest woman out of me.”

His head moved, hovering his lips over yours, feeling his breath as he spoke in a low husk, “I’m excited to be your husband and share my last name with you, Mrs. Peña—I love you.”

“I love you, too—kiss me,” you whispered.

He nudged his nose against yours. “As you wish, mi amor—I promise to kiss you every day for as long as I live.” He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you tenderly.

Robyn was going to give you so much shit for returning to work late…

Javier didn’t mind Mondays when he was in Colombia.

To be honest, during his first stint trying to get Pablo Escobar, he was working so much his days blended together, and he didn’t know the date until he looked at a calendar in the office or Steve told him. As attaché, Mondays were the start of his week, and if he happened to have Sunday or the whole weekend off, he was still doing work at home and couldn’t wait to get back to the office—Monday mornings were used to plan out and go over his week’s schedule with his staff, the rest of the day he attended required meetings and when he had time, assessing where they were at in their operation and strategizing next steps.

He’d been too consumed with his job to take a break or relax over the weekend. it wasn’t something he would’ve wanted to do anyway because it’d mean he’d be alone with his thoughts, and who’d want that? Thinking about all of the mistakes he’d made, how much he fucked up and let his family down, mulling over how alone and miserable he felt—obsessing about his work meant there wasn’t time to think about those things, so Mondays were always welcome.

His life had changed since then.

Drastically.

Now, he looked forward to the weekend.

It meant a full forty-eight hours he got to spend with the most amazing woman he loved more than anything. It was forty-eight hours full of love, happiness, and contentment. He could actually relax with her, let his guard down, and just be himself.

The weekend was sacred, and he hated waking up on Monday morning, knowing he'd have to be away from his media naranja (soulmate) for at least forty hours over the next five days.

It was safe to say that Javier wasn't the jolliest of people when the alarm clock went off at the start of the week; it was such a common occurrence Cielito often compared him to Garfield, the cat.

He felt he'd done some good work since starting at the Sheriff's office a while back. The narcotics unit, he advised, had managed to do double the busts and arrests than the previous year, the DEA practically frothing at the mouth over the amount of drugs, weapons, and dirty money they’d seized. The agent in charge of their region, who he’d previously butted heads with, had even commended him on their last call. His notoriety was known enough he’d lost count of how many offers he'd gotten to do lectures and the number of agencies in Texas and across the country who had tried to poach him at most or get him to do short-term freelance consulting at minimum.

Basically, there were a lot of people who wanted to pick his brain and/or talk about his time with the DEA.

His, was it, popularity? In the drug enforcement circles and public knowledge of his efforts in Colombia had led to an interesting phenomenon, the Sheriff loved and Javier hated. Philanthropists, sometimes businesses, a lot of the times just individuals, many of whom weren’t even from the area, wanted to donate decent sums of money to the various anti-drug and addiction treatment programs the Sheriff's office and county, in general, ran with the caveat of discussing where their money was going with someone who fought in the War on Drugs.

Him.

Most of the time when he met with these 'philanthropists,' they just wanted to hear stories about Pablo Escobar and the Cali cartel that weren't reported in the mainstream media, or in other words, Javier had to schmooze.

Javier hated schmoozing.

He absolutely fucking hated all the ass kissing he had to do with higher-ups as attaché, and he sure as fuck, didn't like having to do it now with people who had more money than god and a morbid curiosity about two of the biggest, most violent cartels in recent history.

He could decline these meetings if he wanted—Sheriff Arturo told him it was completely his choice if he took them or not. Obviously, his preference would be the latter, but he cared about his community and checked into it to confirm the donations were being used as intended, so he figured it was worth an hour of his time every once in a while.

This morning, he'd been extra annoyed it was Monday because he was scheduled to meet with one of these potential donors who was from Dallas or somewhere else in the state; he wasn't actually paying attention the prior week when Joy, the Sheriff's assistant who also helped out Javier sometimes, was giving him the information due to the fact seconds before she walked into his office he'd gotten a message on his phone from his wi-fiancée that read:

Can I blow u on lunch?

And he’d needed Joy to leave so he could call Cielito to give her an emphatic yes, with the stipulation he could eat her out for his afternoon meal instead of the sandwich she made him. All that’d registered when his, kind of, assistant was talking were the date and time for the meeting he hastily scribbled down on his yellow legal pad.

Since it was the beginning of a new week and having the meeting on his agenda, he didn’t have much hope for it being a good day, and then his phone vibrated with a text message from his soon-to-be wife:

Need u bad. Lunch? ;)

See, in the week after they came home from Miami, they had an in-depth conversation about starting their family—yes, they both had already enthusiastically agreed to try for a baby, but Cielito wanted to manage his expectations and ensure he understood the statistics, risks, and tragic possibilities he didn’t even want to think about, yet needed to be aware of.

That night, he’d gotten out his mother’s rosary for the first time in a while, sat on the edge of the bathtub in the locked bathroom, and had a quiet conversation with her about how happy and ecstatic he was, along with his new fears and worries, making a tearful request for her to please watch over them. He wasn’t religious by any means and didn’t see a point in praying to some all-powerful being that possibly existed and, if so, had more serious matters in the world to attend to, but Javier knew his mom would care if she was listening, and it comforted him, thinking she was, and that she would watch over them.

Another thing his fiancée had done was try and pinpoint when they actually had a chance of conceiving, and that was how he found out she’d begun keeping track of her periods when they started dating, her reasoning:

‘I thought you didn’t want kids, so I made sure I could catch any surprises as quickly as possible to give us time to figure out what we wanted to do, then I found out you’re actually pro-kids and knew the data would come in handy when we decided to go for it, and I was right.”

She was right, she was always right, though, and had marked possible dates their chances were high on the Star Wars-themed wall calendar in the kitchen—January’s picture was a still from the first movie of Darth Vader interrogating Princess Leia in her cell on the Death Star—and Javier had been waiting for the prospective days with almost the same amount of glee as their impending nuptials.

Today was a possibility, and getting her text message and having her confirm over the phone her telling symptoms had him fist pumping with an excited ‘Yes!’ when he hung up.

His day had completely turned around, and he wasn’t even bothered about his afternoon meeting because he was on top of the world and beyond happy about the possibility of becoming a father.

He’d been vibrating with so much excitement he couldn't even focus on his work, and there were some important reports he needed to go over and create; he also had a few files on some recent busts one of the guys on the narcotics team wanted him to look over to see if Javier noticed the same things he did without disclosing what they were—he’d be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued.

Over the months he’d been with the Sheriff’s office, they’d had some leads on how the drugs were crossing the border from Mexico into Laredo, but they all ended up being dead ends. They knew what cartel was supplying; however, they didn’t know the link that was getting them into the US, and it bothered him so fucking much. Every person they caught and interrogated either wouldn’t say anything because they feared what the cartel would do or didn’t know shit, and had the same story that they got a call from an unknown number that gave them a location to pick up what was usually a vehicle with the drugs hidden inside along with their cash payment, and a destination where they needed to take it—generally, random parking lots they’d abandon the cars in. The narcotics team had attempted numerous times to get one of the traffickers to wait for their next call and report the specifics in order to conduct a sting, but once they were arrested, they were never contacted again or, in some cases, mysteriously disappeared; the assumption was they either fled to Mexico, or the sicarios got them.

It also didn't help that the town police department wasn't very forthcoming with their drug arrests and made getting their reports a pain in the ass—apparently, this only became an issue when Javier came on board as a consultant, which told him the person making their life difficult was the Laredo Police Department Chief, who also happened to be Lorraine's uncle.

That fucking family.

Since he'd been too amped to work, the time leading up to the lunch hour was spent going through the catalogs he had delivered to the office he hid in his desk drawer, containing baby stuff—clothes, toys, furniture, and making notes of the things he liked or needed to call Connie about to get her opinion.

The lunchtime quickie that ended up not being very quick was better than he ever could have imagined; it was so fucking fantastic that it easily made his top three Greatest Fucks—the other two were the sex on his birthday last month and the first time they fucked after they confessed their love on the kitchen floor—and it had him itching for the end of the workday to go home, and do it again, and probably again after that. It seemed Cielito wasn’t wrong about the probability of his dick hurting by the end of the week, and after some perspective (her gentle reminder of her sacrifices), it was something he was more than okay with—he was looking forward to it, actually.

He'd made her a cheese quesadilla and cut up some apple slices for her to take back to work and eaten his own before he left the apartment.

Javier had fussed with his clothes and hair to ensure it wasn’t obvious what he’d been doing the past hour and thought he did a pretty good job. He arrived at work ten minutes before his meeting and stopped by Joy’s desk, located outside Sheriff Arturos’s office, to get any messages he may have missed. The Sheriff was standing at his door talking to her in his uniform of a short-sleeved khaki shirt and army green pants, his gold Sheriff star badge gleaming under the overhead lights.

The older man��s dark eyes landed on him as he approached, the expression on his face turning to amusement.

“Parece que tuviste un buen almuerzo (Looks like you had a good lunch),” the Sheriff said.

His eyebrows furrowed. “¿Por qué dices eso (Why do you say that)...?”

Arturo tapped the side of his neck with his finger. “Ella te marcó (She marked you).”

Javier knew the exact spot, his hand instinctively moving to cover it. His attention went to Joy, who looked just as amused as the Sheriff. “How bad is it?” he asked her as he uncovered it.

She peered up at him through her wire-rimmed glasses, examining the spot. “She got you good, but you’ve had worse,” she answered. This was something that had happened many times before. “I can cover it up for your meeting if you want.”

He usually didn’t care about walking around with hickies on his neck—he actually loved that it broadcasted he was with someone. Unfortunately, there were some instances where he needed to look professional, and Joy would help by covering the marks with makeup Cielito had given her.

Checking his watch, the people would be arriving any minute. “There’s no time,” he sighed. “I’ll get my messages after the meeting—thank you!” He started walking to his office down the hall.

He’d made sure his desk didn’t look messy, keeping a legal pad and his pen at the ready, his suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and he had some program brochures in case whoever he was meeting with wanted them. He was sitting, absentmindedly thinking about what kind of flowers he’d bring home to his fiancée, leaning towards a bouquet of colorful tulips or there’d been a pink rose and lilies arrangement he saw last week he thought was really pretty, she’d like.

His desk phone rang, and he picked up the receiver, answering, “Peña.”

“Your appointment has arrived, Mr. Peña,” Joy said on the other line. “Are you ready for them?”

“Sure,” he replied. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.” There was a lot he could do instead of regaling people with stories from the worst years of his life.

“We’re on our way.” She hung up, and so did he, Javier standing up from his chair.

Joy appeared at his doorway, holding out her arm to direct the newcomers inside, as she said, “Right this way.”

Three nicely dressed people walked in, two men and a woman, Javier stepped around his desk to shake the first man’s hand—he was much older than Javier, giving him a firm handshake.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Javier,” the man said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—he had an air about him that he knew he was the richest and most important person in the room; so, snobby. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“From someone I know?” Javier figured it was an agent at the DEA.

“I believe so,” he answered. “We can talk about that in a minute—this is my wife.” He looked at the woman beside him, and Javier shook her hand. She was probably ten to fifteen years younger than her husband, dressed in clothes and jewelry that had to be worth more than he made in a year—she wasn’t smiling. It was obvious from her expression that she was disappointed in what she was seeing and unimpressed, Javier cringing when her eyes zeroed in on his neck.

This was going to go so well.

Maybe she was expecting someone older who looked more experienced?

“It’s nice to meet you,” Javier said with a polite smile. He let go of her hand. “I didn’t get either of your names?”

The man spoke, “Call us…” he paused. “John,” he finally answered, “and Jane.”

“Okay… John and Jane…?”

“Doe.”

Fake names. “So, you want to be anonymous donors…?”

It had happened before; however, in those instances, they did tell him their names and just requested they be listed as anonymous.

“Precisely—you’re a smart guy, Javier,” John said, with a smile that wasn’t sincere and the comment coming off as condescending, making Javier’s teeth clench.

“Right…”

“Well—” John clapped his hands together once. “—let’s talk business.”

There was still the other man behind them—tall, gangly, balding, probably about John’s age, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a black suit, holding a briefcase—a lawyer if he had to guess, which wasn’t odd when there were large sums of money involved.

“I’ll take it the gentleman accompanying you is your lawyer?” he asked.

“Yes.”

They obviously weren’t going to introduce the guy to Javier, so he walked around them and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Javi,” he said, “and you are?”

“Gerald,” he answered, shaking his hand.

He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Gerald.” Javier moved to close his office door. “Please, have a seat,” he told the room as he made his way to his desk. “Sorry, I only have two chairs, but I can have Joy bring in a third.”

He sat down in his, the couple taking seats in the two chairs in front of his desk.

“That won’t be necessary,” John said, waving away his offer. “Jerry is fine standing.”

Javier looked up at the man in question standing behind them. “Would you like a seat, Gerald?”

“I’m fine,” he answered.

Javier nodded and turned his attention to the people in front of him, who now looked annoyed because they apparently didn’t like politeness. He crossed his arms on his desk and gave them a close-lipped smile.

“So,” he started, “I was told you wanted to meet with me specifically. I’ll just say I don’t normally do these kinds of meetings, but if it helps get funding, I will. How can I help you? Would you like me to go over the programs?”

“We had some questions for you,” John replied.

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m assuming they’re about my work in Colombia?”

“Some,” he answered.

“What university did you go to?” Jane asked.

“Texas A&M.”

“What degree?”

“Criminal justice with a minor in psychology.”

Her nose scrunched as if she smelled something bad, and John sat up straighter in his seat. “Were you really involved with taking down Pablo Escobar?” he asked.

“I helped—spent seven/eight years going after him with my partner. I wasn’t there when he died, but my partner was.”

“That’s a considerable amount of time to hunt someone. Why weren’t you there in the end?”

“I was on leave here in Laredo visiting my family.” Kind of true. “Bad timing, as you can tell.” He humorlessly chuckled.

“Right… And there was another cartel you were involved in dismantling?”

“The Cali cartel,” he answered. “They took over after Escobar.”

“Sounds like a dangerous job. Do you have to worry about their associates or the criminals you put away coming after you?”

“Not really? Many are dead, and I’ve been out of the DEA for a while, so I think if something were going to happen, it would’ve by now.”

“Your achievements are impressive.” He said it, but he didn’t look impressed. “How old are you?”

“Forty.” He felt like he was being interrogated. “Can I tell you about the county’s programs?”

“Right, right,” John said. “Money. We promise you’ll have a check. We’re just interested in learning more about The Great Javier Peña.”

He frowned. “I wouldn’t say I’m great…”

“We wouldn’t either,” Jane mumbled under her breath, not looking at him.

“That’s something we can agree on,” John said so smoothly that Javier was stunned by the rudeness.

What was with these people? They requested this meeting with him and didn’t seem to like him all that much—he was pretty sure the wife hated his guts, and he had no clue what he’d done or who they were. He didn’t have to put up with this shit, no matter who they thought they were or how much they were going to donate, so he let his mask fall along with all the pleasantries.

“So, I’m doing this as a favor for the Sheriff,” Javier said. “I don’t have to talk to you people, especially with you giving me the impression you don’t even like me. I don’t want to waste your time or mine—let’s cut to the chase; how much money are you donating? And I’ll decide if it’s worth answering any more of your questions.”

His shift in demeanor had the couple looking taken aback at his audacity, like they couldn’t believe he’d speak to them in such a way.

“Is that how you talk to people who want to give you money?” Jane asked.

His eyes went to her. “It’s how I talk to people who clearly don’t like or respect me. if you want this meeting to continue, tell me how much.”

“Okay, Javier,” John said. “Is one hundred thousand enough?”

He kept his face neutral, but Javier was shocked. No one had ever donated that much.

“That’ll work,” he responded. “What do you want to know?”

“Is it true you’d pay and sleep with prostitutes to get information while in Colombia?” Jane asked.

Javier jolted as if she’d slapped him, his eyebrows creasing. “Where’d you hear that? What does that have to do with Webb County or my career?”

“It’s a question of your morals,” she answered. “Did you use women for your own personal gain?”

“One hundred thousand,” John reminded him.

Jesus Christ.

His jaw ticked, his fists clenching. He answered, “Yes.”

“Is it true you were fired from the DEA for helping a paramilitary group that killed civilians?” Jane asked.

“I only helped them get a handful of Escobar’s sicarios and told them no civilians were to be harmed.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

He icily stared. “Yes.”

This was an interrogation.

“Were you engaged to Lorraine Smith seventeen years ago and left her the night before your wedding?”

How the fuck did they know that?

“She was trying to trap me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yes or no.”

“Yes.”

John leaned forward, staring him down. “All those deplorable things—do you actually think you’re good enough to marry our daughter?”

There it was.

Everything finally made sense.

He’d only seen a few pictures of her parents since his fiancée didn’t enjoy going through her family photo album, actively avoiding the reminders of how she’d been neglected and shunned, so he hadn’t recognized them. Now that he knew their true identities, he could see the features Cielito had gotten from each of them—eyes, mouth, chin, nose, that crinkle between her eyebrows when they pulled together—if her mother had smiled just once instead of glowering at him the entire time, he would’ve clocked who they were in ten seconds flat.

These fuckers, he knew they were up to something, and to wait and show up a week before their wedding, was fucking diabolical—obviously, they were going to pull some shit to try and stop him from marrying their daughter. A sick part of Javier wished they knew he could still smell Cielito in his mustache and had some of her dried come on his dick; he was happy the mark on his neck stood out since it showed he was with her recently.

His surprise only lasted a second as it quickly turned into burning hot anger, Javier glaring at them.

“Do I think I’m good enough for your daughter? No, but she thinks I am, and her opinion is the only one that matters,” he answered.

Jane rolled her eyes, and John sat back, crossing his arms.

“It used to be common courtesy to ask the Father for permission to marry his daughter,” the other man said.

Javier leaned back, mirroring John with his arms over his chest. “When they considered their daughters property,” he said. “Your daughter is not your property; she’s a person who can do whatever the fuck she wants without your permission—get out of here with that sexist bullshit.”

Jane scoffed.

John jutted a finger at him. “You’re not good enough for our daughter,” he said. “You’re not cut from the same cloth—she’s Cashmere, and you’re a dirty old rag. She’s better than you—she deserves better than you, and you cannot marry her. We won’t allow it. She needs to marry someone from a family of worth or a man in a profession of notoriety who makes good money, like that great surgeon she dated, Dr. Andrews. He’s made a name for himself and would’ve been a great match for her. If she marries you, people will talk, and we’ll be a laughingstock amongst our peers that our daughter was with someone so beneath her—you’d sully her name and all that we’ve built. So, here’s how this is going to go, Javier,” he spat. “We promised you a check, and you’ll get one for one hundred thousand as we agreed for you to put toward whatever menial program you wish. Then you’ll get a second check for the same amount to call off your wedding and leave our daughter. You will never speak to her again, and if she happens to be pregnant with your child—god help us—you will sever your parental rights and have nothing to do with either of them. Am I understood?”

Javier was so fucking angry he thought he was going to explode.

He figured they’d lay into him about his unworthiness to try and make him second guess being with her. He also thought they’d try threatening him with god only knows what to stop their wedding. Trying to pay him off to keep him from marrying their daughter was unexpected and unbelievably insulting. They were out of their minds thinking money would get him to leave her; they were fucking insane thinking money would get him to leave her and their child.

His ears were ringing, his blood was boiling, feeling hot and so full of rage he was seeing red.

His tone was low and menacing, “Get. The fuck. Out.”

John sighed. “Fine. two hundred fifty thousand.”

“I don’t want your fucking money.”

“Everyone has a price,” Jane said.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, resting his arms back on the desk. “Some people don’t actually give a fuck about money, Jane. So, no, I don’t have a fucking price. You could offer me one million dollars right this second, and I’d still tell you to fuck off. You people are fucking despicable—does she even know you’re here?”

“Of course not,” John said, giving him a look like that should be obvious. “We’re here on business.”

Javier’s attention went to him. “Your daughter’s happiness is ‘business?’ Wanting to ruin our lives is ‘business?’ Do either of you have hearts, or is it purely hatred keeping you alive? You know what, I don’t fucking care—be honest with me, do you even love her?”

“Yes, of course we love her!” Jane replied. “Why do you think we’re doing this? We love her and want what’s best for her!”

“No, you want what’s best for you.” He pointed at her. “If you actually loved her, you wouldn’t be doing this because you’d care about her happiness and not your family’s image. If you loved her, you’d be happy about our marriage.” His voice rose, “If you fucking loved her, you would treat her as such and respect her life choices! You don’t fucking love her, and you never have all because she wasn’t born with a fucking penis and didn’t follow some stupid fucking career tradition! No, you don’t fucking love her!” He stood from his chair so abruptly that it rolled back to ram into a bookcase.

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding, face hot.

His voice brokered no room for argument, “So, here’s how this is going to go. I won’t tell her about this absolutely fucked up conversation and attempted bribe, and you’re going to get the fuck out of our town without another word. You will not see her before leaving, and you will never show your faces here again. If you do not follow any of these instructions, I will tell her everything, and because I genuinely love your daughter—“ He pressed a hand over his heart. “—and know her, I can tell you that you will never hear from her again, and you won’t ever meet our children. Am I understood?”

After this meeting was finished, he was rushing to Cielito’s work to tell her all that had happened—he wouldn’t keep anything from her, especially this.

“One million,” John tried.

“Stop offering me fucking money!” Javier shouted, slamming his hands onto the desk. “You can’t pay me off!” His volume lowered. “Now, are you gonna go straight home, or do I need to call your daughter, my fiancée, on speakerphone so you can tell her what’s happening?”

John looked over his shoulder at the man behind him. “Jerry, the paperwork.” He snapped his fingers.

Gerald used his knee to prop up the briefcase that he popped open. Grabbing a large manila envelope, he passed it to John, who tossed it onto the wooden surface in front of Javier.

“Sign it,” the older man ordered, pointing at it. “Standard prenup—you get divorced, you take what little you brought with you, and don’t get a single cent of our money; if you won’t be reasonable, then you’ll play by our rules. She knows she must either keep her last name or hyphenate when she marries.” Cielito had never mentioned that and planned to take his last name, which her parents definitely wouldn’t like. “The children she has with you will have hyphenated last names, ours first—which shouldn’t be a problem for you.” That was aggressive and not fucking happening with how adamant his future wife was about getting rid of her maiden name. “—and they’ll have trusts set up for them that they can access at the age of eighteen if they pursue a medical degree, if not, then they’ll have to wait until they’re twenty-five.” How fucking rich were these people? And his kids would go to school for whatever they wanted; his fiancée had told him she could afford it. “—you, Javier, are barred from touching any of the money.”

“I don’t want your fucking money, pal,” Javier rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like it matters to me, and pull your head out of your ass—we don’t give a single fuck about you enough to do any of this asinine bullshit.”

“I’m not done,” John’s words were clipped with irritation, and his face showed it. “And you’ll want to hear the rest.”

“I don’t think I do, but please, buddy, keep up this disappointing attempt to intimidate me. Just remember, I spent years with a target on my back and know what it’s like to be at the end of a loaded gun, so your words aren’t gonna do shit.”

“We expect you to visit during the holidays and act civil; that means smiling in the annual family photo.” Javier snorted at this man being so full of himself to think he could get them to play ‘one big happy family.’ “If you don’t sign, then your children will get nothing, we will write our daughter out of our wills, and she will never get any additional financial support from us outside of the money we put aside for her college education—” She had the same stipulation that unless she went to medical school, she wouldn’t have access to her college fund until she was twenty-five. “—and what her grandparents left her; our son will inherit everything.”

Well, shit.

Javier frowned. This just put him between a rock and a goddamn concrete wall of a hard place.

“I’m sure you want your children to have a head start in life,” John continued, looking smug, “so we advise you sign, right Jerry?”

“It’s a substantial amount of money,” Gerald replied. “It would be in your best interest to sign, and that’s just my unbiased opinion.”

Javier was ready to tell them to take the prenup and shove it up their asses, the problem: he couldn’t make an executive decision on Cielito’s behalf that would lose her inheritance. This was something he needed to discuss with her and figure out if she wanted him to abide by the demands—which he would, for her; he wouldn’t like it, but he’d do anything for her. Now he needed to get these assholes to leave, so he could head to the hospital and talk to her.

“Thank you for your unbiased opinion, Gerald,” Javier said. He looked at the man who’d unfortunately be his father-in-law in a week. “Have you listed all of that in here?” He poked the manila envelope.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m not gonna sign a legally binding document without having my lawyer look it over—I’m a smart guy, after all. You got a card with your fax number on it, Gerald?”

“Yes,” he answered, pulling one out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and walking around his bosses to hand it to Javier.

“Thanks. I’m going to let my lawyer determine if it really is in my best interest to agree to this, and he’ll be in touch in a couple of days—you probably won’t tell me, but where’d you hear all that shit about me?”

How people in town found out about his history with the informants has been a mystery since he never told anyone. He knew a person could find out about his involvement with Los Pepes from reading an article in a Miami newspaper, and everyone in fucking Laredo was aware of Lorraine.

John looked at him like he was stupid. “Private investigator,” he answered.

“Let me guess, he talked to Lorraine and her family?”

“No comment.”

So, that was a yes.

He sighed. “I’m really fucking curious about where he got the intel on my… relations with the women in Colombia. It had to be someone I worked with—“ He knew it wasn’t Steve. “—or who knew me down there.”

“They contacted us anonymously, so I don’t know.”

It smelled like Stechner, which, now that he was thinking about it, that fucker had been through this area before he arrived unannounced a couple of months ago, working alongside the DEA with what was going on in Mexico. He would’ve loved stirring up trouble by letting it slip about Javier’s relationships with informants.

He nodded once. “Well,” Javier started, “eating a bowl of shattered glass would’ve been more pleasant than this shitshow of a meeting. You folks really know how to make a great first impression,” he said sarcastically. “Now get the fuck out of my office and town.” He gestured toward the door. “You’re not welcome here.”

The couple got up from their chairs.

John checked the time on his Rolex, the gold watch featuring a white dial that easily cost three to four times the amount of the one on Javier’s wrist. “We need to get going anyway,” he said, “I have to be in San Francisco tomorrow for a medical conference, and I can’t miss it since I’m speaking at it—hopefully, I’ll run into Daniel. It’s always nice talking to him.”

Javier’s eyes rolled so hard he thought they might get stuck.

“We’re happy to leave this awful town,” Jane sneered. “One day, she’ll tire of you and realize the mistake she made letting you trap her here. We’ll be there when she finally comes to her senses and returns home to us.”

Javier huffed amusedly. “You’re fucking delusional, lady. You don’t even know her! She loves living here. Especially since it’s so fucking far away from you snobby fuckers.”

The woman raised her nose at him and hmph’d.

“Last chance, Javier,” John said, meeting his eyes. “One million dollars and all you have to do is disappear from her life—you’ve done it before, so do it again, and this time be compensated for it. Someone like you can easily find another woman to love.”

Javier straightened, his hands sitting on his hips, staring daggers at the other man. “I don’t want another woman,” he growled. “You’re not understanding, so let me say it nice and slow, and maybe you’ll get it: I. Love. Your. Daughter. No one else. I will never love anyone else. I love her more than life itself. I would take a bullet for her. I would die for her. I would do anything for her, like signing this fucking document—” He tapped his finger on it. “—that I don’t agree with or want to do 99% of because I love her, and I want her to be happy. She is my entire world, and just the thought of being away from her makes me sick to my stomach. So, unless she tells me to leave, I’m not going anywhere; I am spending the rest of my life with her, and there is no amount of money in the entire fucking universe that could get me to do otherwise.” He took in a big breath and slowly let it out, frowning. “From the way you can’t seem to grasp the love we have and what your daughter means to me, I’m under the impression your marriage is transactional or for appearances only—there was never any love, it was just a way to improve your social standing, or whatever stupid shit you rich people care about, but the fact of the matter is it wasn’t built on love. It’s superficial.” He looked at John. “If you went bankrupt tomorrow, she wouldn’t stay with you.” He pointed at the wife. “There’s no for richer or poorer with you two, and that’s really fucking sad. I pity you.”

The couple were scowling at him. “We don’t need your pity,” the older man said. “You know nothing about our marriage. We’ll be expecting to see the signed papers soon.”

They didn’t wait for him to respond, storming toward the door with Gerald following.

Javier sighed, pressing his fingers to his brow.

He knew eventually he’d have to meet Cielito’s parents. He had thought about what he’d say to them when he did so many times he’d lost count because Javier needed them to know how angry he was with how they’d treated the woman he loved. He needed them to know how they failed her as parents. He needed them to know how much he loved her and that he wouldn’t let them continue hurting her. He finally had his chance, and they’d made him so mad, he couldn’t remember a single fucking thing he said and hoped in his rage he got some of his points across.

They were at a crossroads now. He’d tell her what happened, every detail he could remember, and then it would be up to her—will they cut off complete contact with her family? Or would they have to abide by her parents’ demands? Javier thought he knew which way she’d choose, but money had a way of making people do things they normally wouldn’t, and from the looks of it, there was a lot of money on the line.

He sighed again. Anxiety had his stomach twisting into knots, and he was so fucking worried about what she’d choose that his chest was aching. He’d go along with whatever it was because, in the end, it was her decision, and he’d respect it, even if it was something he didn’t like and, holy shit, did Javier hate the idea of these stuck-up pricks remaining in their lives and having any kind of relationship with their future children.

There was a knock on his office door, and his hand lowered, finding Joy standing in the doorway with worry on her brow. She was a great kid who’d really gotten the hang of the job, which was her first out of college, and she was doing very well—Joy also loved Cielito and hung on her every word when they talked.

“Is everything okay, Javi?” she asked. “I heard yelling.”

“They were my in-laws, and they fucking hate me. I’ve never met them in person; hell, I’ve never even spoken to her dad on the phone, and they flew all the way here to talk to me.”

Her eyes went wide behind her glasses. “It wasn’t to congratulate you on your marriage, was it…?”

He scoffed. “No, they were trying to convince me to call it off.”

“Then why are you still here? Go to the hospital! Don’t worry about your messages.”

“I’m going,” he said, grabbing the large envelope containing the documents and moving toward the door, not even bothering to put on his suit jacket.

“You should know they left this with me.” She held up what looked to be paper as he approached, and he took it, reading what it was.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he said in disbelief. “They donated the fucking hundred grand—we didn’t even talk about the programs. How did they know who to write the check out to?” He met her eyes.

“They asked me which one was my favorite.” She shrugged. “Now, go!” She snagged the check back. “I’ll get this to where it belongs, and you go deal with what you need to—tell her hi from me.”

“I will.” He made his way out of the door. “Thank you!” he said, walking as fast as his legs could go.

Once in his truck and on his way, he’d gotten his cell phone out and speed-dialed a number.

Ring.

“Doctor’s Hospital of Laredo. How may I direct your call?”

“Robyn Thompson, post-op.”

“One moment.”

Ring.

“Hi, this is Robyn,” she answered.

“Hey, it’s Javi.”

“Oh, they paged me to answer the phone. Let me go get her.”

“No!” he quickly said. “I need to talk to you.”

Her tone went serious, “What’s goin’ on, Javi?”

“I’m on my way there right now and need to talk to her about something that happened. Would you be okay if I borrowed her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes?”

“Javier,” she whispered, “are you gettin’ cold feet?”

That being her first assumption stung, and it hurt worse because she knew damn well how head over heels he was for her best friend. It looked like even after all these years since his failed wedding, it didn’t matter if he was madly in love with someone and had a great relationship; people were still going to wonder if he would leave his new bride at the altar.

“What? No! Never! Not with her. Her fucking parents came to town and tried to pay me a fuckton of money to call off the wedding and leave her, I told them to fuck off, but they want me to sign a goddamn prenup with a list of demands that I need to talk to her about.”

“Her parents…? Here in Laredo…?”

“Yeah, I was pretty fucking shocked, too, then so fucking angry I can’t remember what I yelled at them.”

“She can take her break early, and I’ll cover.”

“Please don’t say anything to her.”

“Oh, this is all you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

He ended the call.

The radio’s volume was down low, and the air conditioner was turned up high, Javier alone with his thoughts as he figured out how he was going to tell her about what happened—he’d tell her the truth, of course, but he didn’t want to upset her. That was the thing, though; she was going to be upset and royally pissed off.

The patient in room three wanted some apple juice; room five was asking for pain meds, but they had an hour before they could have another dose and hated being told ‘no’ so much they wouldn’t stop hitting their call button as if each press would magically make the minutes go by faster; room one was asleep and in—you checked the time on your watch—the next forty-five minutes, an orderly was coming by to take them for a walk to exercise their new hip.

It had been a busy fucking day, and you felt awful about coming back to work a little late after lunch.

You were heading toward the storage room to get the apple juice and just put your hand on the door handle.

“Hey,” Robyn said as she walked up to you. “What are your rooms needin’?”

“Three, apple juice. Five, pain meds, but we have to wait an hour. One is asleep for now.”

She nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna take care of all that for you while you go on break.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, looking at your watch. “It’s way too early for me to take a break. I’ve got another hour, at least.”

Her smile was small, patting your arm. “You’re gonna wanna go now ‘cause Javi’s waitin’ for you over at the desk.”

Your head whipped in that direction, and sure enough, he was standing there in his charcoal-colored slacks, white dress shirt, and red-patterned tie, staring at you with big brown puppy dog eyes and a little smile—and doing a little awkward wave that was both adorable and weirdly out of character from his usual suaveness.

“Uh, why is he here?” you asked, returning his gesture with a small wave of your own. “I was just with him on lunch...”

She turned her attention to him. “Oh, look at him doin’ a lil wave,” she cooed as if she was fawning over a cute baby, waving back. “Isn’t that just adorably weird and a reason you should talk to him right now?”

“You’re really okay if I take my break?” Your face turned her way.

She met your eyes. “Girl, my two patients are passed out, and the next one isn't arrivin’ for another hour, shoo.” She shooed you away with her hands, and you went.

Javi had stopped waving as you approached him, and once you were close enough, you asked, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here?”

The look on his face wasn’t happy; he was clearly worried, and it made you nervous.

“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

Alarm bells started going off in your head.

“Javier, is your dad okay? Did something happen to him? Or someone else in the family?”

He grabbed your hand, his thumb rubbing on the skin of the back of it. “Pop’s okay, Cielito—everyone in our family is okay. Take me somewhere we can talk, and I’ll explain.”

You chewed on your lip, not wanting to ask the question but needing to in order to prepare yourself. “Does this have something to do with our wedding…?” your voice was quiet.

“Baby, no,” he reassured. “Mi amor, look at me.” You did. “Us, our family, our friends, are all good—something happened at work, and I can’t talk to you on the phone about it or wait until we get home. I’ll tell you once we’re somewhere alone.”

“Okay.” You nodded, interlacing your fingers with his and leading him down the hall. For privacy’s sake, you took him to the closest on-call room, the small space containing a twin-sized bed and a desk.

The door was locked, and you moved further into the room and stopped, turning to face your fiancé.

Your eyes were on his. “What’s going on, babe?” you asked.

He took in a big lungful of air, saying as he exhaled, “Your parents came to my office today.”

What he stated was so absurd you thought you misheard him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you said my parents were at your office, like physically, in person at your office, which is just absolute crazyballs because why would they come all the way here and not tell me or visit me…?”

The look on his face was so sad it made your stomach drop to your toes. He slid his hand soothingly along your bicep, up and down, over and over.

His tone was gentle. “You know how we’ve been wondering if they’re up to something?”

“Yes,” you whispered, dreading what he would say.

“They were pretending to like me and support our marriage, so you wouldn’t suspect them of having anything to do with their plan of getting me to leave you the week before our wedding....”

“What are you talking about?”

“They came to my office today to try and pay me a lot of fucking money to disappear from your life.”

Your eyes widened.

“They tried to pay you to leave me…?”

“Yes, and it made me so fucking angry that they’d do such a thing and try to frame it like they were doing it out of love and wanting what was best for you when in reality, it’s what they want—I’m still fucking pissed.” You could tell he was with how upset he was getting as he continued speaking. “I suspected if they were gonna pull some shit, it’d be trying to make me doubt I was good enough for you or threaten me with what? I don’t know, but to try and pay me off? Like our love can be fucking bought? Or to assume money would mean more to me than you?” His eyes were getting watery. “You, my fucking soulmate. I told them no amount of money could get me to leave you. It was so fucked up, and I hate them,” he seethed. “I’m sorry, baby, but I hate your fucking parents, I hate your family, and I lost my cool and yelled at them for not loving you and being so goddamn despicable.”

It took a second for you to process that your parents flew thousands of miles to try and pay Javi to break things off. You knew they didn’t approve of him, but to go so low? It had anger welling up inside you the longer you thought about it, getting madder at how upset they made your sweet, caring, loving fiancé, who you knew absolutely laid into them for trying such a heinous thing.

After your mother’s abrupt change in opinion of him, Javi and you had been suspicious of how out of character it was for her. There was a tiny bit of hope about the size of a grain of sand that she was being sincere with how she called more in the following weeks, wanting to hear about your wedding plans and find out the date. When you thought about it, it wasn’t all that surprising she was just fishing for information to put together her scheme. She never had any intention of helping you when she offered to hire you a wedding planner; it was a ruse to buy her time to figure out how to stop the whole thing, and you threw a wrench in her plotting by getting married so soon.

And this was the final straw.

You’d given your family enough chances, and this time, they went too far—there was no coming back from this. They could never be trusted, and you wouldn’t let them continue treating the man you loved so horribly. This whole thing was confirmation they didn’t love you.

You reached to cradle his smooth cheeks in your hands.

“I’m so sorry, Javi. I’m sorry for what they put you through. I’m sorry for how they treated you. I’m sorry for them, and I’m done. They’ve shown me who they really are, and it’s the nail in the fucking coffin.” Tears didn’t come to your eyes, and you felt no sadness about cutting them out, probably because you’d already spent enough time mourning the loss of a relationship with them and had come to terms with it. “I’ve got you, your dad, your family, Robyn—I don’t need people full of so much hate. I’m done, it’s over. I won’t be answering any of their calls.”

His eyes closed in relief, his breath stuttering on a sob. The emotion was thick when he spoke, “I want that to be true, but there’s more…”

“What do you mean there’s more?”

He looked at you. “Your father gave us an ultimatum—I sign a prenup, and we go along with his terms, or you lose your inheritance; they’ll write you out of their wills, and our kids won’t get any money. They said all you’d have is your college fund and what your grandparents left you.” He held up a large manila envelope. “You can read everything he’ll require us to do, and I’ll sign if that's what you want.”

“Wait, let me guess his terms.”

He looked confused. “What?”

“Did he say I had to keep my maiden name?”

“Yes… or hyphenate it.”

You huffed out a breath. “Typical. God, did he say the shit about our children having my last name first? Which I know you have your dad and mom’s last names, but that’s how it’s ordered: your dad's, then mom’s; it’d be weird if we did mine first.”

“He did…”

“Yeah, I’d prefer our kids just being Peñas. Um, what else? Oh! Was there anything about our babies getting money for medical school?”

“Trusts… They can access at eighteen for medical school, twenty-five if not.”

“Figures.” Your eyes rolled. “Didn’t get access to any of my money until I was twenty-five.”

His free hand caressed your face, his expression still pinched in confusion. “Cielito, what is happening right now? Why aren’t you upset?”

Your eyebrows dipped. “Why would I be upset…? You’re not signing that.” You pointed at the packet. “I don’t want their money. Do you want their money?”

“What? No. I told your father exactly how much I didn’t want his fucking money. I’m not quite getting why you aren’t more upset about no longer speaking to them…”

“Oh! This is probably hard for you to understand because your parents love you unconditionally and are, in general, fantastic people. See, my parents’ love is conditional, which you’re holding proof of, and when you spend the first eighteen years of your life trying to live up to impossible standards for the tiniest scrap of affection, you kinda develop a lot of resentment toward the ones who are supposed to love you no matter what.

“Then there’s the way they think they can dictate my life choices as an adult,” you continued, “and only call me so often to keep tabs on what I’m up to in order to ensure I’m not doing anything that would embarrass them or bring shame to the family name—they’re fucking ridiculous about their traditions and keeping up appearances that their family is perfect.

“So, sure, I love them,” you told him, “but I’ve been tired of their bullshit for a while now and have been clear about my boundaries; plus, they knew they were on thin ice, and Javi, every time I’ve told you I’d choose you over them, I meant it.” You swiped his bangs off his forehead. “Your love is unconditional, and you genuinely love me; what’s better than that? And that’s why I don’t have any issues cutting them out of our lives and don’t care about losing my inheritance.

“You’ve seen firsthand how toxic they are,” you said, “and I won’t have them around us or our children. Our happiness is more important than keeping shitty people in our lives for money, and babe, believe me when I say we don’t need their money.”

His eyes were searching yours. “Are you sure?”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t—yes, Javier, I’m sure, I’m more than sure. You are what matters to me. You and our future babies are what matter to me.” You took the envelope from his hand and looked around the room, finding the small garbage can over by the door. “Swoosh!” you called out and tossed the documents toward it.

—them landing on the floor beside the trash with a thud.

“There goes my NBA career,” you mumbled.

A surprised sound left you when lips crushed against yours hard, Javi’s big, warm hands holding your face—there was a second delay before you started kissing him back just as fervently with your eyes closed, your fingers threading into the soft, thick strands of his hair, pressing your body into his as close as you could get without crawling into his skin.

His palm slid down your back to grab a handful of your ass, his tongue slipping between your lips to massage your own.

Javier could be an imposing figure with the broadness of his shoulders, his wide chest, and tall stature. He had a way of making you feel delicate and safe when he caged you in his arms, something ancient in the back of your mind repeating, 'Protector, protector, protector...' and purring happily.

He could easily get you to move where he wanted, and he walked you back until your legs hit the side of the bed. In the blink of an eye, he had your spine to the mattress with him on top of you, the kissing getting frantic.

"I love you," his sentence muffled against your mouth. "I love you—I need... I need." He sounded desperate, unable to articulate what he wanted, but if you thought about what he went through that day—the excitement of actually trying for the baby, the rage at meeting your parents, the worry at what you'd choose—he felt a lot of big emotions, and you knew his way of coping when he got overwhelmed was losing himself in another person's body.

He needed you.

His hips were cradled in your thighs, feeling him hardening.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Today, however, there were a couple of issues, the big one being that you were at your place of employment, and the second was you didn’t have time—Robyn was already doing you a solid by covering, and it’d be rude to go over your allotted fifteen minutes of break time.

Javi needed you, though, and you wanted to make him feel better.

With a quick glance at your watch, you had seven minutes to work with, a plan quickly forming in your head.

It wasn’t hard to get him to roll you both to have you on top of him, straddling his hips and shoving his arms above his head, where you held them down. Your mouths were fused together, the kiss becoming needy and hungry, your lips slick, and your tongues moving together with practiced familiarity. With a roll of your hips, you ground yourself against his hardened cock, heat zipping through your belly at the broken whine he made, which only encouraged you to keep going, continuing to grind, rubbing your pussy along his thick shaft.

He wanted to touch you, making an attempt to get his hands out of your hold, but you kept them firmly in place. You spoke quietly into his lips, “You gonna be a good boy and let me make you feel good?” He groaned, his entire body shivering under you.

His length was between the lips of your clothed cunt, grinding yourself against it, the friction to your clit causing sparks to dance in your core. "You gonna come for me?" you asked, keeping your voice low and nipping at his bottom lip, kissing him again, rough sounds rumbling from his chest.

Your mouth broke away from his, pressing your foreheads together. "You gonna think about how I still have you inside me?" you murmured, not slowing your movements, sliding your pussy over him repeatedly.

Occasionally, there were voices or the wheels of hospital beds rolling outside the room’s door as people passed by. Inside, where you and Javier were alone, the sounds filling the air were the mattress springs softly squeaking, his breathy moans, and your panted breaths.

"You gonna think about how you might've gotten me pregnant today?" you asked. That got you a groan and him bucking his hips.

"You gonna think about how you’ll fill me again when we get home? How you're gonna keep me all nice and stuffed so I have your baby in nine months?" A desperate sound left him, and he started thrusting up into you while you kept grinding.

"You gonna think about what I'll look like knocked up with your baby? The big belly and swollen tits? You like that my boobs are gonna get bigger, don't you?" You were reveling in his whimpers and moans, knowing you had him. "Have you imagined what I'll look like riding you when I'm pregnant?"

“Yes,” he answered breathlessly. His hands broke free, pawing at your body and zeroing in on your breasts with the enthusiasm of a man who just got home from war. “Get so fucking hard imagining it.” His fingers dug into your waist as he helped you move faster and pressed you harder against him.

“Are you gonna come thinking about it?”

The question made him gasp out, “Yes.”

You knew he was close when his breaths got shaky.

“Come for me, Javi,” you said. “Come on. Let go.”

Your mouth descended on his, the kiss sloppy and more of a mash of lips to quiet his sounds. He suddenly went still and stiffened with a choked whine, feeling his dick under you pulsing as he fell apart, your movements stopping. It was quiet in the room, save for the heavy breaths. Your mouth left his to kiss his chin, then both of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally, his forehead. You admired his pretty face with his closed eyes, and his reddened lips turned up in the cutest smile you couldn’t help but kiss.

His breathing started to even out. “How are you feeling?” you asked. Checking your watch to see you still had two minutes remaining.

“Better,” he whispered.

“Good.” The bed complained as you got off of him and it, taking a couple of steps to grab the box of tissues from the desk. “You’ll probably want to clean up the mess in your pants,” you said, setting them on the mattress beside him. “Sorry about that.”

“Liar,” he replied, blinking his eyes open all cat-like and turning his head to look at you.

You smiled. “I mean, it’s very hot, and I’m proud of myself. I wish I could stay longer, but I need to get back to work.” Bending down, you quickly pecked him on the lips before straightening. “Bye.”

You started to walk away, and his arm shot out to grab your hand. “Wait,” he said.

Meeting his gaze, you asked, “Yeah?”

His eyes had gone round, and he was looking at you like you hung the moon or painted the sky with stars; there was so much awe and love in his expression that it stole your breath and made you feel as though you were all that mattered to him, and wasn’t that the truth? It was hard to believe that someone loved you so completely and would do anything for you, knowing that had you said you wanted your inheritance, he would’ve gone along with all the shit that came with it—he would’ve hated it a lot, but Javi still would’ve done it for you because he loved you. He loved you more than any other person or thing on the planet, and when you had kids, he’d love them just as much, and that thrilled you.

You knew what he would say before the words left his mouth.

“I love you,” you said at the same time, and he smiled so big it made his eyes crinkle at the edges.

“What am I gonna say next?” he asked.

“Well, you had a day, and now you’re ridiculously happy about never having to deal with the people I’m related to again; add in that you just came and have all those love chemicals floating around in your body, you’re gonna wax poetic about how much you love me very beautifully and probably in Spanish because you tend to reset to your original programming and speak in your first language when you’re extremely lost in the sauce or come really hard.”

He huffed out an amused breath. “Smartass.”

“But am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Then lay it on me.”

“I don’t want to now—you already know what I was gonna say.”

“Okay, then I’m heading back to work,” you said, calling his bluff.

He frowned and squeezed your hand. “Wait, don’t go yet.”

“What’s up?”

“Te amo (I love you),” he replied. “Te amo tanto (I love you so much).”

“Yo sé y yo también te amo (I know and I love you, too).”

“No, cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que solo te amaré a ti por toda la eternidad (No, when I say I love you, it’s a promise that I will only love you for all eternity). Cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que sólo tú tendrás mi devoción completa (When I say I love you, it’s a promise that only you have my complete devotion). Cuando digo que te amo, las palabras vienen de lo más profundo de mi alma, donde has llenado la parte que me faltaba (When I say I love you, the words are coming from the depths of my soul where you’ve filled in the missing part of me). Cuando digo que te amo, lo siento en cada célula de mi cuerpo (When I say I love you, I feel it in every cell of my body). Cuando digo que te amo, lo digo en serio: te amo y siempre te amaré hasta el fin de los tiempos (When I say I love you, I mean it: I love you, and I’ll always love you until the end of time). Te amo, Cielito (I love you, Cielito).”

He had your eyes feeling a little misty at what he said and how it was apparent he meant every word.

“God, I love you,” you told him, “and I hate that I can’t articulate how much I love you as poetically as you do—just know I love you as much as you love me, and I’m yours forever, and I mean forever. Let me kiss you, and then I really have to go. I’ll lock the door on my way out so you can clean up.”

“Baby, I don’t need you to say sappy bullshit for me to know how fucking much you love me.” He brought your hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “I feel it in all the things you do for me. Like throwing away the prenup and knowing I was fucked up about everything today and making me cream my pants like an inexperienced teenager getting his dick touched for the first time to make me feel better. I know you love me, and that’s why I’m marrying you next week and am so fucking excited to start a family with you.”

“Oh, Javi,” you gasped. “You creamed your pants like a besotted grown man getting his dick touched by the woman he’s madly in love with—I’m being honest when I say it’s romantic and very hot.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer by the arm, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, hoping he felt it in your kiss, the all-consuming love you had for him.

“You are the woman I’m madly in love with,” he murmured into your mouth.

“And you’re the man, I’m madly in love with,” came your muffled reply.

There were a lot of ways your life could’ve turned out and many paths you could’ve chosen. What you knew for certain was they all would’ve led you to him. Mistakes weren’t mistakes, all of your choices were right, even if they were wrong, and it didn’t matter where you lived in the past or all of the people you’d met over the years; the invisible string tying you together would’ve somehow, some way pulled you to him in that grocery store on that hot summer day because it was the perfect moment in both of your lives to find one another—you were two lost souls who finally found what you’d been missing: each other.

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#pedro pascal #javier peña #Javier Peña/reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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patricia-taxxon · 4 days

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This is possibly v silly, but how do you feel abt other dogs approaching you since your boundaries w humans are so different? I say this as someone who was rewatching your videos and could legit feel my tag wagging and getting excited in fellow dog/therian recognition, what do other dogs read like to you as opposed to humans interacting with you, if you feel comfortable sharing (if that's smth that's ever come up with you).

I need to be very careful about this, because I'm famous and I gotta be cognizant of what I give thousands of people the license to do, but in a vacuum, my interaction with dogs is what you'd expect. I break touch barriers with my dog friends at light speed, I was always a roughhouser as a pup & I'm always looking for the go-ahead to tackle. I generally conceptualize touch in a very inhuman way, but especially with regards to other dogs.

#cilantromixture #patricia taxxon ask

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josibunn · 9 months

Text

one night only—sonder.

fem!reader x jack thurlow :P 18+

smut (obvi) , jack being a little cheater :[ away on vaca from his wife when he finds u at a club and talks his way into your panties. some spanking, hickeys, kissing, blowjob, cunnilingus, p in v unprotected, sort of drunk sex, semi public (he touched you on the dance floor, in a club bathroom) name calling (good girl, pretty girl, baby, sugar) jacks a bit toxic, (degrading his wife :[) little to no aftercare.

a/n: I had fun with this one! black reader is in mind but as always anyone can read :3 minors dni, enjoy! comment if you wanna be on a tag list and requests are open! also he looks so cute in this gif :)

You sat at the bar of a booming club, a half empty sweet drink in your hand as you swung your crossed legs. You were just about to leave, the music killing your ears and the painfully sweet drink doing quite the opposite of what your friends hoped when they dragged out.

You felt eyes on you though, and not just the bartender who noticed your bored face. They were piercing your backside, making you a bit uncomfortable.

You reached into your purse, ready to pay and dip when a man sat next to you abruptly, making you jump. “Hey.” He spoke with a sigh, leaning on the counter.

“..Hi.” You scanned him quickly, your guard up as you clutched your purse. “Sex on the beach?” He said, referring to the drink you had finished. “That’s so painfully sweet I can feel my teeth rotting.” He snarled his lips, making you crack a little laugh.

“Yeah, uhh it was recommended to me by a friend but it’s..ok? I guess,” you shrugged, twirling the chain of your purse. “Lemme get you a real drink,” he waved down the bartender, ordering something you weren’t familiar with. That was smooth, you thought, smirking amusingly to yourself.

You scanned him more carefully now, he had shoulder length hair that curled at the ends, a baby blue button down that rolled up to his elbows, black jeans and some sneakers. He paired his shirt with thousands of hair ties and colorful silly bands wrapped around his wrists, making you giggle a little.

He had a beautiful hooked nose and plump pink lips that spread nicely across his teeth when he cracked a joke with the bartender. He turned back to you, and that’s what the piercing feeling was. Those sharp, intense blue eyes he held.

You realized he was waiting for you to respond, “I’m sorry, what'd you say?” He chuckled a little, “I said what’s your name,” he looked at you over his glass, sliding yours over to you. You took a drink, the strong taste burning your throat.

He wasn’t kidding about getting you a real drink. You coughed out your name, holding your chest as he laughed at you. “Too much?” He tilted his head slightly.

“Just a little,” you smiled through your cough you managed to choke down. “What’s yours?”

“Jack, nothin’ too special, yeah-I clearly wasn’t the favorite child.” He shrugged, making you giggle. “Jack isn’t that bad of a name, it’s simple.” You shrug, bouncing your leg attentively as you listen to him.

“And simple is boring, s’not as nearly as unique as yours,” he shook his head as he threw his drink back, seemingly swallowing it with ease.

You were still working on yours, circling the rim with your nail. “Well duh, everyone can’t be uniquely named, the world needs boring people like you to balance it out,” you joked, smiling over your glass as you watched him scoff.

“like me??” He laughed, “Hey you said it I’m just agreeing with ya’,” you put your hands up in defense, looking to the side as he laughed at you, making you join him.

“Okay, since you’re so unique, what'd you do for a living?” He said, bobbing his head snarkily, making you roll your eyes.

Your sarcasm paired up perfectly with each other’s, each monotone joke bounced off the last. And he was so smooth, you were kind of in awe that he got you talking so much, if someone would’ve told you you would’ve been here just ten minutes before you’d probably scoff and nod it off.

You found yourself growing closer to him, your knees sat pretty between his legs that were spread wide on the side of you, and with the way you were leaning in close to talk to him because of the music blaring he had the perfect view of your perched up tits in that pretty, pearl white mini dress you wore that accentuate your curves oh so well.

You only caught him staring sometimes.

Okay, a lot.

You smiled at him as he told a story about one of his friends, a little tipsy but still trying to pay attention, though all you could look at were his arms, his shirt hugged his muscles perfectly, the top buttons open a bit, allowing you to see some of his collarbone, making you internally bite your lip.

“Moral of the story, don’t let the stocky, already scary looking lesbian trip set your first time smoking,” he shook his hands and you shared a laugh.

“Can I buy you a drink this..time?” You asked, clearing your throat when you realized how sloppy you sounded, some of your words slurring.

He chuckled at you, “Yeah, don’t give me any bullshit though, nothing too sweet,” he said as you waved down the bartender, and you felt his hand trail up from where it previously sat on your knee to your thigh, his thumb pressing into your skin as he cupped your soft flesh, starting to rub inward.

“Try this, it’s not too bad in my opinion,” you watched him take a sip, his brow raising as he looked up in thought.

“Okay, that’s not too terrible, ‘can still feel my molars cracking, though.” He nodded, making you roll your eyes and chuckle a little.

Your brows furrowed as you watched him sit his cup down, a ring? He’s married???

You grabbed his hand by his ring finger, raising it up. “Oh?”

“Oh,” his face flushed a bit, “Yeah.” Was all he said. “You’re married? At a club—at,” you got your phone out with your free hand to check the time, “One am??”

“Lemme explain,” he put his hands out in defense. “I swear she knows I’m here.”

“She does,” you nodded, furrowing your brows again as you looked to the side, taking a drink. What a shame, you thought. I really liked him too.

“I promise she does, we-okay, man I really didn’t wanna get into this part of my life here,” He cracked a laugh, but you didn’t follow.

“We’ve been having some..problems. Long story short, I lost both parents, and we lost our baby.”

“..Oh.” Yeah, uh—don’t say you’re sorry, I get it literally every day, and it’s almost been a year.”

You nodded, just not saying anything. “And we’ve been arguing day to day, and always going to bed angry, and work has been hell for both of us, so she suggested we go on separate trips with some friends to clear our heads and maybe get the weights off our shoulders.”

Nodding, you take another drink, hoping it’d help you get past this. “Okay, I get that.”

“kay, good. Can we keep this going? Is it weird now? I should’ve worn the ‘I love my wife’ shirt she brought me,” he shook his head as he brought his glass up to his mouth, making you giggle.

“Yeah, we can. How long ‘you been married?”

You listened to him talk about his seemingly loveless marriage, though only had been together a little over four years, and now it made sense why he was here, talking to you. He wanted an escape. A different woman, just for the night. you could give that to him.

“This is my first night here in this town, I’d say it’s going pretty well,” He smiled, his eyes bouncing from your lips, to your breast and lower.

You smiled back before downing the rest of your drink, “Wanna dance?” You took his hand and stood him up before he could answer.

“Uhh,” he stammered, quickly downing his own before following, “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Well I do, you’ll be fine. Just follow me.” “Seriously, I really don’t. Like it’s bad, I’m so bad.”

You laughed at him, stopping near the back of the club where a dip is easily found but with people still around you.

“You a quick learner?” You put his hands on your hips as you pressed your back to his chest. “Somewhat,” he swallowed hard, his fingers pressing into your skin.

“good, just follow me, ok? follow my moves,” you looked back and up at him, him nodding at you in confirmation. neither of you recognized what song was playing, but that didn’t matter to you as you swayed along to the sensual singing, grinding against him with each snare of the beat.

he moved his hips with you, stepping side to side, making you giggle. “jack, you’re moving like a grandpa. loosen up,” you laughed, and he laughed with you, “I told you I don’t know how,” he trailed his right hand up your hip, cupping your boob as his left held a tight grip on his waist, rubbing inward to hold your stomach.

you held his hand softly as you bit your lip, keeping your body close to his, not that you really had a choice. he was so pressed against you you’d thought your body’s would fuse, the feel of his hard on against your ass as he finally swayed smoothly with you made you let out a shuddery breath.

“that’s it,” you praised him, to which he only hummed as you moved your head out the way when you felt his lip glide against your ear to your jaw to your neck, planting soft kisses to your skin, sending heat straight to your core.

you held his head as he worked on your neck, feeling his hand inch under your tiny dress, the side of his index grazing your clit, making you gasp lightly.

he hummed into your neck as he continued prodding at your clit with his thumb, the side of his index rubbing you between your folds. you moaned quietly, gripping his wrists slightly as you grinded back against him, simultaneously moving against his bulge.

“jack,” you gasped, feeling just how hard he was against you. “bathroom?” he breathed into your ear, and you nodded frantically, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the nearest bathroom you knew, not bothering to fix your dress that was pulled up slightly because of him.

you knocked quickly, opening the door once you didn’t receive anything back. you flicked on the light, throwing down your purse before he pushed you against the door, shutting it with your back and smashing you in a kiss, his hands holding your face as you found his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists as your kiss deepened.

you tried not to think about the cold metal of his ring on your cheek as you kissed him, trying to not let the guilt get to you. and luckily, you were drunk enough to let it slip your mind quickly, your focus being on how he lifted you onto his thigh, his knee against the door as he moved you against his thigh by the tight grasp of his hands.

you gasped, moaning into his mouth at the pleasure shooting through you, gripping his biceps as your pussy throbbed against his jeans, feeling yourself dampen, listening to his heavy breathing between the kiss and your moaning.

your hands found the buttons of his shirt, undoing them as quick as you could with your acrylic nails clacking against each other. you flung it open as you got the rest undone, kissing from his collarbones and down his toned chest sloppily, nails grazing his skin as you slid down his thigh onto on his shoe, right against your cunt.

“please baby,” he whimpered, his hand finding his way into your hair, cradling the back of your head as you eagerly unbuttoned his pants, freeing his erection, almost hitting you in the face.

he was surprisingly pretty down there, was nicely trimmed but not overly bushy or too clean shaven, he had about a good 6.5, maybe even seven inches on him with great girth, that curved to the right slightly, veins going up to his mushroom tip red and oozing pre cum impatiently, waiting on you.

you were honestly salivating, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or your incurable oral fixation. you spat in your hand, stroking him quickly while you peered up at him with wide, blown out eyes, already seeing his head thrown back as he let out a groan, his thumb caressing your head and tightening his grip.

your tongue circled his tip, sucking it slowly before inching more of his length into your mouth until you got to the base, careful not to gag. he let out a guttural groan, his stomach dropping at the feel of your wet, warm tongue around his throbbing cock.

he put a hand against the tile wall to hold himself up as he watched you take him, a grunt coming from him each time you gagged around him. “you’re doing so good sugar, holy fuck,” he moans, brows knit together and mouth ajar as he looked into your eyes, moving the hair off your tear stained cheeks.

he groaned again, watching his cock disappear into your mouth, loving how your lips looked wrapped around him like this. you sucked around the tip quickly, hollowing out your mouth as spit dripped onto his cock and your thighs, stroking the rest of his length that you weren’t focused on.

that sent him over, he was spewing groans and curses out of his mouth like they were scriptures, eyes squeezing shut and head throw back, chest heaving.

“that’s it baby, fuck you’re so good, so fucking good,” he whispered, moving his hair out of his own face. he took yours into a makeshift ponytail with his fist, “hold still, ok?” was the only warning he gave you, and before you could register what he could’ve meant he thrusted his cock into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat, making you gag.

he pushed your head onto his dick as he fucked your throat to match his thrusts, and you couldn’t control your gagging as your eyes rolled back, gripping onto his thighs for support.

“Yeah just like that baby, good girl,” he groaned, fucking into your mouth faster. you whimpered, your jaw starting to hurt but you felt his thrusts falter in consistency, so you knew he was close.

he swallowed hard above you, letting out low mm mm mm’s and grunting with each thrust, hearing you gag and moan, the vibrations making him twitch in your throat.

he sped up, shoving your head down even tougher now with each thrust, “look at you,’ takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he praised, other hand holding your cheek affectionately.

“oooh fuck i’m gonna cum, fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he whimpered, his lip tucked between his teeth, brows knit together before he held your head down on him, nose tickling his pubes as hot spurts of cum shot into your throat, a relieved sigh and heavy breaths coming from Jack.

he pulled off slowly so he wouldn’t waste a drop, holding his tip to your lips as the last little spurts of cum shot onto them. “you gonna spit?” he asked you, putting himself away.

you licked your lips and swallowed, holding onto his jeans as you stuck your tongue out, “Swallowed? good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled something about his wife, along the lines of “never swallows” but you were too fucked out to care.

he held your chin as he stood you up and kissed you, hands between your thighs again, rubbing your clit in circles. he pulled away from your lip and got onto his knees, pulling your dress up and sliding your underwear down as he peppered kisses up your thighs, backing you up against the wall again.

he kissed your folds as if to make out with your actual lips, his nose bumping against your clit, making you whimper, brows knit and eyes squeezed, hands laced between his locks, nails gliding over his scalp.

“needa taste, have ta’ have you,” he rasped, his breath hot over your slit. Jacks finger spreading in a V over your throbbing cunt, pressing so he spread you, clit puffy and presented to him.

Flattening his tongue, jacks eyes lifted to yours, licking a long stripe from your glistening hole to your clit, his eyes filled with lust as they eyed you and you only, already starting to fog over and he barely got a taste yet.

he pushed his tongue in you with eagerness, groaning at the taste, the vibrations making you clench down on him, your back arching upwards as you grind against him.

you fisted his hair as you held his held down, bobbing his tongue into you as you rode his face, his eyes rolling back and lashes fluttering at your needy, desperate actions.

you moaned mantras of his name as he dug you out, moaning out when he inserted both fingers into you at once, pulling his hair back at the pleasure. You were reactive, squirming with pleasure, a new rush of adrenaline and ecstasy flooding through your system, his tongue reaching a new area that had your head spinning.

he loved it, every second of it. he loved how you moaned squeakily when your clit hits his nose at the right angle. he loved how you pulled his hair when he hit a sensitive spot, it made him leak all onto the floor.

he grabbed you by the thighs, turning you around so your face and fingers were pressed against the tile wall and your legs spread for him, pussy and ass on display.

he grabbed at the flesh, keeping you down on his as he fingered you at an unforgiving pace while his tongue stimulated your clit, your slick trailing down his arm.

he spread his thick fingers inside you, scissoring you at a brutal pace, and you swear you saw stars, legs shaking as you moaned his name loudly, drooling on the tile as your mouth formed an “o” shape.

“oh jack, awe fuck jack i’m gonna cum, m’gonna cum!” you sobbed, gasping at hiccuping as he sped up his fingers, eyes rolling back into your head.

“oh m’god, my god my god my god fuck, jack!” you came on his fingers, legs shaking endlessly and drawn out moans exiting you, trying to come down softly but he just kept circling your clit with his tongue, overstimming you :(

he pulled out his fingers, moaning as he sucked your cum off of them, lashes fluttering. he stood, rubbing his hard dick as his other hand rubbed your ass, catching his breath.

you babbled nonsense, your head spinning as you came down from your high. “so good, so good so good so good,” you whispered, chest heaving.

jack rubbed his tip against your soaking, pulsing hole, a hand wrapped under your stomach, his lips parted slightly, head filled with the thought of filling your aching pussy. somewhere in the midst of that “so good,” he whispered, “slidin’ in,” in your ear, proceeding to slide his cock in you in one swift, slow motion, making you choke and moan out loudly, way louder than what he let out.

your walls hugged him perfectly as he bottomed out, never feeling as full as you did now. “jack,—gasp—jack! awe!” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as your brows furrowed to the sky, feeling as if you were fusing with the tile.

he rested his cheek against your head, panting into your hair as his arm planked on the wall, other arm wrapped around your torso, pushing deeper into you, emitting a low groan. “oh yes baby, ohhh yes, so tight” he moans, his hair falling into the peripheral vision of your barely open eyes.

your moans fought each other as he thrusted into your slowly, gripping your body as you clenched around him involuntarily. “you’re so wet baby, fuckin’ look at that,” his eyes were glued on your pussy lips and he he disappeared into you, sucking him greedily as he shoved your body back.

“such a good, hungry pussy for me.” he groaned, speeding up, fucking you deeper, your moans drawing out with each drag of his cock. you felt him all over your skin, the pleasure consuming you as he fucked you dumb, and he only just started.

“my god jack, my god you’re so good, so fucking good,” you damn near whined, tears swelling as your stomach heaved.

“I know baby I know,” he whispered, kissing your head tenderly, and he swore it made you wetter. “wish I could take you home with me, can’t’ get enough of these pretty fuckin’ moans sugar.” he slapped the side of your ass, making your hiccup.

“you think she’d mind? arriving with this pretty thing on my hip?” he sped up, and you didn’t even think it was possible for him to get deeper, feeling him in your fingertips and heels, your toes curling.

“shit baby, think she’d watch, huh? watch me f-fuck the life outta you as if you were the one i married?” he chuckled breathily, and you felt him graze that spongy, sensitive spot, making you gasp and your back arch, not even giving you time to register the shit that spews out of his mouth.

“oh jack right there, please right there baby right there,” you begged, clenching around him. he sat up, gripping l the fat of your tailbone to pull you back onto him even closer, arching your back more. “here baby? right here?” he panted, sending love taps to your newfound sweet spot.

each little thrust against it sent you moaning whiney, nose scrunched, eyes shut, and mouth agape, forming a “O” shape. “there it is,” he groaned, suddenly slamming into that spot repeatedly and mercilessly, his free right hand intertwining with yours that was pressed against the tile, locking fingers, his cheek hot against your hair.

“oh jack, oh jack don’t stop, don’t fucking stop! oh my god!” you cried out, letting out loud ‘awe awe awe’s as he abused your pussy.

you felt your stomach tie up as he didn’t let up his pace, ramming himself into you with raspy panting and low babbling, not even forming coherent sentences. “gonna ruin me baby,” you heard from him, “takin’ me so fuckin good, so fuckin good,” he’d pant.

you screamed out, gripping his interlocked fingers in yours as your dam broke, “oh jack! m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum! awe, oh!!” you hiccuped and cried.

“breath baby breath, you got it,” he cooed, reaching down and playing with your clit. and just like that, your damn broke. you came with a gasp and a raise of your brows, moaning loudly, almost boardering pornographic.

“oh fuck baby, fuck baby you’re squirting,” he sounded elated, putting pressure on your clit as he drew wide circles around it, pulling more moans and fluids out of you, staining his boxers and thighs.

“ooh baby, ooh baby it’s too much, too much you’re too good,” you whined, holding his hand tighter. you were out of it, eyes glossy and big as you looked back at him, tears still welled in your eyes as they rain down your cheeks too.

you watched his lashes flutter, god did he look gorgeous. his hair stuck adorably to his forehead as he watched you suck him in, cheeks flushed pink and lips newly glossy with spit.

“cmon baby, I know you can take more. look at you, so fuckin’ greedy f’me,” he groaned, his head rolling over as he watched your pussy drool around him, throbbing inside. he groaned, the sound of your juices squelching sending him through the roofs. “never had pussy like this before, gotta savor it, alla’ it.”

“oh my god baby, gonna fucking cum, mmm i’m gonna fuckin’ cum, oh fuck,” he croaks, his hand moving to grip your hips, pushing into you and shoving you more into the tile as he rammed into your recklessly, chasing his release.

his orgasm hit him like a train as he came inside of you, groaning and panting heavily, eyes shutting as you both tried to catch your breath. he wraps his arms around you and lays his head on yours, you whining softly as he mumbled praises to you, kissing your head with, “so good, did so fuckin good for me,” sprinkling some pretty girl’s in there before he pulled out, careful not to hurt you.

he sat you on the toilet as he cleaned you up with a wet paper towel, making you and himself look presentable again, fixing his shirt and putting you back in your underwear, bringing your dress back to it’s original length.

“thank you,” you mumble, thinking he was just gonna slip off after cumming. “f’course. you were so good, I wish I could take you home,” he sighs, kissing you softly, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“how long are you gonna be down here?” you ask between kisses, and thankfully he had a few days left.

he slips his number into your purse as you follow him to the mirror, him wiping your cheeks as you fixed your hair, surprised it still looked good, although you couldn’t say the same for your makeup.

he said nothing but kissed your forehead before he left, and you followed soon after, finding your friends to tell them about your little hookup.

a/n: ahh that was so long i’m sorry! I had a lot of fun with this if you couldn’t tell, it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while :) I hope you enjoyed!

#x black reader #rory culkin smut #rory culkin #jack goes home #jack thurlow #jack goes home smut #rory culkin n reader #jack thurlow smut #jack thurlow prompt

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