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alottiegoingon · 5 months

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art fair

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: jackie taylor is the elementary school's art teacher.

warnings: too much fluff, jackie and reader being adorable, not proofread

you weren't expecting to stay for any longer than five days this time. that was the initial plan and the words you had said to your parents on the phone before you arrived to wiskayok, new jersey.

the second high school was over, you took the first bus to new york and never looked back. okay, never was a strong word. despite the strong feeling you had to free yourself from the place where you had an awful time in high school, sometimes you would come back to visit your family and your sister, in special.

not wanting to miss her growing up, you had to work extra shifts on the bookstore to pay for a decent looking car, capable of going back and forth from new jersey to new york twice in a month.

now, it was an special occasion. for her 8th birthday, you promised her that you would spend the week in your family home and spend time doing fun things. and by fun things, she meant fun things for her.

the first thing you were asked as soon as you put your feet inside was "what did you get me?"

after wishing your sister a happy birthday and watching her open her present, you sink into the couch with drowsy eyes after some good two hours driving, feeling exhausted. you were so tired that you weren't even paying attention to what the small human full of energy was chattering around you.

"what do you think we should do first? we can go roller skating!"

"bug, i hate roller skating. you know that." god, you remember the last time you fell on your face. you wore a purple eyes for weeks.

"...or we could go get me new books! mom promised me you would go out with me." she keeps talking, not paying attention to you. that was going to be a very long week.

the very next day, you could barely open your eyes when your sister forced you to wake up early and drive her to school, affirming that it was part of the birthday package you promised her even though you didn't actually recall that

[🎨]

you had the brilliant idea to go straight home after dropping the kid at school and sleep for the rest of the day. or until she got home with quick loud steps and a vibrant high-pitched voice.

your great idea fell apart when you were effectively blackmailed by a tiny human dragging you to her classroom, excited to show you everything. you weren’t even sure if you were allowed in there but you followed her anyway.

"that's cool, bug! you did that?" you encouraged her regardless of the many screams of the other kids hurting your ears, right after seeing the paint strokes in a small canvas forming the figure of a person. for a eight year old, the kid had some actual talent. it was better than what you could do.

she nods, extremely proud of herself. "ms. taylor is teaching us how to paint for next week's art fair. you’re coming, right?"

five days. five days was all you could do. it was a pain in the ass to convince your boss to let you skip work for a week and you only managed to do it cause she was a friend of the family. more than that and you would turn into a jobless woman.

“i’ll see what i can do, alright?” you get on your knees to match her height. “now i’m gonna go home and later we can watch…” your voice trails off when your attention is stolen by a woman entering the classroom.

wearing baggy and colorful clothes with glasses that made her look even more attractive, she had a few books threatening to fall from her hands and loose paper sheets. nothing like the old women you used to have for a teacher when you were young.

“good morning, party people! sorry i’m late today.” she doesn’t seem to notice you, too busy and overwhelmed while organizing her desk. she was probably used to be surrounded by loud gremlins all the time, you thought.

she was about to say something but her lips closed after not even a second, knitted brows and an uncertain but polite grin painted on her face. “oh, and i think we have a visitor today.”

and your world fully stops when she looks at you. flushed cheeks as you were practically drooling.

“that’s my sister, she's visiting for my birthday!” the little one fills the awkward silence, not looking like she cares about your unexpected loss of words.

“aw, this is so sweet.” she frowns for a second and all of sudden, her eyes are on you “and are you having a good time down there?” she chuckles, causing your heart to skip a beat, and only then you notice your knees hurting. you were still on the floor, looking like a full time idiot. you hear the other kids the room laughing as well.

“yeah, i was just… tying her shoes.” you stand on your feet as quickly as possible, nearly losing balance.

“no, you weren’t. my shoes don’t have-.” your hand flies over your sister direction to cover her mouth.

your legs were feeling like thin sticks as you walked towards the light haired woman, extending your hand to her. “hi, sorry.” you said falteringly.

“it’s all good. i like to stay on the floor sometimes too.” she offers you an empathetic smile. “i’m jackie.” she finally shakes your hand.

“jackie.” you echo her, subtly shaking your head. it felt like you were absorbing her name into your soul. even her name sounded like something that could be in a movie. “hi. i’m-“

“i know. your sister talks a lot about you. but i guess i wasn’t expecting you to be like this.” you freeze again.

“like what?" your voice trembles as you ask.

she didn’t say anything but you feel her eyes wandering around you while she smiles.

jackie gave you an excuse, apologizing for interrupting the conversation but emphasizing how she desperately needed to start the class. she was already late and you felt bad for taking so much of her time.

“it was nice to finally meet you.” is all she says and you made sure to say it back. before walking through the door, you quickly wave at your sister, not wanting to disrupt them anymore.

you immediately gave up on the idea of sleeping for the entire day. how could you when you had just met jackie taylor?

overthinking everything was like a piece of cake for you, as easy as blinking. but it wasn't hard to overthink things when jackie's first impression of you was probably a terrible one, knees on the floor and making a fool of yourself.

you were happy to welcome your sister back home from school, disregarding the fact that she told your parents that you were drooling over her art teacher on your damn knees. how can kids remember so much?

wanting to know more about her very interesting teacher, with ice cream for dinner, you succeeded in finding out that jackie taylor wasn't a married woman.

"why do you wanna know that?" you struggle to understand the few mumbles thanks to her stuffing her mouth with ice cream.

"okay, i think you had enough." you whisper, slowly moving the bowl away and ignoring her question.

[🎨]

for the next two days, between a bookstore visit or going out for ice cream, you would give jackie taylor a thought. not because you cared or was interested, of course, you were just curious. and you wanted to fix the impression you made on her.

"are you driving me today?" was the question you were asked every morning.

too tired, too sleepy, too early, bad headache, terrible cramps. were all the excuses you gave her so you could have a few more hours of sleep. until the third day.

"school is starting soon!"

"hmm, i don't know if i'm taking you... i'm feeling so-"

"ms. taylor's class is the first one today." you notice her playful tone. she knew you too well.

"good. i'm actually feeling so good today." fast as the wind, you shoot out of the bed.

"you don't have to walk me there anymore. i'm not a baby." the eight year old complains as she notices you following her inside.

"sure, i know. i just wanna make sure you're safe." that wasn't a full lie. yes, you were looking forward to talk to jackie again, but you still cared about your sister.

[🎨]

you were fifteen minutes earlier that the actual class time and by the time you walk into the room, jackie was already there. with your sister going straight to talk to her friends, that was your chance.

"good morning." you timidly knock on the halfway open door, not wanting to scare her.

"hello there!" jackie closes the book that was laying on her big desk in front of her, fixing her gaze on you. lips curving upward. "not tying any shoes this morning?" standing up, she adjusts her slightly crooked glasses as she watches you get closer.

"not today, no. too hard to find any customers." you join her tease, feeling like you have been blessed as she laughs.

"you should try the art exhibition next week. lots of shoes to tie in there." you caught yourself thinking that she may be flirting with you but maybe you were just going crazy for drinking so much coffee lately.

"i would love to tie some stranger's shoes on a school event." playing along, all you could think was that you urgently had to stay for more than just five days. time to beg your boss twice.

"nice! i'll see you there, then." about to end the conversation, jackie's smile widens and the simple act almost makes you fall on your knees again.

"actually..." you fight to not stumble over your words as you create the fastest excuse ever to see her again. "my sister and i are going out for roller skating tomorrow. you should join us."

jackie's gaze lifts back at you, eyebrows raising in curiosity.

"why should i?" she had the casual smirk adorning her face, probably enjoying this entire situation much more than you.

"because... we're going to a park nearby and there's a few tables in there. what's greater to an art teacher than a pretty view to paint?" you were quite proud of how quick your mind worked.

jackie seems to take a brief moment to think about your words, even though she had already made her mind minutes ago.

"it's a deal."

"what? you hate skating. remember when you had a purple eye? that was funny." you turn around to find your sister standing by the door, giggling at the memory of your swollen face. jesus, for how long she was in there?

[🎨]

you met jackie at the park after spending the entire day double-checking your helmet and all of your safety equipment. you couldn't afford to fall again. not this time.

with a huge bag and many art supplies, jackie carefully placed everything on the picnic table while being squeezed in a hug by your sister. the first thing you noticed was how jackie dressed the exact same way out of school. free of any boring clothes and with no glasses this once.

"you actually came." you shyly mirror her grin.

"of course i did. i need to paint something for the fair and i thought that the good old blue sky and pretty trees would do the job."

"so an empty canvas is what made you come?" nervously, your eyes dart back and forth at the brushes on the pine table and her eyes.

"not just that. i think the companny is pretty rad too."

after feeding the ducks with your sibling, you joined jackie by sitting in front of her. she appeared to be so relaxed even when being so gentle and cautious with the paint. you couldn't help but feeling at ease as well.

"found something worthy of being painted by you?"

jackie looks at you over the canvas with rosy cheeks and a contented smirk, affirming with her head. "i think i did."

"it's nice of you to stay longer." her narrowed focused eyes are back on her work, sometimes meeting yours.

you didn't remember telling jackie that it wasn't on your initial plan to stay that long and as if she was capable of reading minds, she snorts before explaining herself.

"she told me you wouldn't be here for the art exhibition." her head points at your sister, skating around the small lake.

"she really does talk a lot about me." you joke, referring to what jackie said when you first met her.

"why did you?" eyes locked on the piece of work, jackie tries to sound unbothered.

"stay longer?" she agrees silently.

"i figured that i really like art. and i couldn't miss such an important event for her."

"so your love for art was what made you stay?" jackie questioned and, once or twice, you would catch her more concerned glance at you.

"not just that. i think the art teacher is pretty rad too."

in the middle of longing stares and jackie blushing for the first time, you hear a childish voice calling you.

"aren't you coming? you're so boring!"

snapping out of the jackie taylor effect, you realized that you still haven't fulfilled your promise to skating with your sister.

jackie, not worried about the painting anymore, quickly put on her rollers with a huge beaming expression. without a single effort to stay still on those things, you became aware of how experienced she was.

"come on, i'll help you out." standing in front of you, she offers you a hand and you don't wait much to accept it.

[🎨]

you were a nervous wreck when the big day came and it wasn't even your works that were going to be exposed to people. in honor of jackie, you tried to wear something formal like a nice looking suit and elegant shoes. a bit too much for a simple school event but it was much more than that to you.

at school, you were surrounded by an impressive quantity of paintings already framed on walls. some of them were adorable, made by younger students.

being pulled by your sleeves, you spend a few minutes in the area where your sibling's works were hanging in and seeing her so happy made you pleased to your decision to stay.

with a single poppy in hands, you find jackie talking to someone, probably a parent. at the exact moment your eyes met, she quickly excuse herself from the conversation to walk towards you with energetic steps.

"all of this looks amazing. you look amazing." is all you can say, not caring about the ear to ear grin on your lips.

"hi! you look great too. i like the suit. so fancy." her hand tenderly brushes over your shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of your clothes.

"it's a special occasion, right? and, here, i got you something."

jackie's face radiates happiness at the second she sees her favorite flower being handled to her, eyes sparkling at you.

"thank you! how did you know i like them?" she tucks the flower into her hair, prettier than ever.

"you know, she talks a lot." you two share a laugh. "aren't you gonna show me your work?"

as her silky hands covered your eyes from behind you, she guides you to the wall with all of her artworks.

"you ready?" your nod in response and she let go of your eyes.

as soon as you open them, one specific framed canvas catches your attention. it was jackie's first view from when she was sitting at the picnic table the other day. you and your sister feeding the ducks on the lake, with the exact same clothes you were wearing. there was no doubt.

"jackie..." you gasp, stunned, jaw almost hitting the floor.

"you like it? i thought it would be something worthy to paint." she's nervous. you can hear her shaky voice as she speaks.

instead of saying something, you spin around to face jackie behind you. with trembling hands, you trace her jawline before pulling her in for a kiss.

you were a big fan of art now.

#jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

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Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel.

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate.

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity.

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,” some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples.

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan.

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day.

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles.

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv.

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.”

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.”

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping.

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins.

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho.

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send.

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate.

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats.

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything.

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out.

Your phone buzzes.

Trying to find my shirt

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?”

“My tiger tank.”

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones.

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.”

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?”

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.”

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.”

“Thanks.”

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this?

You grab your phone.

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response.

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting.

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.”

Thanks

“Chan!”

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed.

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?”

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply.

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?”

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time.

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out?

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone.

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.”

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow.

He does. “Wait, what?”

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you.

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?”

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up.

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?”

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly.

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’”

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you?

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.”

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll.

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words.

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle.

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles.

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug.

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go.

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?”

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.”

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?”

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?”

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…”

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh.

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.”

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips.

“You good?”

Funnily enough, somehow, you are.

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you.

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently.

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.”

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling.

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face.

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?”

“If you - what?”

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.”

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to.

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again.

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.”

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach.

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest.

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.”

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction.

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?”

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!”

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth.

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses.

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again?

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine?

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting.

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses.

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop.

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun.

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.”

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?”

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame.

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly. He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker.

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want.

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you.

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly.

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.”

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs.

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.”

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused.

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild.

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him.

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern.

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.”

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down.

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.”

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you.

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock.

“Do that again, baby.”

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for.

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.”

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?”

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats.

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.”

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.”

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over.

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue.

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal.

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?”

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more?

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…”

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you.

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask.

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment.

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place.

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!”

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening -

“Fuuuuck!”

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth.

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling.

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times.

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.”

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!”

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over.

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.”

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.”

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later.

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #fic: coadm #bang chan fanfic

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blayresmuses · 2 years

Text

love spiral

summary: a turn in conversation has you asking uncomfortable questions that aemond can't help but answer.

warnings: ‘teach me how to kiss trope’, best friends to lovers, light smut

the leaves of the trees rustled above you as you lay with your head in aemond’s lap, your eyes closed as you listened to him read from some history book. the godswood was empty, peaceful - just how you liked it.

these moments the two of you had were sacred, buried away in the deepest chamber of your heart, a place so overwhelmingly filled with aemond targaryen. he was your childhood best friend, the person you’d grew up with through everything. you’d bickered and fought, played and learned together - you thought at times that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

‘i don’t think i’ve ever heard something so dull,’ you whined, opening your eyes and gazing up at him. ‘tell me one of your stories instead, they’re much more fun.’

he met your eye, lips quirked up in an amused smirk at the childish pout on your lips. ‘i don’t think my stories are suitable for a ladies ears.’ he went back to his book, flicking through the pages but no longer really reading. you often had this effect on his concentration, his focus disappearing at your slightest request.

‘now, now aemond,’ you urged, sitting up now and settling into the curve of his shoulder, the bark of the tree rough against your back. ‘you’ve never adopted that logic before so i advise you to tell me something before you bore me to sleep.’

aemond chuckled, a husky noise that settled deep in your belly, a feeling that scared you and excited you at the same time. ‘you advise me,’ he repeated, slamming the book shut and tossing it to the side. ‘i hate to remind you but i am a prince, if anything i should be the one advising you to be quiet and leave me in peace.’

‘where’s the fun in that?’ you took up a lock of your hair that lay on your shoulder, using it to run down his jaw, his lips and laughed as he squirmed. aemond looked so young, carefree and you were happy that in these moments you could bring it out of him, even if it did take pestering him to get it. ‘now tell me, my prince. did you visit the brothel last night? i’ve heard aegon has become a frequent visitor.’

aemond choked as if the air was too thick to swallow. he’d never truly adjusted to the blunt, brash ways you’d picked up over the years. you were a lady in every way but you also had a wickedness to you that he admired, adored even. he shook his head quickly, avoiding your eye. he actually hadn’t gone - he had in the past of course, shamefully often choosing women that resembled you in some way but it always left him feeling dissatisfied and frustrated.

‘what is it exactly that you do there?’ his head turned back swiftly at the softer tone of your voice, the slight vulnerability in your curiosity. he liked that he was the one you came to, the one to receive your thoughts. ‘i mean i have a slight idea but not the full picture-’

‘it is not for me to say,’ aemond interrupted. rough fingers caressed your jaw, his way of softening the refusal. you gazed at him, awed slightly by the thoughtfulness of his actions. you weren't some innocent doe, you'd heard gossip around court and the feelings they spoke of with men was what you were sure you had with aemond, you just had to explore it. ‘your husband. when that day comes, he’ll tell you.’

saying the words filled him with a deep sadness, a terrible sense of loathing at the imagined man who’d take that step with you, who’d show you something special that aemond wished he could have for himself. ‘but i want you to tell me,’ you insisted, resting your cheek in his palm. he couldn’t hide the flurry of emotions that rose in his eyes, his heart beat unevenly under his tunic. pictures of you played in his head, scenarios he’d imagined already a number of times. you rose up onto your knees, inching closer to him and aemond shook his head as if he could rid himself of these thoughts.

he wasn’t pure, wasn’t hindered by feelings of honour and morality like men could be. taking someone’s innocence, others wouldn’t even blink an eye, some would say it was a part of manhood but this was you. this special, remarkable being that deserved every good thing under the sun that sat in front of him and made him feel normal and wanted. the bond the two of you shared was an exceptional, one of a kind thing - even he knew that.

‘show me something,’ you said after moments of his silence. it was a demand, the determined jut of your chin and the spark in your eye told him such. he felt uncharacteristically lost, floundering under feelings and the sense of duty to do the right thing by you. ‘surely my husband would want me to know something, at least. teach me, aemond.’

how the conversation had taken this turn he didn’t know but with every word, with every second that passed with you looking at him so longingly his resolve weakened. he felt each second go past and the urge to kiss you there in the open took over until all that was left was primal need. ‘one thing,’ he agreed hoarsely, stomach turning over as you moved closer, your knee knocking into his as you leaned into him. ‘we can't actually do it but i’ll show you the general idea.’

before you could object his fingers slid through your hair, as gentle as the wind and stopped at the nape of your neck. they were clammy, his nerves really showing when they dug in, gripping you as if he were afraid you'd vanish or run. he had no problems with whores because they meant nothing but this was an entirely different situation, you were an entirely different girl. the two of you took simultaneous breaths as his thumb tipped your chin up.

a shiver ran down your spine as aemond lowered his mouth to the delicate skin of your neck. you felt him breathe in, his nose nudging against your jaw as if he wanted to commit your scent to memory. your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, nails digging in to your palms as he left a soft, closed mouthed kiss on your skin. you gulped from the simple touch and aemond paused, waiting for a reaction before he continued. you were shaking already, a fire starting to burn low in your tummy.

you felt another kiss and another, pressed so sweetly into your neck until you were huffing in frustration. then they got firmer, moving slowly in the direction of your collarbones that were exposed above your dress. his tongue slid against your skin, tasting you and aemond knew already he'd never forget this moment for the rest of his life, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem. his stomach clenched as you sighed, felt you moving slightly, rocking in to thin air as if you needed something to relieve the pressure. it gave him a maddening high, so innocent you were to get so needy from the slightest thing, from him.

‘that's it,’ he breathed. ‘it starts like that but on your mouth, not there.’ reluctantly, he pulled back just the slightest bit. your foreheads touched and he watched as you gulped in air, your cheeks flushed and your bottom lip swollen as if you'd been biting down on it. such a sight it made his heart ache.

‘i want that, show me more,’ you begged, hands coming to rest on aemonds shoulders as his mouth opened to object. ‘i don't care about how improper it is aemond, i care about you, about this.’

aemond was already weak, he didn't take much convincing and as he moved closer, the pace so slow you thought you'd thought you'd cry out in impatience. tenderly he tucked some hair behind your ear, so close you could feel his breath against your mouth. you suddenly felt nervous, remembering you haven't done this before. you could only sit there as his mouth finally pressed against yours once, twice, thrice - just like he'd done to your neck.

aemonds lips retreated only for you to follow eagerly, slotting your lips back together. the grip on your jaw grew tight as he fought desperately to keep his control. he felt like he still had it until you moved, climbed somewhat gracefully into his lap like you were born to be there, to be his. he couldn't fight it any longer, his fingers clutched at the heavy skirts of your dress, helping you get settled. if you felt him hard underneath you you didn't mention it, he wondered momentarily if you even knew what it meant, if you knew how badly he wanted you, had wanted you for years. you just slid down until you were pressed right against him and he swore he'd never known a pleasure like it.

you gasped in need into his mouth as the kiss grew messier. it was the epitome of a first kiss, an inexperienced, clumsy thing that grew more addicting as the time went on. your fingers tangled in his hair and with a confidence you didn't know you possessed your hips moved once slowly against his, testing the waters. a frenzied groan hit your ears, a shy feeling of power radiating off of you knowing that you could elicit a sound like that from a man of such station. ‘there isn't a thing i wouldn't give you,’ he murmured softly.

he didn't even give you the chance to answer before his lips were back on yours. almost immediately his tongue slid into your mouth and it was all you could do to try and keep up, the words having left you in a giddy, dizzied state. every nerve in your body was alive, burning so hotly you could only compare it to dragaonflame. you ached pleasantly where ever he touched, you wanted him everywhere at once. you wondered how far you would have taken it if it weren't for the gasp of horror behind you.

you pulled away as if shocked and aemond took one long glance at you, knowing what had happened, knowing you'd probably never be alone like this with him again anytime soon. your lips were swollen, red and now his, your hair was dishevelled but what really affected him was the panic in your eyes as you turned your head, making eye contact with one of the ladies of the court. he wanted to tell you that nothing bad would happen to you, not whilst he lived. one bad word against you and he'd draw his sword, no matter who it happened to be. the possessive, obsessed side of him reared his head at the thought of other people knowing about this moment, this precious occasion that was so sacred. he didn't want other men eyeing you, wondering what you felt like. it sunk in that he couldn't ever let you go.

he would have you forever, have your first everything.

the woman stared for a few seconds longer before turning and dashing off. you rose without looking at him, cheeks now red with what he assumed was shame and humiliation. you ran off, away from him. it hurt but he accepted it, only picking up his book again as he tried to process what had happened. he could have chased after her of course, threatened her not to tell a soul but he didn't.

he sat for minutes, listening to the silence, wishing you were there. with a quick change of heart he hoped it spread quickly, a dark thought that made him feel slightly disgraced - but the quicker everyone knew the sooner your father would appear with a marriage offer to sate the rumours.

it all worked exactly in his favour, he just hoped you’d see that in time.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fanfiction

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closetsof-backlogged-dreams · 5 months

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okay so I’ve seen and loved a bunch of these posts already but everything u say is immediately correct and amazing and sending u asks is the best

opinions on why zukka works and makes sense as a ship and if you think it could work in canon (outside of fanon)?

I CANT BELIEVE YOU JUST MADE MY ENTIRE LIFE COMPLETE AND FULL BY ASKING ME THIS QUESTIONNNN (strap in folks hold on to your hats keep a good hold on your bladders bc this is 10+ years worth of BUSINESS)

Why "Zukka" works and makes sense as a ship

something i've discussed THROUGHLY with my notes app and a school slides presentation is that Zuko and Sokka are both direct parallels AND contrasts to one another, at the same time. i'll list them out here:

Their fathers' roles in their lives

Both Hakoda and Ozai were the leaders of their respective nations, with Sokka and Zuko as the heirs. Then, they both become absent in their sons' lives and leave them to fend for themselves.

This is a parallel, but this is also where they contrast. Sokka's father left to go fight in the war, a noble and honest pursuit, and left Sokka to protect his sister and the village.

Ozai, on the other hand, cast Zuko out of the nation and forced him to protect and defend himself, while effectively turning all their people and his own sister against him.

Their sisters' roles in their lives

Despite both of them being the oldest sibling and brother, they both have severe inferiority complexes due to their younger, powerful bending sisters.

With Katara, she was the only waterbender in the entire tribe, a marvel. She could learn to protect the tribe in a way that Sokka had been trying all his life, and she eventually does. Despite all this, Katara is still a grounding and valued person in his life, and he would be completely lost without her (something he openly admits to in canon!!)

With Azula, she was a prodigy firebender, while also being a special kind of keen and cunning. She was adored by their father and grandfather and Zuko could never quite measure up. Because of this, Azula is the main villain in Zuko's childhood. She does everything she can to break him down, and that continues when she returns as a character in his life in season two. All throughout the show, instead of being a source of comfort and familial love, she is his main obstacle he must overcome.

The loss of their mothers

Both Sokka and Zuko lost their mothers at very young ages to the Fire Nation, but they had vastly different impacts on their families (and further developed their sisters' roles in their lives!!)

When Sokka's mother died, she was killed by a Fire Nation general. Katara quickly took over the motherly role in his life, cementing her place as a grounding and comforting force. Her death also did not break their family. It deeply hurt all of them, but Katara, Sokka, and Hakoda still loved one another just as much as before.

When Zuko's mother died (obviously not really, but this is what he believes for many years), she was "killed" in order for his father to ascend to the throne and become Fire Lord. This left Zuko without anyone to protect him from Azula's tormenting and cemented her place as a destructive, villainous person in his life. Ursa's death also did destroy their family. Whatever way she had managed to keep them all together was eradicated, and Zuko was left with a sister and father that resented him and a sister fighting for his place in the line of succession.

Their obessesions

Both Sokka and Zuko had two bone-deep obsessions that were very defining parts of their characters in the first season, that slowly wavered and faded away as the story progressed and they developed as people. They were both given these obsessions by their fathers immediately before they became absent in their lives (whether leaving themself or sending their son away) and proceeded to dedicate their entire life to these goals in the name of honor.

With Sokka, his father asked him to protect his sister and his village. Sokka then dedicates all his time and energy to becoming a brave soldier and training the children of the village in order to protect his people. This is seen further in season one even after they leave, when he is overly protective of Katara and constantly worried for her safety (something this fandom doesn't talk about enough!!)

With Zuko, his father sent him on a wild goose-chase to find the hundred-years-lost Avatar, and when he actually does, all he can do is chase after Aang so he can go back home. As we see in season three, letting go of capturing the Avatar was essentially letting go of his former self.

Unlearning their flawed cultures (the big one!!!!)

Both of their cultures had many flaws that became ingrained in their belief systems and characters; their whole development is dedicated to unlearning these flawed teachings and reorienting their perception of the world.

It is very obvious throughout the shows that the Water Tribe had strict gender roles that were both implicitly and explicitly taught from birth. The men go off to fight in the war, the women take care of the children, Sokka has to protect his "defenseless" little sister, etc. Suki helped start him on the journey of unlearning his deeply-rooted misogyny, and by the end of the series he's really drinking the Respect Women Juice™️ (unlearning the flaws of his culture also brought him much closer to his sister and strengthened their bond and respect for one another)

The Fire Nation is a lot more complicated with a lot more cultural nuances and implicit and explicit teachings, but we'll focus on one central cultural theme: the constant prioritization of ambition over absolutely everything else, including (if not especially) love. (I actually talk about this extensively in another analysis post about Azula, if you want to check that out<3) We see Zuko battle with this teaching all throughout the series, and it is the main conflict he faces, at its heart.

We watch him commit his entire life to capturing the Avatar in season one. We watch him betray his uncle in season two. We watch him, time and time again, put his own health and safety on the line trying to capture Aang, especially in season one. Constantly, over and over again, he puts his ambition first because that was what he was taught.

And though this is a trait him and Azula share, it is also what pits them against each other. Azula's entire character is built on putting ambition first, and that leads her to chasing the throne that is Zuko's birthright. Zuko just wants to go home, but that would reestablish him as the heir to the throne. Time and time again, we watch them fight and betray each other, constantly battling for this crown for a broken nation. In the end, it is Azula's undoing, but that's another post.

All in all, unlearning the flaws of their culture is central to their development as characters and a place where they parallel... but it is also a place where they directly (and perfectly) contrast.

Despite the cruelty of the Fire Nation, they are the only military that includes women. They seem to not really struggle with the same gender roles the rest of the world does. They may be colonizers, but they're not misogynists. Zuko never looked down on his sister because she was a woman, nor did her father. It was always her propensity for cruelty that undid her. (They even send a team of highly skilled women to capture the Avatar!!)

This is a direct contrast to the teachings of the Water Tribe, which are entrenched in misogyny and gender roles. The men go off to war, the women stay behind. The men are strong, the women are weak. Can you imagine how much Zuko could have assisted Sokka in his development here? (blah blah directly paralleling Suki's role in Sokka's life blah blah blah)

In the Water Tribe, love and family comes before everything. We see that time and time again. Sokka's main priority, every time, is his sister and his tribe. They stick together. They love one another. They are united, with one person leading them as a group but not standing over them like a tyrant. "Ambition" seems like a mostly unheard of concept in their nation. The only ambition we ever really see from Sokka is when he's trying to protect his tribe (season one finale)!!

Can you imagine how much Sokka could have helped Zuko unlearn his constant prioritization of ambition?? Like, come on. All the things Zuko was left to stew with and angst over all on his own Sokka could have gently taken into his own hands and shown him the way. Like, it actually makes me go feral just thinking about it. Sokka could have helped Zuko so much!! (pushing the Ba Sing Se Zukka AU rn)

Consensus

Okay, let's recap. It looks like Zuko and Sokka are both direct parallels and contrasts, paralleling in the ways that allow them to understand each other but contrasting in the ways that help them heal one another. Like, it's actually insane. I really don't know if it was intentional or not but it's really just so perfect. They slot together perfectly as characters. I hope this all made sense😭😭

Could "Zukka" work in canon?

Now, this is tricky. Believe it or not I'm actually really glad they didn't make Zukka canon. ATLA had a huge problem with writing good romance, and in the canon we saw in the show, neither Sokka or Zuko were in a place to get together.

I've enjoyed my fair share of Zukka AUs where they get together before the end of the war, but you and I both know that would have been a hot mess. (Both of them just weren't ready, they were both in relationships, and sorry but they were kinda busy—Katara was right about the whole "there are other things to worry about.") If they were ever to get together in canon, it would have to be years after the war ended.

Let's address a few things that needed to happen before they could ever have gotten together:

Finally admitting that Maiko was just an extreme example of comphet

Zuko did not give a single shit about that girl. Like. He didn't even personally go get her out of prison WHEN SHE WAS LITERALLY ARRESTED FOR PROTECTING HIM😭😭 And then they try to play off their story as some big epic romance?? uhhhh no

(really, Mai was in long-time unrequited love with Ty Lee that was finally requited after Boiling Rock but idk if society is ready for that yet)

Not to mention, Azula literally forced both of them into that relationship, but if I get started with that I'll never stop so. Moving on.

Figuring out Sokka and Suki

Okay, so while there is a good chance that Sokka and Suki could have made it work in canon, there is also a good chance they would have broken up. They both had very different priorities: while they both did care about overall world peace, it was obvious from Suki's first introduction that her Kyoshi Warriors were her top priority every time, and Sokka's was his tribe, his found family (Aang, Katara, Toph, Zuko, yk yk), and world peace at large. You're telling me those don't conflict? Especially because they really seem like a Piper/Jason situation, where they found comfort and love in each other during wartime but wouldn't have known how to keep up the relationship without the constant threat of death.

Overall, in order for Zukka to work, Sokka and Suki would have had to break up, which would not have been difficult to arrange.

Sokka needed to go home and begin rebuilding the Water Tribe

No matter how much I adore fics where Sokka stays behind in the Fire Nation and helps Zuko rebuild, it just wouldn't work. Sokka's obvious priority had always been his tribe. The second the war was over (ignoring the comics bc that's a can of complicated worms i don't want to get into), he would've gone back with Katara to work on rebuilding their destroyed tribe. Only once the Southern Tribe could stand steadily on its own two legs could he have even considered leaving.

Anyways, that's really it. In order for Zukka to work, three plot points would have to be resolved: Maiko, Sukka, and the reparation of the Southern Water Tribe. Extremely doable, imo.

Personality-wise and just as characters, would it have worked?

I really think it would have! Like I said before, Sokka and Zuko are two characters that perfectly parallel and contrast at all the exactly right points to make them slot together flawlessly as a pair. (Whether that's romantic or not—doesn't matter.) Really, I genuinely think they are a real missed opportunity. I have genuinely never seen two characters that seem so different that actually work that well together, or even just characters that work that well together at all.

Like, I really mean it, they are perfect matches. It's genuinely scary. Like it or not, no one will ever be able to replicate the perfection of what Zukka could have been.

Anyone that says that it's "random" or "doesn't work" obviously hasn't been watching the same show or simply just hasn't been paying attention. People might ship it just because it's opposites attract or red and blue or even just the most accessible MLM ship in the fandom, but they really are perfect for each other.

alright, I think that's it! sorry for this monster of a post😭😭 genuinely did NOT expect that to happen. PLS SEND ME ANY ASKS YOU CAN THINK OF ABOUT THESE TWO!! i have spent a concerning amount of time thinking about them and these show has analysis potential for days, so. (and who knows, maybe i'll finally post the like three unfinished fics i have for them💀💀 god knows i should)

thanks for the ask, and have a great day <3

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zukka #atla meta #atla ana #atla analysis #zukka nation #atla zukka #sokka x zuko #zuko #sokka #atla sokka #atla zuko

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hotchfiles · 7 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — four. delicate.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. content warnings: canon divergent. emotional cheating (not on reader). angst. right person wrong time. a bit of daddy issues on this one. no use of y/n. word count: 900+ .a/n: me taking my least engaged fic and making a series out of it? more likely than you think. summary based on himym's victoria and her theory.

previously

Aaron knocks on your door even though that is the least effective way to show you he’s there, hoping in some way this would delay the terrible thing he was about to do. He wishes he could pretend he didn’t know what you felt for him still existed rooted deep in your heart as it did his, and Aaron surely wishes his heart didn’t beat that fast as he heard Jack’s laughter and your voice about three times rougher than usual, apparently pretending to be some sort of monster.

He tried to be honest, but being honest to himself meant admitting that night was a succession of terrible choices only he could be blamed on. He was the one to ask if anyone at the BAU could watch over Jack as his sitter had been sick and Jessica was busy, he thought JJ or Spencer would offer to, but you did. And he accepted it knowing fully well he was leaving his son at your house so he could have a date with his girlfriend.

Your eyes were always your tell, he saw the hurt in then the moment he dropped Jack off, knowing clearly by his outfit that he was going on a date, a special one even.

That was another terrible choice, not explaining before why he needed someone to babysit Jack. You told him he looked nice and your voice didn’t crack but the fake smile you gave him made his heart break. And the one you gave Jack was even worse, watching you so genuinely happy taking him in your arms as if Aaron wasn’t being the biggest jerk was enough to throw him off balance the whole night.

His date wasn’t good, he was silent, more than usual, and it wasn’t fair. Beth was a good person, he loved her. Beth made him believe in something he thought he would never again, that little spark that faded the moment you left and crumbled when Haley died. Beth brought it back, she wasn’t some sort of placeholder as he waited for his true love to come knocking at his door. She was love, and stability. Someone Jack adored, someone he had built a relationship long lasting enough that Jack got accustomed to.

And his final terrible choice that led him to your door again, cutting the date short. Much shorter than Beth expected as they had planned it for weeks before. But he couldn’t face her. He couldn’t talk to her with the attention she deserved because all he thought about was your sad eyes to him and your warm smile to Jack.

He was a mess. He was hurting himself. And Beth. And you. And inevitably he would hurt Jack if he kept acting like that even though he was acting like that because he couldn’t change Jack’s life upside down again. It was always an impossible situation with you.

You know something’s wrong by his face and by the time he shows up at your door, he looks defeated, so you pull him inside instead of calling Jack to go home. You don’t ask him what’s wrong, you don’t want to know, you don’t want to hear him talk about his love life, instead you smile at him and place your hand on his cheek, rubbing the signs of age on his face lovingly, he closes his eyes and hold that same hand, leaning into it for just a moment.

“I gave Jack ice cream twice already so he’s in a hell of a sugar rush.” Your confession makes him laugh and breaks the intimacy of the moment, thankfully so. It was your intention after all, you couldn’t afford more than those tiny minutes. His eyes are accusatory, his mouth expresses his shock as he shakes his head in disappointment. “What? I want him to like me, everyone at the BAU has years of family time with him and I don’t.”

Jack comes from the kitchen yelling, the amount of daddy daddy daddy leaving his mouth per second probably breaking some record, Aaron takes him in his arms, throwing him in the air just high enough to get the boy giggling.

He forgets his dilemmas for that night, Beth’s messages and calls ignored on his phone as the three of you played together. Hide and seek, catch and even a bit of karaoke before it got too late.

Sleeping is hell when he gets home. He keeps thinking about everything he ever did wrong, how he almost cheated on Haley with you and then he let you go, and how he made Haley’s life miserable after that, so much so she ended up cheating on him–he couldn’t judge her for it. And how he was again on the same destructive path.

Fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree, his fidelity to the women he loved seemed to always come back as a question the universe begged to have an answer to: Are you really that different from your dad?

If it wasn’t for you, for your restraint, for your respect for his commitments, would he be able to defend himself from such accusations his own mind threw at him at night? If you didn’t leave the unit, if you didn’t leave his lingering hugs first, would he be a faithful man?

Would he be the man he wished Jack would grow up to be? The man he wished his own father was? Or would he just prove what his mother would constantly say, that he was merely his father’s son?

Those kept him awake until his mind couldn’t handle it anymore.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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alexiethymia · 2 years

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Listen, book!Lockwood who is so repressed that it just translates to beaming smiles has a special place in my heart, but at the same time I cannot stress how much I appreciate the live action series for showing us unbelievably exhausted Lockwood who’s so obviously scared that Lucy and George will eventually leave (willingly or otherwise) but still has the gall to push them away. My boy was barely pulling it together. And ofc he would be so tired that the bags under his eyes are so prominent because we’re outside of Lucy’s POV now. Lucy who’s always had rose-colored glasses when it comes to him.

Speaking of Lucy, I really do love how she calls him out. She’s so aggressive with her love. It’s like she’s demanding that George and her will love and care for him and there’s absolutely nothing Lockwood can do about it so he just better shut up and take it. Peak found family right there.

How that scene where Lockwood comes to apologize to Lucy in the kitchen had so much ‘husband in the doghouse’ vibes, and how ultimately what Lucy is really mad about is just her wanting Lockwood to value his life more. And for Lockwood to outright admit that yeah he was a bit suicidal but it’s a bit like he found a new reason for living because of Lucy and George, again I say PEAK FOUND FAMILY, this is my jam. The ease of which Lucy being Lucy calms him down. (Ugh, again the domesticity of choosing egg cups). He can’t stand when she’s mad at him and he learns about apologizing properly this time around, but when she wordlessly forgives him, you can see on his face how he could fall so quickly and deeply in love with her. That’s one thing I love so much about the live action series. While the book showed us more of Lucy’s feelings for Lockwood, I actually think the series highlights Lockwood’s feelings more in that if I hadn’t read the books beforehand, I could have easily seen it as Lockwood falling first. His abandonment issues are so prominent in the series and while they play it with humor with Fittes and Kipps, you can just see that desperation behind the lighthearted tone, and for Lucy to say that she chooses Lockwood and George anyway….!

This is basically an excuse to ramble about the little things they add in the series that I love so much, which works because we’re not restricted to Lucy’s POV, in no particular order:

How Flo can immediately see how Lockwood feels about Lucy because of the effect she has on him. Prior to that statement, she’d only met Lucy once before, but that brief meeting told her everything she needed to know. She probably knew Lockwood in the aftermath of his family’s death, so for her to see Lockwood just buttering someone’s else toast for them and being all domestic and smiley, treating another person like a family member especially considering how guarded he is, she must have thought (and rightly so) that meeting Lucy made him have an appetite for life again.

We actually get to see Fittes’ and Lockwood’s side of the fight! And it was awesome. “I’m Anthony bloody Lockwood.” I can no longer remember if that line was in the book or not but idc I love it.

George and Lucy’s scene was in the book, but the acting in the series just really sold it for me. How Lucy’s heart just broke hearing George talk about himself, especially everything he said then were feelings I’m sure she’s also had about herself. I seriously loved that last episode. George and Lucy were adorable. Again I say, found family ftw.

The rise of the Flo x George ship! “You, me, and herons!” Again I say, adorable.

There are some elements that work better in book format, but in many ways the tv series really did elevate this beloved book series. It was a wonderful, wonderful adaptation. As a reader, I couldn’t be more satisfied. As a shipper, I couldn’t be more ecstatic.

#lockwood & co.#lockwood and co #locklyle #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #george cubbins #flo bones #books #tv #I loved it so much #I thought pining lucy was bad enough #but pining lockwood??#omg I can’t believe we’re in the best timeline #if he’s already like this at this point #I can’t even imagine him should we reach The Hollow Boy and the aftermath of lucy leaving #he already had a death wish #he will no doubt end up unhinged at this rate when lucy leaves

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theharddeck · 10 months

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santa baby (been an awful good girl) // coyote x f!reader

pairing: javy coyote machado x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: coyote dresses up as santa + reader is only human = reader and coyote get it on in santa's workshop

word count: 6.6k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: unprotected sex, explicit PiV sex, a bit of dumbification, slight overstimulation, lowkey desecrating the concept of christmas but like in a hot way

A/N: i...i have no excuse. thinking of javy being dorky during sex has effectively ruined me. merry chrysler

The second Sunday in December was the tree-lighting at Miramar.

The event entailed, of course, the lighting of the tree at the center of base, but also a crafts market, an ugly-Christmas sweater competition, and breakfast-for-dinner, but most importantly: a meet and greet with Santa.

While it wasn’t required attendance for any of the Service members, most everyone who wasn’t on leave found some way to be involved. You found yourself at the cookie decorating station, trying to teach kids a modicum of restraint, and sneaking glances at your boyfriend over in Santa’s Workshop.

That’s right, Javy Machado – distinguished Lieutenant, Louisiana’s finest, and your personal hero – was currently drowning in red velvet and faux ermine, dressed up as jolly old Saint Nick. His diamond-sharp jawline was hidden behind a monstrosity of a fake beard, but he had managed to master the twinkle in his eye. The night was winding down, but he showed no waning energy, just endearing interest in each and every child that made its way into the small structure.

You could just barely see him through the front window of the Workshop, but every time you looked over at him, your heart fluttered.

It was the way he hunched his shoulders, clearly trying to diminish his size to make himself seem less intimidating.

It was the way he met each child’s eye, exuding comfort and kindness.

It was how after a couple of minutes, even the shyest child seemed to relax against him, how their smiles brightened and their giggles echoed around the family center.

You knew Javy was a total sweetheart, but it made you so proud to see how special he was making this Christmas for each of these kids, some of whom were having a dark season with their parents being deployed.

There was a clatter and you looked away from the workshop to find RJ, one of Payback’s kids, looking guiltily up at you, holding an entire paper plate covered in Snowman sprinkles. The faint outline of a sugar cookie was visible under the blue-and-white pile, but not by much.

Good thing it was only the ninetieth time this had happened today.

“Happens all the time,” you said brightly, keeping your voice happy so the kid wouldn’t panic, and thinking of a diversionary topic. “Did you see Santa already?”

RJ nodded, willingly distracted.

“He said he’d get me a Lego set!” he said, the slight lisp in his voice absolutely adorable. “A Lego set!” you repeated, folding the plate slightly so that you could pour the excess sprinkles into a dixie cup. “One of the Star Wars ones??”

“Yep!” RJ told you excitedly, his eyes widening, the sprinkles dilemma forgotten. “With an X-wing, so I can have a plane, like Daddy!”

You finished pouring off the sprinkles, and turned the still-overly-sprinkled-but-now-recognizable-as-a-cookie plate back to RJ. He grinned up at you through a missing tooth and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Payback might be nearly as bossy as Mav when you were up in the air, but he did have damn cute children.

You were halfway through helping RJ with a sleigh-shaped cookie when the Christmas music they’d been cranking turned off with reverb, and someone cheerily announced over the loudspeaker that it was time for the festivities to draw to a close. Overhead lights turned on, dispelling the ambiance created by thousands of christmas lights, but you were halfway through the cookie, so you two kept working on it.

What were they going to do?

At some point, Reuben came over with a couple wrapped packages tucked under his arm, giving you a grateful look for keeping an eye on his son.

The only warning you had was RJ’s reverent gasp and the widening of his eyes before you felt familiar hands on your waist and an unfamiliar beard scratching your neck.

“Santa,” RJ breathed, and you tried to delicately step out of Javy’s grasp as he realized he couldn’t exactly greet his real-life girlfriend while there were still kids who believed in the magic of Santa within eyesight.

Javy cleared his throat and you pressed your lips together to hide a smile as you watched your boyfriend stand up straighter under the boy’s worshipful gaze.

“RJ,” Javy said, his voice pitched lower than normal, to disguise it, and you noticed he was avoiding Reuben’s gaze pretty determinedly. “Doing some serious cookie decorating, I see?”

RJ nodded animatedly, holding up his plate to show “Santa” and nearly tipping both cookies off it in the process. Reuben dove for it, and you tried not to laugh, leaning lightly against Javy. You noticed absently that he must’ve taken the suit padding out, because you could feel his stomach through the red velvet.

Unfortunately, when RJ looked up from his plate, he noticed your lean, as well as Javy’s hand on your hip. He frowned, his small forehead wrinkling, and he tipped his head up at Javy.

“That’s Coyote’s girlfriend,” he told Javy archly.

“Uh,” Javy stalled, and you again found yourself fighting the urge to laugh, “yes. And…that’s why I want to steal her away for a moment. Coyote’s been a really good boy this year, and I want to talk about what kind of present he would want.”

RJ’s eyes narrowed, and he was about to say something else, before Reuben gave an exasperated sigh.

“For God’s sake,” he muttered, reaching for RJ’s cookie plate, effectively poaching the boy’s attention.

“Let’s show these cookies to your Ma, yeah, Junior?” he asked, before turning back to you and Javy. “And you two– behave.”

He spun on his heel, and RJ waved enthusiastically to you before following his father happily, and you turned to Javy, smiles breaking over both of your faces.

“Not your most graceful, lieutenant,” you teased him, but Javy was already looking around the recreation center.

With the overhead lights on, and the Christmas music off, it was rapidly emptying. Teams had already been tasked to come in tomorrow to clean it out, so for now everyone was clearing out, trying to get their kids home before the sugar crash set in, and Javy’s gloved hand found one of yours.

“Come on,” he said quietly, in his normal voice, and you followed him instinctively when he tugged lightly on your grasp.

You were surprised when he led you back over to Santa’s Workshop, and you ducked into the entryway.

It wasn’t a large space, something constructed of red and green painted plywood pieces, barely big enough to accommodate Santa’s throne. The throne itself was a replica of the Iron Throne that Fanboy had paid a preposterous amount for, and had been convinced to donate to the greater good. He had then had to be led away from in agony, as Army Wives sanded down the pointy edges, and repainted the swords as candy canes.

“Nice digs, Santa,” you said wryly, your sentence ending on a squeak as Javy pulled you into his arms.

Kissing him with the fake beard was funny, but his mouth was distracting enough that you soon forgot.

You melted into him as you always did, your hands pressed against his broad chest. Javy’s strong arms banded around you as he kissed you hungrily, like he’d been waiting, like he’d been missing you. He tasted like peppermint, like the candy canes the “elves” (Natasha and Jake) had forced on him any time he started looking bored.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, blinking up at him slowly.

Javy smiled at you softly, his own chest rising and falling underneath your hands. He was so unbelievably handsome, always, but you loved his sweet smile.

Especially how it looked from this close.

“Hi,” you whispered, and Javy groaned, leaning down to kiss you again.

His tongue swept into your mouth, and your knees almost buckled, causing you to cling to his shoulders. He was so strong, so big, and you knew he loved holding you, nearly as much as you treasured being held.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt your skin heat. You were just wearing a festive sweater under a pinafore-style skirt, aiming for comfort and festivity over something that accentuated your figure.

“It’s just a–” you tried, but Javy made a disapproving sound and kissed you firmly, interrupting your rationalization.

“Beautiful,” he insisted, after a moment, and you nodded dazedly.

Javy hummed, approving, and he shifted to pull off his gloves. A moment later, you felt his index finger under your chin. He tilted your head up towards him, and his kiss turned gentle, indulgent.

“I could feel you watching me, you know,” Javy murmured, between kisses.

You shivered when his thumb brushed over your jaw.

“Hard not to,” you managed to say.

Javy laughed, a low, warm sound, that you felt like a caress.

“What is it, honey,” he teased, brushing light kisses up your cheek, and ducking his head to reach behind your ear, “the red velvet doing it for you?”

You let out a breathy gasp when you felt his teeth ghost over your earlobe.

“‘Course not,” you mumbled, but it didn’t sound convincing.

It actually wasn’t the red velvet.

It wasn’t even how sweet he had been with the kids, which was pretty darn sweet.

“What was it?” Javy asked, as he kissed down your neck.

You shivered as his tongue and teeth teased you. When he reached the collar of your sweater, he nosed it aside, and sucked lightly at the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“The glasses,” you blurted.

You felt him hesitate, and he pulled back, looking at you amusedly.

“The glasses?” he echoed, and you tried not to squirm.

“Well, and the beard,” you admitted. “Not the actual aesthetics, just, like, the idea of them…the idea of older you. Silver fox Javy, you know, graying and—”

With a whoosh, the overhead lighting in the recreation center shut off.

You turned to look out the window, surprised to find that no one else was left in the recreation center. They had cleared out quickly and the large room was suddenly dark, except for the lights strung around the “roof” of Santa’s Workshop.

When you looked back at Javy, his teeth gleamed as he smiled.

His hand trailed down his arm till it tangled with yours, and he pulled you deeper into the workshop.

“Javy, we should go–” you started to protest, but you broke off when he sat on the throne.

The twinkling lights cast a golden glow into the otherwise dark room, and even in the shadows, Javy looked so damn sexy. He shifted in the seat, his thighs spreading, and planted his boots on the ground. He still held your hand, and you really did feel like you were standing in front of a throne, a queen to his king.

“It’s just us, honey,” he said, his voice deep, and you were having a hard time coming up with a response. Not when he looked this good, not when he was looking at you like that, not when you could already see the outline of his hardening dick against the inside of his velvet suit.

God, what a thought–velvet and Javy.

Your mouth practically watered, and when Javy tugged lightly on your hand, you let him pull you. You stood between his spread legs, the throne tall enough that you barely had to bend down to kiss him. This kiss was impossibly slow, leisurely.

Javy’s hands trailed down your body, settling under your ass as he pulled you closer to him. You whimpered as his touch pulled you flush against him, his body hard against you, and his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass. Your own hands ran over his chest, around the back of his neck, anchoring you to him.

His big hands kneaded your ass, and you whimpered against his mouth when he guided you slightly sideways, against where his dick rested on his thigh.

You felt your kisses turn lazy as he overwhelmed you.

His big hands, his strong thighs, his hot cock, his broad chest…you felt your knees weaken as the kiss deepened.

Javy knew, and he pulled back, giving you space. His hand found yours again, and he led you from between his legs, before reaching under your skirt.

His touch was slow, certain, as his fingers trailed up your thighs to your waistband, where he found the edge of your tights, and slid them down your legs. He went slowly, and you were grateful for it; your head was spinning and you didn’t feel like you could catch your breath. You watched as he pulled the tights down your thighs, prompting you to step out of your shoes first.

“Here, honey,” he prompted, guiding you to balance on the thick toes of his boots, so you wouldn’t have to stand on the floor, before he peeled your tights off.

That thoughtfulness, combined with the determined carefulness with which he undressed you, sent another wave of arousal for you, and you followed his instruction without thinking.

His hands were back on your legs then, reaching under your skirt again, up and up, and you shivered when his hands ghosted over the front of your underwear.

“Were you telling the truth?” he murmured, his voice low, and you pressed your lips together to trap a whine inside your throat. “Am I gonna find you worked up under here?”

You weren’t sure until his fingers pressed between your thighs.

And then you moaned, you couldn’t help it. Javy’s fingers pressed into your center over your panties, his touch collecting your arousal and you felt the drag of wetness between his finger, the thin fabric, and your skin.

Javy hummed his approval, and his pleasure had you bowing into him.

“Javy,” you whispered, not sure what you were asking for, but certain he would know.

“C’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling you into his lap, his hands not leaving your panties, but still keeping you covered by your skirt. He guided you over his thighs, your legs spreading to rest in his lap, and you immediately were obsessed with the feeling of velvet stretched over his strong thighs.

You looked up at his expression, and you felt your heart flutter.

Christ, he was so beautiful.

His expression was one of intense focus, but the panes of his face were so gorgeous, all the more for the fondness between the both of you.

You pressed yourself up to kiss him, knowing you’d stumble over finding the words to tell him. Javy’s lips were so soft, his mouth so gentle, and the hand that wasn’t under your skirt cupped the back of your neck. The tenderness in his touch coupled with the strength in his hands was a heady combination, and you melted into his arms again.

After a couple long, sweet kisses, you felt his hands move against you.

You broke away from his kiss, breath catching as Javy dragged a thick finger over your now soaking panties.

“You’re so warm here,” Javy murmured, his voice almost reverent, and your hands splayed over the red coat, grasping whatever you could. The pressure of his hand and the deep timbre of his voice were enough to drive you mad, and he knew it.

“You feel so good, honey, so inviting…” Javy continued, and he pushed your panties aside.

You whimpered at the first brush of his fingers against your core, slickened by your arousal, and warm against your skin. Your fingers scrambled to undo the red coat, fumbling with the buttons until you had the jacket undone, and you could feel the familiar cotton of his white undershirt.

It wasn’t enough, you needed his skin.

“Off,” you mumbled, and Javy chuckled as you pulled weekly at the bottom of his undershirt. It took some maneuvering, but you got the jacket off, then the undershirt, and then decided the beard and hat – while they had their charm – needed to go as well.

And then you were breathless for a whole other reason.

“You look like a damn fireman calendar,” you told him, your voice somewhere between amused and chagrined at the perfection that was a shirtless Javy Machado in red velvet pants and thick black boots, reclining in a garish throne. You decided that indulging the fantasy couldn’t hurt, and you guided the suit jacket up over his shoulders again. You tipped your head to the side, regarding your amused boyfriend.

“Some mom in New Jersey would lose her shit,” you told him honestly, and it probably should’ve made you jealous, but it made you just so damn thankful he was all yours.

You watched Javy’s abs contract as he laughed, pulling you back to him, and you smiled as he kissed you. You loved that it was like this with him – playful and fun, as well as just so fucking hot.

It only took a moment for the laughter to fade from your kiss, and Javy’s hand was back inside your panties a moment later.

He pulled a finger through your folds and your head fell back at his tease. He gathered your arousal with his finger, pulling his hand back up to the top of your slit. He found your clit easily, a familiar path, and when he pressed firmly, your legs jolted.

“You’re Coyote’s girl, aren’t you?” he said thickly, and you wondered if he was thinking back to what RJ had said, or if he just liked the thought of you being his. Either way, you nodded weakly, overwhelmed by the pattern he traced over your clit.

Javy turned his head so he could kiss your neck again, his lips pressing into you, tongue teasing you in a motion that mirrored his fingers at your core. You leaned into him, loving his strength and his focus on you. His hand, his mouth, his broad chest, all had your head swimming, and building up a heat within you.

Your hips were moving, rocking into him, and you felt empty, needy.

“Answer the question, honey,” he murmured into your neck, and he pulled back his hand to readjust.

“Yes, Javy,” you breathed, forming the words feeling like a gargantuan effort, “yours.”

“Damn right,” he said, and then a finger was pushing through your folds as his thumb traced over your clit.

You moaned as he pushed into you, a steady intrusion and just what you wanted. You rocked your hips into his touch, seeking more, deeper, and Javy chuckled.

“Easy, baby,” he said softly, and you shook your head.

“Need you, Javy,” you protested. His finger was thick, brushing into you, but you knew it wasn’t enough, knew it wasn’t what you needed. He grunted, shifting again, and then another finger was between your legs. Javy’s hand on your hip angled your hips downward, and your mouth fell open when he lifted his palm so you could grind your clit against it.

His fingers inside you were pressing deep, stretching you, and you welcomed the width of them as you ground into his palm.

“Baby, fuck,” you panted, and you felt his hips jerk up into you.

Which had the opposite effect than what he had intended.

Because his fingers were good, and his hand was good, and everything felt so fucking good– but you knew what was between his legs. And his hand wasn’t enough.

“You need to be fucked, don’t you, honey,” Javy asked hotly, his voice low in your ear. You nodded desperately, your hips working against his fingers eagerly. He’d fill you so good, fuck you so full, and you needed it, needed him.

You were overheating in your sweater, nearly wild with wanting him so bad, but you were taking everything he’d give you, always would.

“Please, baby,” you whispered, and it sounded like a whine. You felt his hips press up again, an unintentional response, and your hips worked faster.

“‘s too fast, sweetheart,” Javy said, but it sounded like maybe he was trying to convince himself too. “You’re not ready…”

You moaned, your head dropping to his shoulder.

You knew he was right, knew you had to be worked up to taking his cock, but you wanted to be full of him, wanted to feel like his, wanted him to push everything else out of your mind with his dick.

“Please,” you whimpered, unafraid to beg, and you felt Javy’s breath catch.

“Cum for me first, honey, come on,” he said determinedly, and you would’ve scowled at him for his stubbornness, but he was working your body so fucking well.

His fingers were pressing deeper inside of you, searching for the spot that would tip you over the edge. He knew when he found it because your whole body seized, and he fucking cooed, pleased and proud. His fingers worked faster inside of you, his palm grinding back into your clit, and you felt your body hurtling towards completion in spite of yourself.

You whimpered his name, and Javy soothed you, his other hand falling to your ass again. He pressed you into him, shushing you as you trembled, and it was too much, too fast.

Your orgasm broke through you, heat crashing over you as your boyfriend rocked you in his lap. You were shaking, you were pretty sure you were babbling, as Javy worked you through your orgasm, his strong fingers pulling steadily inside of you.

You shuddered as you came down, the world fading from technicolor to the dark light of the rec center, and the ringing in your ears quieted enough to hear Javy murmuring praise into your ear.

“So beautiful, honey, always so beautiful when you come. Fuck, you did so good, coming on my hand like that, such a good girl for me, always so good…”

You were pressed into his chest, and you snuggled closer to his warmth, temporarily sated. You felt Javy shift his hand, pull your panties back down before sliding his hand out from under your skirt. A moment later, you felt his chest vibrate, and when you pulled back to look, his eyes were closed, head tilted back, his fingers between his lips.

“So fucking sweet,” he said, almost to himself, licking your orgasm off his fingers. You felt your core clench at the sight of it, at the everything of him, and you tilted your head up to him, needing his kiss.

Javy acquiesced, and you both moaned when his tongue swept into your mouth, sharing the taste of your release. It was so hot, everything he did was so hot, and impossibly, you needed him again.

You reached down between you, your fingers skating over velvet until you found his cock. He was fully erect now, trapped against his thigh, and when your fingers coasted over him, Javy’s breath caught.

You hummed when his hips pressed up into your touch.

Even without your body moving to encourage him, his thighs pushed his dick towards your hand, and you loved the feeling of him. Even through the soft material, he was so hard, so thick, and you were desperate for him.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Javy panted, and you loved it when he sounded like that, like he was barely clinging to sanity.

“Don’t want to wait,” you trailed your hand up to his tip. You couldn’t feel the details of him through the suit, but you knew his cock, you knew where he was sensitive, and Javy groaned as you traced over him. He mumbled something into your sweater, but you couldn’t hear it.

“Please, Javy,” you whispered, and he groaned again.

His hands were on your waist, and they tightened when he pulled back. You were surprised by the truly forlorn look on his face when he looked up at you, and your hand paused, suddenly concerned.

“I don’t have a condom,” Javy said dejectedly. “I’m sorry, honey, it felt pervy to put it in a pocket around all the kids and I–”

“We don’t need one.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but as soon as the words were out, you knew you meant them. You’d been exclusive for a couple months now, and you were tested regularly, and you trusted him. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted it– the more you needed it, the more you knew it was exactly what you needed.

Javy was so still underneath you.

He was looking at you so closely, hope and caution warring in his expression.

“Are you absolutely certain, honey?” he asked, and the way he was double checking was all the confirmation you needed.

You leaned down to rest your forehead against his, loving the way his eyes followed you, even this close. You lowered your head to his, pulling back slightly when he reached up to kiss you.

“100%,” you said against his lips, and Javy moaned, something deep in his chest, the hottest sound you’d heard.

He surged up to kiss you, and you felt dizzy from the lingering taste of you on his tongue. When he pulled back, you were both breathless, just shy of giddy.

“You want me to fuck you bare, sweetheart?” he asked, and his soft question made you shiver.

“Please,” you managed, and Javy huffed something that might’ve been a laugh.

“You’re gonna let me into that pussy raw?” he breathed, and you squirmed in his lap. You wanted him so badly, needed to feel him, just him. “Gonna let me fill you up, feel this cock press all the way into you?”

“Javy,” you moaned his name, fully wanton, unable to say anything else.

Your hips were already rocking into him, craving the stretch of him.

He seemed to understand, guiding you back to stand on his boots, while he shifted, sliding the suit pants down his thighs, along with his underwear. The red velvet pooled over his boots, brushing the tops of your feet, but you barely noticed. Instead, your eyes were trained between his thighs, where his dick was resting against his stomach.

He had such a pretty cock.

Long and heavy, curved slightly to the side, a plump head that felt absolutely unreal when it breached you. You were practically salivating for it, and you pressed your thighs together as you balanced on his boots.

“Now you,” he prompted, and he helped you out of your sweater and skirt. A moment later, you felt Javy pull your panties off, now with no worry for the suit.

He dropped the thin fabric to the ground and you stepped out of it, his fingers curled up to cup you. God, you loved how he touched you, so certain and steady, like him. You clutched his shoulder for balance, and Javy’s hand tightened over your pussy, pulling him to you by your pussy.

You might as well have been on a leash.

You could feel your legs trembling, you wanted him so bad. He guided you back onto his lap, your legs spread over his thighs again, but it was different now, because you could feel him. When you settled, your core brushed against his hot cock, and you both hissed out a breath. Desperation seemed to build between you, and Javy finally, finally let go of you, reaching down to hold his cock steady as you lowered yourself towards him.

“Give me that pussy, baby,” he commanded, his voice low, and you wanted nothing more.

When you felt the first press of his fat cockhead between your legs you felt like weeping. It was the smallest brush, but he was so thick, so broad, a promise. You held your breath as you lowered yourself down, a high-pitched moan working out of you when the head of him was fully inside you.

“Ah, honey,” Javy breathed.

It sounded like he was praying, and you understood, because it was just the tip of him, but already you were dizzy with how full you felt.

You looked between the two of you, at the vision of his fat cock pressing into you and you moaned again. You looked so good together; it was amazing that he fit, that you could take him. You could feel his eyes on you, knew he was watching your face as you were watching where you were joined.

“It’s so good, Javy,” you whispered, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. Your nails were probably leaving marks, not that either of you cared.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Javy said, his voice hoarse, “it’s so fucking good. How does my dick feel inside you, just me, so close to you?”

Your eyes closed and your jaw fell slack as pushed yourself farther onto him. The stretch neared on painful but nowhere near painful enough to make you stop. You felt him, like he said, you felt so close to him. It felt perfect, like you were made for this stretch.

“Halfway, baby,” Javy encouraged, and you practically choked at his words.

Fuck, you thought you were farther along than that; it felt like you’d gotten farther along than that.

But when you opened your eyes, there were still inches left of his cock, thick, searing length that you needed to fit inside of you. Javy’s hands rubbed encouraging circles on your back, and you realized your thighs were shaking. It felt like you were boiling, melting, but you knew you couldn’t stop, knew you needed to take all of him.

Still, you couldn’t stop your whimper, “It’s too big, baby.”

Javy’s hips jerked up at your words, and his head fell back against the throne as he forced himself down, to be still. You both groaned at the ground that gave you, and Javy’s chest rose and fell rapidly.

“You can do it, honey, you’re doing so good for me, so damn good,” he gritted, and you loved him so much.

Loved that he was fighting for control but he still found breath to encourage you, soothe you, care for you. Your face felt wet, from sweat or tears, you couldn’t tell, but you made it the final few inches.

When your shaking thighs met Javy’s legs, you both let out a trembling breath, and Javy wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Just stay here for a moment, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you lay your head on his shoulder, resting.

You were so full.

So sated, so absolutely content, like all you ever wanted to be was in this moment. You wanted to wrap this feeling up, remember it forever, this closeness. This perfection.

Javy’s hands were still moving slowly up your back, his fingers pressing gently over you. You recognized he was breathing deeply, whether to help you monitor yours or because he needed to be controlled, you weren’t sure.

You felt out of your body.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the stretch to ease and your body to adjust. As you accepted him, as you welcomed him, your head cleared slightly, and you became aware of the gnawing need at your core.

You needed him to move.

You shifted in his lap, just slightly, and Javy’s breath punched out of him, as you clenched around him.

“Jesus, honey, warn a man,” he choked, and you smiled.

“Can’t help it,” you said, honestly, “just feels too good.”

“You’re telling me,” he murmured, turning towards you.

He kissed you slowly, languidly, his tongue pressing between your lips as he gently pushed his hips upward. You felt your limbs go lax; he wasn’t even pumping but he was so damn deep inside you. It felt like a caress, something gentle and sacred, and you rested on him.

He pressed up again, and he broke the kiss, his warm breath coasting over your lips.

“Feels fucking unreal, honey,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re so tight, so wet. God, I can feel every inch of you like this, feels like heaven.”

You hummed your agreement, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. Your lips brushed over his jawline, your tongue tasting his sweat, kissing him lightly as he rocked slowly into you again. Time felt like molasses, seeping so slowly by, and everything was distilled to the press of his hips into yours, of his cock straining inside of you.

You whispered his name, and his hands slipped from your back to your waist.

“Need something, honey?” Javy asked, and you whined in response.

He was slow and steady, unhurried, stoking that heat inside of you. It was perfect, it was killing you, you needed more.

“Do you think,” Javy’s voice was still breathless, but took on a teasing lilt, “you were naughty or nice this year?”

You swatted at him weakly, his chest already huffing as he laughed.

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled, turning to a moan at another gentle rock.

“You know I’d know if you’d been bad or good,” he said, amusing himself even as you squirmed on his cock. “I’ve got a list.”

“I swear, Javy–”

“Do you think you’ve been a good girl for Santa?”

God, he was such a dork, but he was also so hung, and you couldn’t handle both at once. But then Javy’s hands wrapped under your ass again. Before you could sigh in relief, he lifted you up, strong arms fully pulling you off his dick, and then thrusted up into you.

You screamed.

You couldn’t help it, you felt it so much, so deep, so fucking full of him, and Javy’s proud laugh turned to a groan as you clenched around his cock. He’d scrambled your brain with his dick, that was the only explanation, because you were moaning and you felt every limb shaking, and you needed him to do it again.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted someone to hear us,” he chastised you gently, and you whimpered at his words.

You both knew no one was left in the rec center, probably not even the parking lot, but fuck if the idea of someone walking in on you fucking your boyfriend on this throne of his didn’t turn you on even more.

Javy sighed, something awed. “Is that it, honey? You want someone to see you? Want someone to walk in on you milking this bare cock? Want someone to watch me shove it so deep into your pussy, see how badly you need it?”

He lifted you again before you could respond, his strong arms pulling you up and then bringing you back down into his lap, his cock thrusting deep into you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only want more, need more. You felt something drip out of your mouth, realized belatedly you were literally drooling.

Javy swore when he felt it, too, and his hips moved faster. He held you steady as he pushed up into you, slamming his hips up to meet yours.

It was fast, it was rough, it was so, so deep, and you could only think that you needed him to keep going.

Javy was grunting with each thrust of his hips, a gorgeous sound that had your mind racing. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass as he drove into you, so deep, and you scrambled for purchase, your hands clinging to the back of the throne, anything for leverage as he pumped into you.

“I wouldn’t care,” Javy said, almost growled, and you felt your core clench tighter on him at that tone in his voice. “Fucking Simpson could break in now, honey, and I wouldn’t care, I couldn’t stop. You think anything could stop me now that I’ve felt this bare cunt around my cock? Nah, it’s too good, it’s so damn good. Fuck, honey, you feel—”

He broke off, and you felt his teeth bite into your shoulder, grounding himself as he drove into you. Vaguely you knew you were close, knew it in an abstract scientific way, because you could barely string two thoughts together, much less words.

You could only cling to him, to your sweet, strong, Javy.

“Riding me so good, baby,” Javy mumbled into your shoulder. “Being so good for me, honey, you’re always so good for me. My best girl, my beautiful, best girl. Sweetheart, I’m close, are you close?”

You nodded, or maybe you wailed, but you knew he could hear you, because his thrusts got more frantic. His thrusts were getting shorter, and you realized it was because he couldn’t reach as deep as he wanted, as fast as he wanted. Javy made a noise of frustration and his thighs flexed, then he was lifting you.

Still impaled on his cock, he shifted you, turned you, and then your back was pressed against the cool surface of the throne. Javy was between your legs, then, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him back into you.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered, and Javy groaned in response.

“Anything, fuck, you know that, sweetheart, anything,” he whispered, and then he grabbed the throne.

All you could do was take it.

Lie in the space between his arms, between his legs, clinging to him as Javy gripped the throne for leverage and thrust into you. You were held firm as he thrust into you, the new angle causing his dick to brush against a spot inside you that had your toes curling.

“Right there, Javy,” you cried, and you felt him press deeper, determined.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he panted, as his hips slammed into you. “God, you feel so good, I’ve got you… I know you feel good too, come for me, please..feels like fucking home in you, please honey, I need to feel you come–”

The throne was shaking with each of his thrusts and he pulled you even closer to him. Your body shook with each rutt of his hips, but as you molded to him, your clit brushed against the hard wall of muscle that was Javy. His cock hit that spot deep inside of you, your clit rubbed against his skin, and it was overwhelming, it was everything, it was enough.

“Come with me,” you gasped, begged, feeling a blinding heat at the tips of your toes. Javy groaned, and you knew he wanted to protest, but as your body seized, you felt him tense with you.

You cried out as you came, exhausted and overwriting and flying, but you felt it, felt him. Javy surged up to kiss you, his mouth locking on yours. You were too tired to kiss, too poised to respond, but so was he. And as you tipped over the edge, as you cried against his lips, Javy’s strong hips stilled, and you felt his chest heave as he pumped into you. Then you were warm, so warm, feeling his cum spill inside of you, feeling the world burn around you. It was everything, you and him, locked together and spiraling, shaking.

You were so full.

Javy collapsed against you, somehow finding the strength to push himself onto the throne beside you. You fidgeted, squirming until you were once again in his lap, panting and shaking, as Javy held you tight while your orgasms rolled over you.

You were grateful for the Christmas lights.

They were a gentle light, soft when you opened your eyes, illuminating Javy’s profile like a poem. Sweat slicked between both of your bodies, and you didn’t want to think about the state the suit was in. You could feel Javy’s heartbeat through his chest, a pounding rhythm, strong and steady as he was.

You should get up.

But you snuggled deeper into his chest, relieved by the deep breath you felt him draw. You both basked in the muted light, the warmth of each other's arms, and you decided the feeling was also the answer to Javy’s question– you’d been nice.

.............

Tagging some mutuals, some folks who asked for it, and general lovers of Javy: @daggerspare-standingby @blowmymbackout @teacupsandtopgun @mandylove1000 @callsign-fangirl @cheekymcgrath @goldenseresinretriever @mxgyver @laracrofted @coyotesamachado @wildbornsiren @bradshawsbitch @sebsxphia @roosterforme

#javy machado #javy machado fic #javy machado smut #javy coyote machado #javy coyote machado smut #coyote x reader #javy machado x reader #i've got to stop posting at 11pm and expecting people to see it #sorry in advance for all the reblogs i will be giving this #misskielwrites

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