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macfrog · 5 months

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sweet child o' mine | pt. ii

hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.

warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 9.2k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”

You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.

How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?

Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?

The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.

Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”

Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.

Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”

“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.

Maybe. You don’t fucking know.

“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”

“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.

And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.

If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.

“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.

“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.

“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”

Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.

“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.

The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.

You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.

A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.

“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.

“You havin’ one?”

“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”

Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”

You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”

His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”

His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”

Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.

Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.

Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”

“Good?”

“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”

“Why would things be weird?”

His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.

“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”

“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.

“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”

Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.

“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.

Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.

The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.

Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.

“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.

Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.

“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”

Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.

You gulp. “…If I was?”

His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?

Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.

Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.

He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.

Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.

Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.

You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.

And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.

He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.

Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.

“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”

You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.

“What?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”

He nods. “How long have you known?”

“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”

He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.

His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.

And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?

“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”

But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.

“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”

You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.

“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.

Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”

He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”

“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”

Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.

“V…What?”

He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.

“Vanessa?”

A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.

“Who the hell is Vanessa?”

Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.

Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.

“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”

“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”

Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.

“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.

Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.

“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”

This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –

“Seen each other?”

“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”

“Oh.”

Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.

Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.

Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.

But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.

Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.

Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”

“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot – it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”

You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.

“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.

“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”

His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”

Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”

“Joel –”

What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”

“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”

“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”

“And what about Vanessa?”

“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”

“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”

“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”

“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.

“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”

“To get the timber.”

“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”

Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.

The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.

You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.

He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.

I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.

And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.

The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.

Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?

You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.

And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.

Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.

Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.

You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.

“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?

“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.

“Good job, kid. Good job.”

Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.

He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.

She –? Is – is that a good idea?

I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.

Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?

Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.

You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.

Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?

Alright.

We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.

Okay.

And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?

Joel. I said okay.

He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.

You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.

“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”

“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”

You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”

The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”

“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”

“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.

“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.

He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”

Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.

“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y’okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.

Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.

Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”

“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.

“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.

But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”

She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.

You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.

“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.

Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”

“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”

You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”

“Neither should you.”

“Is this…totally weird for you?”

Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.

“Sorry.”

He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”

Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”

He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.

“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.

“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.

Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”

“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”

She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”

She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.

“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”

“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”

She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”

Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”

“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”

Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.

You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.

Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.

And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.

Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.

You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.

Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.

And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.

“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”

And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”

It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?

Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.

You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.

Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.

“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”

Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?

Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”

You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”

He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.

He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”

“Cut the language?”

“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”

“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”

“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”

You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”

He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.

“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.

You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”

“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.

She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”

You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.

“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.

Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”

“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.

“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.

Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.

The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.

“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”

“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.

Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”

She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”

“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”

You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.

Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”

You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.

She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.

A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.

“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”

You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.

“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”

You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.

“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”

“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.

“Yep. Perfect, too.”

She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.

And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –

And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.

You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.

Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.

The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.

And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.

Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.

He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.

“Still scared?” he whispers.

“Terrified,” you tell him.

“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.

You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.

He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.

“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.

“Huh?”

“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”

“The hell would I have to say duck for?”

Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”

“Duck?”

He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.

The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.

Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.

He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”

Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.

“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”

You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.

He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.

You don’t like the crust?

Nope.

What fuckin’ age are you?

If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.

At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –

Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.

You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.

A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.

You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.

You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.

The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.

Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –

“Baby.”

His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.

You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.

Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.

“Icantbreathe,” you pant.

Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”

You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.

“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

In – and out. In – and out again.

The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.

“Can you sit down for me?”

“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.

“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”

You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”

He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”

He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.

“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.

“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”

You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”

“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”

You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”

You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.

“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.

“Three. Take a sip.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sip.”

You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.

He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”

Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”

But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”

“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”

“You sound like my fucking doctor.”

Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”

You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.

“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.

Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”

“Ha. Joel Jr.”

“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”

“Mhm?”

“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”

You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”

“First grade, huh? Best one.”

“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.

“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.

“What about your dad? What was he like?”

You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”

Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.

“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.

“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”

Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.

“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.

You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”

It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.

Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.

“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”

#*hits post*#*throws laptop from bridge*#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller #babydaddy!joel #tw pregnancy

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owliellder · 8 months

Text

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Slightly shorter chapter since I got stuck watching the last two episodes of Fionna and Cake, but I hope y'all like where I'm steering this. Pick up what I'm putting down, eh??

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 2:

“This is insane. You’re not even trying.”

Leon’s cruel comments had been endless since you showed up today. He was already irritated that you even showed to begin with, now he’s just taking all his frustrations out on you. The guy isn’t even passive aggressive, he’s just aggressive. “I showed you the formula like.. five times already.”

“I don’t need you to patronize me, please.” You asked with a meek voice, bringing your hands up to cover your face for a couple seconds before placing them down on either side of the new math assignment sitting in front of you. You understood his impatience though, you were even starting to grow impatient with yourself, having been stuck on the third question for over thirty minutes now. Leon stressed the fact that you got one hour only with him and you’d basically wasted half that time bouncing from the formula he’d written down to the question itself.

The formula was helpful, but this question included more numbers than you knew what to do with. The main issue was knowing which numbers went where in the formula and you wanted to know why they went where they did, but Leon was only giving you the formula and nothing else. One vague explanation and then he was right back on his phone.

You had a glimmer of hope for the frat boy sitting in front of you. Had, being the keyword here. One study session in and you were already starting to accept defeat. “Can you explain it to me again?” You tapped your pencil on the table nervously, keeping your eyes glued to your paper to avoid the obvious glare you’d receive from him.

The sound of his phone slamming down on the table accompanied with a groan made you grip onto your pencil tighter, now holding it still as he pulled the paper away from you. “Do I have to hold your hand, too? What’s so hard to understand about this?” He reached over, yanking your pencil from your hand so he could scribble out the first few steps to the problem. Afterwards, he tossed both the paper and pencil back over to you, tapping his finger down on the work he wrote down before circling it once. “Need anything else? A warm bottle of milk? Want me to read you a bedtime story?”

He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms with a sigh after picking his phone back up. “You’ve got fifteen more minutes.” The fuck’s his problem?

Letting out a small sigh of your own, you silently picked up the pencil and looked down at what he’d written. Surprisingly, it did help you make more sense of the rest of the assignment sheet, figuring out the placement of the numbers by using where Leon had put them. Soon, the assignment sheet was finished and you had him look it over.

“Is it-.. Is it good?” You watched Leon carefully, studying his face for any sort of emotion other than annoyance. You unfortunately didn’t find it, but his muttered “good” made you smile, taking your own turn studying your work once he handed it back. Not tossed or thrown, handed back.

He took in a sharp breath through his nose before standing up, focus still trained on his phone. There was only a few minutes left in the hour, so you guess he took your understanding of the material as his leave. “Can we.. uh.. study again on Monday?” His hand paused on the door handle at your question, looking back at you from over his shoulder with his lips pulled tight as he gave you a glare. “You just love taking up my time, don’t you?”

“Wait, is that-” The slam of the door cut you off, leaving you to watch him saunter off through the large window in the door. Your shoulders slumped and you turned back to give your math assignment one last look before stuffing it into your backpack. At least with this new understanding, you’d be able to hopefully do the next few assignments. Mr. Lebovic was kind enough to let you redo your past fails, meaning all you’re doing is slowly climbing your way back up to a better grade with make-up work.

You held out for Leon, constantly giving him the benefit of the doubt with each study session following the first. You did your absolute best to remain passive with him, but each session was filled with crude, nasty, hate-filled comments directed at you, so it was only a matter of time until you started throwing your own comments back at him. By the beginning of November, studying had been put on the back burner whenever you two met up, assignments left abandoned in favor of fleshing out full blown arguments. He always won since you’d never really had a loud voice to defend yourself and his favorite go-to was low blow insults, somehow always managing to sniff out your insecurities.

Leon’s pattern was always one step forward, ten steps back with you. He would help and then spend the rest of your hour together nitpicking your every attempt to learn. He hated you and it was driving you mad. It was impossible to learn anything like this.

You’d grown a sour mood leading up to your trek to the library for one of your regular study sessions, a scowl settling on your face. You decided hours ago that getting dressed wasn’t an option today, you just didn’t weren’t in the mood, so instead you threw on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants to mind the brisk chill that had rolled in at the end of October.

The walk to the main building was dull; most of the leaves on the trees around campus had long since browned and fallen off, the grass was dead and crunchy, and it almost felt like it would start snowing anytime now with how quickly the cold had come. The feel in the air made you tired, it made you miss home. The weather made you long for the warmth a home-cooked meal provided, but you had to wait, and that wait was only contributing to your already piss poor mood.

Making your way into the library and into the reserved study room, you didn’t even notice Leon’s smile until he asked you to pull out your most recent assignment. It immediately put you off because it wasn't like his normal cocky smile or smirk, no, this one was oddly genuine. Soft, even.

“Can I see it?” He asked, smile widening slightly as he gestured towards your backpack. Even his tone was softer than usual. “Uh…” You weren’t quite sure how to react, not really processing his words as you tried to figure out whether he’s setting a trap or not.

“Your assignment. Can I see it?” Leon clarified, his arms resting crossed on the table as he glanced down to your bag and then back up at you. That was also weirding you out; the eye contact. Normally he only ever met your gaze when he was intimidating you with a deep glare and it wasn’t ever this long. He was making a point to look at you now.

Without saying a word, you unzipped your bag and pulled out a couple papers, only looking away from him twice to make sure you were getting the right ones. You made sure to hold eye contact with him, eyebrows furrowed as you searched for any insincerity.

You’d grown rigid with his kind behavior, even more so when he thanked you and took the papers from you. Questioning him was your top priority right now, though your mouth refused to work with your brain, causing you to stutter out a simple “..what?” Leon only hummed, tilting his head a bit as he looked down at your work, following the tip of his pen as it trailed down the paper.

“What-..” You repeated, swallowing dryly before finally getting the full “What’re you doing?” out. He seemed genuinely confused at your question, looking up to give you a puzzled look. “Hm? Whaddya mean what am I doing? I’m looking over your work.” He looked back down at your paper, clearing his throat quietly.

“No, you’re being nice. Why are you being nice?” You were quick to shoot back to try and draw his attention back to you. “If this is a joke, I’m not gonna fall for it.”

Leon sighed and dropped the pen down onto the paper to rest his crossed arms on the table again. “Why are you asking so many questions? It’s not a big deal.”

Not a big deal?! “Not a big deal?! You’ve argued with me every other day for the past three weeks!” Your hands balled up into fists on your lap, completely baffled by the dismissiveness of his complete 180° in demeanor. “I-” You stopped yourself, taking a moment to breathe. This was.. actually a nice change of pace now that you think about it. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?

He gave you his normal annoyed look at your sudden pause, seemingly waiting on you to finish talking. “You..?” Shaking your head a bit, you let out a soft laugh and waved your hand. “Nevermind, uh.. yeah, nevermind…”

“Ooookay, well, you did good on this one so you can turn it in.” Leon held up the first paper before sliding it across the table to you, then picking up the second paper. “But this one needs a bit of work. I circled the questions that need to be redone, not gonna tell you what’s wrong with them, though.” You watched as he slid the other paper to you with your own smile now forming. Pulling out a pencil, you started to relax for the first time around this guy, bringing your attention down to the circled questions.

Your study session has never been more productive. He was being helpful; answering your questions, talking you through each step, giving you smiles and the occasional thumbs up. You’re not sure what changed or why, but you definitely weren’t complaining. When Leon wasn’t acting like someone shoved a stick up his ass, he was actually pretty handsome. You’d mentally recognized his good looks when you first met him, yet his demeanor as a whole masked those good looks entirely.

There was no way he could throw anymore surprises at you, but you stood corrected when he walked over to you at the end of your session, stopping you from walking out. “Listen, I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I don’t want to be mean to you, it’s just…” He paused to laugh to himself, looking down at the ground with an almost bashful expression. “I’m only tutoring because it’s a big part of my grade in my class, so..” Not a complete lie on his part.

“Oh. Oh, it's.. it’s fine.” You didn’t want him to revert back to his old style, so you chose to just dismiss it. His attitude did make sense, you wouldn’t want to tutor random people for a grade. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks. Uh.. oh, here-” Leon opened and held the study room door open for you, giving you a small wave as you walked out, which you returned. That was a nice mood booster, not being degraded and demeaned every time you see the one person who’s supposed to help you.

Your friends had their own opinions about the experience after you described it to them. You’d been relaying every bit of info relating to your study sessions from the past three weeks to them, a second and third opinion was good to have for such an odd trade.

“I don’t trust it. Plain and simple.” Sky placed their hands down on their thighs with an audible slap. They didn’t seem impressed by Leon’s sudden chivalry, and to your disappointment, neither did Ella when you looked over from Sky to her. She just looked back at you with a shrug. “Sorry. I’m gonna have to take Sky’s side on this. There’s just something off about that.”

You sighed in defeat, turning your head around to look out the window in the dorm room. It was nice that Sky and Ella shared a dorm, you can’t discuss stuff like this in your own dorm in case your roommate decided to randomly appear. “Yeah…”

Ella scooted closer to you on the bed and pulled you back so your head was resting in her lap. “I know you got your hopes up, but please be careful. I don’t wanna see you get hurt because some pretty boy decided it would be fun to manipulate you.” You groaned, covering your face with your arms. Nothing even happened and you’re already feeling embarrassed.

“It’s okay if you like him, he is kinda cute.” Ella giggled and moved one of your arms to poke your cheek. “But just remember that the guy’s got a bit of a reputation for being a major douche.”

Sky, sitting over on their bed, pointed at Ella in agreement. “Emphasis on major douche.” They smiled and leaned back, their head plopping onto their pillows. “It was just one instance of him being sweet, after all. Who’s to say he won’t revert back to being an asshole by Wednesday?”

“I know, I get it.” You swatted Ella’s hand away and sat back upright. Even if he was putting up a front, it was still nice to get some real help with your math without being insulted. Everyone deserves a second chance and he seemed honest enough when he told you why he’d been so rude, so why not try again with him? Start fresh, maybe you’ll get to make an unlikely friend out of this popular frat boy.

A bit of a far fetched idea, considering the vast differences between you and Leon, but anything like that is worth another try. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita

(a few of your blogs won't show up but i tried)

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vcill · 1 year

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✧🩷 Good Girl 🩷✧

200 follower special <3 I love y'all sm ♡

Diavolo →

Adjusting to RAD is never easy, with so many exams, having to deal with the demon brothers, baby knows how you feel and knows how stressed and pent you are.

Tell him all about how Mammon and Levi almost burnt down the science lab, and how he would've been able to put it out by how much he's making you squirt.

Angry that Satan got a higher score than you on a test? Take your anger out on him. Squeeze your thighs on his head, suffocate him and make sure he ain't breathing.

Uh oh! What's that tone you used towards the future king? That's not good at all. Don't worry, he'll fuck the sense back into you. A nice apology while fucking you still sounds perfect.

Him fucking and stuffing you so full that you forgot why you even had an attitude to begin with. Apologies being nothing but moan and whimpers while begging him to ruin you. ♡

Him telling you that you did such a good job today, such a good girl for him. Taking him all and not complaining. Draining him dry and making you soaked and full is the best thing a good girl could ever receive .

Barbatos →

He only ever wants the best for you, so failing a test or being late to class isn't gonna make him mad at you.

Good girls know how to study, keep track of their test, when to fall asleep at a good time and not miss school. So really, you've been really bad. But owning up to your mistakes makes it almost better.

Studying for a math test should be easy as you count how many times you've both came. No, it wasn't 5, it was 8. Looks like you guys have to start over. Nope, him eating you out and fucking you is two different things! You don't add those together.

Unless you wanna be there all night, you better start learning.

Falling asleep and missing class? Mm mm. Go ahead and work yourself on his cock while he sits there an does nothing, you need to build your stamina after all. Surprise fuck when you're asleep? Need to always be aware of your surroundings, no excuse for letting your guard down.

Soon enough, you'll learn. You remember how many orgasms you've had, know how to keep working his cock without getting tired, and to properly prep yourself when it's time to get fucked by his cock at night.

Like a good girl, you learn how to do what you're told and be the perfect little fucktoy for the perfect butler.

Solomon →

Being his sweet little apprentice, you'll gladly help in anything he might need. For example, he recently learned a new spell and needed a T̶e̶s̶t̶ s̶u̶b̶j̶e̶c̶t̶ volunteer. Of course, you willing took the part, not even asking what the spell is.

Soon enough, you learn. You feel hot, moist, and slightly dizzy. But most of all, you want dick. Sorcerer dick matter of fact. Looks like the spell works on anyone in the room, cause all Solomon wanted was that phat pussy.

Being railed on one of the desk in the room wasn't on your list today, but you're not complaining. Solomon using all his force and knocking the air out of you as he hits the spot you know and love. Watching your body jiggles from his thrust, drool drip for your cunt and mouth.

Oh this spell is really good. So good, maybe he should cast another, if it's okay with you of course. Your moaning is more then enough consent to proceed, as soon as he casted this one, you both felt so sensitive. His hand on your thighs making your pussy drip even more. Your nails scratching his back made him want to burst.

Ok ok, one more. Be a good girl and let him do his thing, alright? You can take some more. The aching in your legs seem to disappear as your mind goes blank, only thing you can think about is Solomon Solomon Solomon. All you want is him to fill you up and keep you feel. Keep milking him, make sure he can never fill back up again.

You both are so overstimulated but don't give a fuck, maybe this time you also cast a spell which makes both of you whine like crazy. Look at you learning to cast spells just like him, such a good girl you are.

Simeon →

Simeon thinks you're always so good to him. Doing everything as you should, eating your breakfast, brushing your teeth, eating a good meal. What more can he ask?

Good girl deserve the best of course, go ahead and relax as he sucks that tasty pussy of yours. Continue doing your home work while he works his fingers inside of you. Don't worry about the mess your making, he'll clean it right up as long as you keep squirting for him.

How you take care of him when he's stressed, taking his cock whole while drool drips from your mouth. The little tears in your eyes look so beautiful as he makes you choke on it. Such a good girl taking him all! Want him to fuck you now? I bet you do! ♡

He only wants to do what you want him to do. You want him to move? How hard? Where do you want him to hit it? There? That feels good? I'm sure it does.

But he can't spoil you too much. You only get what you earned. You really think you're so slick adding on to the things you did today. You answered a question correctly in class, so you deserve to be fucked one more time. Better hope he doesn't figure out you lied about a few things. Good girls don't lie, rightttt?

When you finish, he lays beside you, telling you how pretty his baby girl is. Asking you if you can do it again tomorrow and how you better promise that you will. His good girl always keeps her promises!

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birdy-bat-writes · 1 year

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Coffee for Mrs. Seresin?

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Content warnings: Pining, fluff, and uh.... caffeine? Mild swears, Maybe some banter. I have no clue what qualifies as a warning anymore, I'm so sorry, y'all:') Also, sorry for the spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors.

A/n: Should I be doing math right now? Should I actually be sleeping right now? Yes and yes, BUT no one can blame me. I was reading an adorable Jake Seresin Fanfic by @roosterbruiser (everyone go read Millie's work, it's gold) and I got an idea and I had to write it somewhere so here:D

You were pretty used to people assuming you and Jake were an item. When an attractive guy and an attractive girl have been friends since college and spend as much time together as you both do, you suppose it's a fair conclusion for people to draw, but an incorrect one, nonetheless. And you really wish people would stop asking because every time you had to explain to someone how you were "just friends," it ate you a little more inside.

The fact of the matter was this: you were in love with your best friend. And it sucked.

You stepped out of your car and strode along the stone walkway amidst the grass up to Rooster's door and rang the bell. It was a cute little townhouse with a blue exterior and you often poked fun at him for how much it resembled a little wooden birdhouse with its colorful walls and white wood-rimmed windows. You suppose it's fitting since Rooster lives there and yes, he hates that gag. It also serves as your group's prime hang-out spot, which is why you're here now.

The door opened to reveal Natasha, wrapped up in an oversized sweatshirt with her hair thrown up in a claw clip. "Yes, you brought chips!"

"Yeah, you didn't really specify which flavor so I just got them all." You said, walking in. "Guests should start coming in an hour, right?"

"Mmm-hmm." The 7 of you were throwing a casual party to celebrate Jake's promotion to Lieutenant-Commander. You saw Nat lift her eyes and smirk. "And there he is, the man of the hour." You turned around to see Jake at the end of the staircase.

"Well, hello, Mr. Man-of-the-hour," you teased, setting down the numerous bags of chips you were holding.

"Glad you're finally here, N/N. I was starting to think you were going to leave me here to fend for myself against Rooster's ABBA medley." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. It was always like this. Him giving you butterflies you had to ignore because there was inevitably some other girl.

"Oh please, I would never leave you to fend for yourself against Rooster. I would join him and together, we'd overpower you and make you listen to ABBA forever." You grinned up at him and he narrowed his eyes, lips quirking up at the corners.

"Betrayal never comes from an enemy, I see," he shook his head at you. "I will leave you, lovely ladies, to yourselves. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen." You watched Jake walk away and disappear around the corner. When you turned back, Natasha was still wearing that smug smile she always did when she saw you two. You knew it was coming.

"Nix, I'm telling you, if you say it, I'm salting your coffee." She knew you were messing with her but one of these days, you might just do it.

"All I'm saying is, shoot your shot! Come on, just once before you go settle for this rando."

"Mark is not a rando. We know him from accounting!"

"Exactly, Y/N, we know him from accounting. You don't even like the guy, heck you hardly know him."

"Exactly. That's why we're going to get to know each other at this party. I need to get over this crush, now. I can't keep pining for a guy who has no interest in me," you saw Natasha's mouth open as if to say something and you quickly jumped in, "And don't say he's interested. He's been with other girls multiple times and never once looked at me like that."

"True, I won't argue there. He's never looked at any of those girls the way he was just looking at you either." She took her hair out of her claw clip and it fell onto her shoulders in soft waves. "And ever since we all got back from that mission 3 months ago, he hasn't been with anyone. I really think he's got a thing for you but you're right. You should give this Mark guy a shot if you think he'd be good for you."

You smiled softly. You met Jake's friends when you were in San Diego a few years back. About a year ago, you were permanently stationed here and luckily for you, Jake was too. He settled here about 4 months before you. All his friends became your friends, and you've truly never known a better group of people. And they'd never known someone who could wrangle Hangman, so you were quite quickly welcomed to the group.

You and Pheonix tossed your sweatshirts upstairs and fixed up the last bits of your outfits just in time for guests to start arriving. You even managed to slip in a game of cards with Fanboy, Bob, and Payback before you joined a crowd in the living room. You barely felt the tap on your shoulder. If it wasn't followed by your name, you surely would have missed it. You turned on your heel to see Mark from accounting, facing you with a hand in his pocket.

"Mark, hi!"

"Hey. How are you?" His voice was almost monotone. His eyes roamed the room rather than meeting yours. He had just gotten here and he already sounded like he wanted to be somewhere else. You could have sworn he sounded more lively when you met.

"I'm good. I thought you weren't coming till later."

"I got off work early."

"Ah, well that's great." This guy really wasn't giving you much to work with. "Can I get you something to drink? There are drinks and food in the kitchen." That actually went somewhere. You headed to the kitchen where the conversation just barely picked up.

In the distance, Jake noticed your prolonged absence. As silly as it was, Jake liked knowing you were near him. You didn't have to be attached at the hip but he liked knowing he could saunter over to you and escape into your laugh when you came up in his mind. Which was a lot.

He scanned the room for you and stopped when he caught your frame in the kitchen...with some guy? Who the hell was that?

"Damn, if looks could kill...," Rooster muttered. "Do you not like that dude or something?"

"I don't even know who he is," Jake said through gritted teeth. "What's his name?"

"No clue. Pheonix?"

As if on cue, Natasha spoke up. "That, my friends, is Mark from accounting." Both the boys looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Okay, but who is he?" Something in Jake's voice was different now. Both of them looked at him.

"Careful there, Bagman, you almost sound jealous. He's some guy Y/N knows and I think she likes him." Phoenix was searching Jake's face for any sign that she was right about his feelings for you, and he never noticed because his eyes were trained on you like a hawk.

"I'm not jealous, Pheonix."

"You kinda sound jealous, Hangman," Rooster added, earning a glare from Jake.

"Okay, when we first met and you told me about her, you sounded so lovesick, I thought she was your wife. Cut to, you introduce us all and it turns out you're not married, or dating, but friends? I'm sorry, I do not believe that you two don't have feelings for each other." Natasha's remark sparked something in Jake. She watched the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk so small, she almost missed it.

"I'll be right back." Jake stated, already pacing away. Rooster and Pheonix watched Jake make his way into the kitchen.

"She likes him too right?" Rooster asked.

"Oh, absolutely," Pheonix responded.

"You know, Fanboy has a betting pool on them."

"What? Get me on this, I have a feeling we'll make some money tonight."

Jake entered the kitchen to see you sitting alone at the table. "Got room for one more?"

"I don't see why not. Shouldn't you be mingling with everyone out there?"

"Well, the person I want to mingle with is in here." You smiled at him. There it was again, that smile that always left him utterly defenseless. "Who's the guy?"

You don't know why you felt your cheeks heat up when Jake asked about him. "His name's Mark. I met him when I was sorting reports last week."

"Okay. So, why do you sound so upset?"

"Because he said he was going to get us drinks 5 minutes ago and I just saw him leave with Commander Reeves' daughter." Honestly, you weren't upset because he left. You were upset because you were glad he did. He was boring you out of your mind and you two absolutely did not click, but it was still disheartening to know that this is what it was going to be like. No guy was going to measure up to the one you wished you were with. The one who was at this table with you now.

Jake was seething. What kind of idiot comes to a party and leaves you for some other girl? "You wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"Let's leave. I'm bored."

"It's your party, you dork, you can't just leave!" You were giggling at a feeling somewhere in between confusion and disbelief.

"Yeah, it is my party so I say, you and I get out of here." He took you by the hand and walked you out through the back door to his car. And you let him. The chilly air swept you both up.

The drive was pretty calm. You didn't know where Jake was going but you didn't care either. This reminded you of when you two were younger. The long quiet rides in the car with no one but each other for company. He'd put on some cheesy 80's power ballad and you'd both laugh at it until you'd give in and belt it out at the top of your lungs.

"If you don't mind my asking, what did you see in him?"

"I don't really even remember. I think I just wanted to try and get myself out there. I haven't been on a date in literally years."

Jake hesitated before he asked. "So... what made you want to start now?" You felt the words catch in your throat.

"I'm not sure." you lied. You. I'm in love with you and I can't take it.

You felt the car slow down. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even see where Jake parked. A cute little coffee shop and patisserie. Jake got out of his car and rounded the front to open the door for you. He already had you head over heels for him and he didn't even know it. Did he have to be such a gentleman? You weren't sure that you could fall even harder for this man but you really didn't want to find out.

"Why don't you get us a table and I'll get us something to drink. Don't worry, I remember what you like." You nodded and found a two-seat table by the french windows overlooking the city. On the left, in the distance, the last light of sunset was hitting the water and the top of the sky had started to go dark. Little stars twinkled above you. You wondered what it would be like to always be like this? Evenings with you and Jake, running off alone together from places and people you didn't really want to see. Taking comfort in each other's presence because it felt like home. Just then, Jake sat down in front of you. It almost hurt knowing he was right in front of you and you couldn't have him.

"Screw stupid Mark from accounting. He was not worth your time."

"Thanks. It's fine really, I'll find someone else. Someone less boring." When you met Jake's eyes, he looked as if he had something to say. Something he was holding back. "What is it?"

"Don't find someone else."

Did he just- Did you hear him right?

"What? Why?"

"Because-"

"I have a coffee and a latte for Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?" The barista called. You actually felt your heart skip a beat. Your eyebrows scrunched together and you looked to Jake for answers.

"Well, I think that's us." He blurted like it answered all your questions, a smile heard in his voice.

"Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?" You queried, rising out of your seat in tandem with him. "Why'd you tell her we were 'Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?!'"

"Because you looked so down and I thought I'd get a reaction from you! And it's not all my fault, Pheonix gave me the idea." Jake stated, matter-of-factly. How could he say that so casually?! "And you're still looking red so I guess it worked."

You both grabbed your coffees and sat down once again. It was dark out now. Once your laughs and giggles over your reaction were out, you remembered where your last conversation left off.

"Jake, why'd you tell me not to find someone?" You didn't force the question too hard into the conversation. You asked softly, not knowing how or if he would answer. He sighed before he spoke like he was preparing himself.

"Because...because I can't ask you out if you're dating someone else." The emotions hit you like a bombshell.

"You want to ask me out?" You weren't sure this was real. You were really about to pinch yourself before he stopped you in your tracks.

"I've been meaning to for months. Y/N, we've been friends forever, and I didn't want to ruin what we have. I know I should have told you before because I've liked you for as long as- Why are you smiling?"

"Because, you big dummy, I like you too." You couldn't hold it back. You were beaming. You felt butterflies and fireworks all at once just because the man of your dreams just made it all a reality. Jake held your eyes in his and smiled ear-to-ear. You swore you saw his ears go red but if you asked him, you doubt he’d admit it. "I'm really happy right now but I have no clue what to do next."

"I've got it from here," Jake reaches out and takes your hand in both of his. It feels like electricity is coursing through your veins. "Y/N L/N, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

It took everything in you not to squeal in this coffee shop. "Yes, I will do you that honor, Bagman." You responded. He chuckled at you.

"Every now and again, I feel like introducing you to Pheonix was a mistake."

"Speaking of which, I really want to tell her about this but she'll get all smug because she was right."

"You're right. As far as people we don't have to tell yet go, Fanboy and Rooster have been betting on us. We can just keep it from them for now too."

"Deal." A laugh bubbled out of you as you thought about how the squad would react. And then a knock sounded directly next to you on the french window.

"Aww, cute," Rooster noted, his voice muffled by the glass, but still clear enough for you to hear his teasing tone.

"Left your own party so soon?" There stood Pheonix. Along with the rest of the squad leaning against Bradley's bronco.

"Shit." you commented.

"So much for keeping it secret."

———————————————————————

Tag list:

@glorified-red

#rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #hangman drabble #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fluff #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #fluff #jake hangman x reader

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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

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Chapter 16- The Lone Star State

Summary: You and Javi head to Dallas for the weekend to make good on his Christmas present to the Stars vs. Blackhawks game. While you're there, you run into someone from your past that sets the weekend in a different direction.

Word Count: 15.7K (I'm genuinely so sorry except I'm not)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) strap in y'all... unprotected p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, light bondage (aren't we glad Javi brought his work tie?!), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, dom/sub Javi AND Osita (omg y'all), Javi being a whining, WHIMPERING mess (it deserves its own warning) violence (Javi punches someone), alcohol/being tipsy, food/eating, I'm not even gonna lie everyone... This chapter is really just hockey and sex LMAOOOOO

A/N: Trick or Treat! Here's a lil Halloween something for all of you being so patient and waiting for me to finish this unexpected monster 🫣 I swear, I thought I was gonna struggle to make this chapter long enough, and now here we are, with the longest NTL chapter to date 🥴 SO EAT UP AND ENJOY 🤪 Shout out to @endlessthxxghts for listening to my horny ramblings about this chapter ILYYYYYYY

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Your teacher guilt had never been good at letting you take days off. You had gone to school with sore throats, stuffy noses, fevers, hell, you had gone to school with what you were convinced was the plague because you felt so bad leaving your class with a sub. So when it came to taking personal days, it was safe to say, you felt even worse. That’s why Javi knew when he had planned your Christmas trip to Dallas with a Friday night game for the Chicago Blackhawks vs. the Dallas Stars, he was going to need plenty of backup support from your co-workers to convince you it was okay to take a Friday afternoon off to do something for yourself to enjoy.

“Okay, and just make sure that the substitute knows that all of the worksheets for math are on my desk next to-”

“MIJA. Dios Mio. Yes, yes, yes, I will make sure the substitute knows where everything is. It is a Friday afternoon, all she needs to do is keep them alive. Don’t worry about a thing, I promise I have it covered. Now go! Tu futuro esposo te está esperando! (Your future husband is waiting for you!)” Maria waved her hand at you, practically shooing you out of your own classroom, trying to get you to stop explaining your very detailed plans you had left behind that you had already told her 4 different times leading up to today, in addition to leaving an extra copy on her desk, just in case something went wrong.

“Okay, okay! Thank you Maria. You’re the best.” You laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder, starting to make your way down the hall to the front office.

“Yo se. Ten un buen fin de semana! (I know. Have a fun weekend!). Not too much fun, if you know what I mean.” Maria winked, waving goodbye as she walked the opposite direction back towards her own classroom.

“Maria!” You grimaced, your face turning bright red watching her cackle in delight as she closed her door behind her. You took a final breath as you headed down the hallway, convincing yourself that your class would be just fine for their substitute, and even if they weren’t, well, that would just have to be Monday’s problem.

“Man, you’re really sexy for a taxi driver, you taking people to the airport, hottie?” you giggled, hopping into the passenger’s side of Javi’s truck, tossing your school bag into the backseat with the rest of your suitcases. Like most people’s jobs, Javi’s work at the sheriff’s department didn’t require him to leave behind detailed instructions of how to keep 25 8 year olds alive and educated when he wanted to take time off, so he had offered to leave work early to pack up all of your things so you could head right to the airport from Alma Pierce Elementary. “Oh my god, and you got BLT’s from Alejandro’s, too? Sexiness and bringing me sandwiches? This is the best cab ride I’ve ever had.” The two of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes at you, passing you over your sandwich as you headed en route to the Laredo Airport.

“You’re such a weirdo. How was your day, Osita?” Javi asked, reaching over to place his hand on your leg, gently tracing circles in the denim of your jeans as you chowed down on your sandwich, finally getting a chance at a bite of food for the first time since breakfast.

“Better now that I’m with you. And that you brought me this delicious sandwich. I’ve been so distracted all day because I’ve been so excited for this weekend.” You beamed through bites of your BLT, reaching down to give Javi’s hand a squeeze.

“Me too, Hermosa. I’ve never been to Dallas before, so I’m glad my first trip is with you.”

“Seriously? I guess I forget how big Texas is. It’s probably like what, a 7 hour drive from Laredo?” You shrugged, taking another bite of your sandwich, trying to calculate the distance in your brain.

“About 6 and a half. Which is exactly why we’re flying, and not driving.”

“What? You don’t wanna spend 6 and a half hours in the car with me?” You smirked, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow before crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, I don’t wanna spend 5 hours and 45 minutes by myself driving while you sleep the whole way.” He laughed, elbowing you back, the both of you knowing you made the worst road trip partner for any drive longer than an hour, since you’d be sound asleep in the passenger’s seat as Javi drove.

“To be fair, you’re always the one driving.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at his jab, knowing he wasn’t wrong.

“Because you refuse to drive my truck, and I’m convinced if you drive your car anywhere more than 10 miles at a time, it’ll collapse.”

“Hey! Woodstock can make it at least a good 50 before I start to get genuinely concerned. I trust him more than I trust the metal death trap we’re about to ride in. I think you just like watching me suffer while we fly because you know how much I hate it.” You sassed, giving him an unseriously stern look that had you on the verge of bursting into laughter.

“I think the bones in my hand would beg to differ, Hermosa. After the past two flights to Chicago, I’m surprised I have any left considering the death grip you have every time we take off and land.” Javi chuckled, nudging you back.

“Like I said Jav, you’re the one who booked the flight, can’t blame this one on me.”

To neither of your surprise, you couldn’t help but find your hand tightly wrapped in Javi’s for the hour and a half flight from Laredo to Dallas. Although he refrained from giving you any shit as you sat only partially paralyzed next to him on your trip, his “I told you so” look as the two of you got off the plane was all he needed to do to have you rolling your eyes, knowing as long as the two of you flew together, he would always tease you for crushing his hand, but you and him both knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Your cab ride from the airport to the hotel was a quick trip, Javi picking a hotel downtown close to fun bars and restaurants for the two of you to try, and to Reunion Arena where you were headed in a few hours to watch the Stars and the Blackhawks play. You both unpacked your bags from the taxi, Javi insisting that he carry your bag too. It didn’t take long into your relationship for you to give up on trying to persuade Javi that you could carry your own bags, open your own doors or go get things yourself, his response always being “I know you can, Hermosa, but I want to.” While the stubborn part of you always wanted to fight him on it, there was always a part of you that couldn’t help but smile every time he insisted on doing things for you simply because he wanted to, for no other reason than the fact he loved you.

“Hi, we’re checking in. The name should be under Javier Peña.” Javi smiled at the woman at the front desk of the hotel as the both of you strolled up hand in hand.

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Peña it looks like we’ve got you checking in tonight and then checking out on Sunday, is that correct?” The woman nodded back at the two of you, clicking away at the keyboard in front of her to gather the rest of your room information. You and Javi paused for a moment, quietly looking at each other with smug grins on your faces, feeling no need to correct her mistake.

“Yup, that’s us.” You chimed in, giving Javi a little nudge under the counter, still smirking at the thought of hearing your last name as his.

“Perfect! We have you staying in room 403. If you take a left down this hallway, the elevators are right that way. Have a wonderful stay, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” The woman grinned, handing over your room keys and gesturing down the hallway, the two of you nodding back, giving a polite thanks as you grabbed your bags and headed off towards your room.

“Didn’t feel the need to correct her on that one, huh?” You giggled, playfully poking at Javi as the two of you waited for the elevator.

“Absolutely not, Mrs. Peña.” He grinned, grabbing your bags as the two of you stepped through the open doors of the elevator, glad to find it empty as you pressed the button to ride up to your floor. “Fuck, I can’t believe in a few months you’re actually gonna be my wife. God, I can’t wait.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach as you looked up at him, soft smiles spread across both your faces. “Me neither. Crazy to think the next time we stay at a hotel together it’ll be on our honeymoon.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him, biting down on your lip. Javi shook his head, running his hand over his face almost in disbelief before pulling you in closer, reaching his hand down to grab a handful of your ass as his voice rasped in your ear.

“Fuck me. Better make sure we put this hotel room to good use and get some practice in before we go then, huh?”

Before you could respond, you could hear the ding of the elevator doors sliding open, Javi quickly pulling away, noticing several hotel guests standing on the other side of the door, grabbing your bags and getting off the elevator. You let out a deep sigh, trying to compose yourself as you excused yourself through the small crowd, giving Javi a goofy, stern look as he laughed, carting your bags behind him as you made your way down the hall towards your room.

“You cannot just be saying stuff like that, you menace. You know we do not have time to do anything before we have to leave, and you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered.” You grimaced, playfully swatting at him as he set down your things to grab the room key out of his pocket.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita. I would never do that.” Javi joked, a boyish grin growing between his cheeks as he pushed open the door, hauling your bags inside. “Plus, you know I could make it quick, we could have time if you really wanted to.” Throwing your bags down on the ground next to the bed, Javi smirked as he sat down on the edge, giving you the sweet brown eyes he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Oh bullshit you never would, you dork.” You rolled your eyes, making your way over to Javi, slotting yourself in between his legs as you ran your hands through the soft brown curls of his hair, pressing a tender kiss on his lips before pulling away, cupping your hand around his cheek. “Believe me, I know you could, but the game starts in an hour and a half and we still have to eat dinner and get to the stadium. You spent all this money on me to take me here to see the game and we’re not missing it because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.”

“When you’ve got a future wife as hot as you, can you blame me?” Javi shrugged, wrapping his arms around your waist, reaching his hands down to grab your ass again, tugging you hard enough to make you fall over on top of him, making you giggle as you landed on his chest.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Believe me, once we get back, my future husband can have me any way he wants me. But right now, we have a hockey game to get to, Mr. Peña.” You grinned, biting down on your lip before giving him another quick kiss and pushing yourself off the bed, leaving Javi still laying down wide eyed and worked up as you rummaged through your suitcase, pulling out a Blackhawks jersey for you, and one from Charlie’s extensive collection for Javi to borrow, tossing it on the bed next to him. You shuffled out of the sweater you had worn to work, leaving you in just your bra and jeans as you searched through your bag to pull out a crewneck to wear under your jersey.

“Any way? You’re not making this any easier on me.” Javi huffed, beginning to shed his own jacket to change, undressing you with his eyes faster than you could have undressed yourself.

“Well you’re not about to make it any easier on me once you put that jersey on either.” You sighed, watching Javi throw on his jersey over his shirt, your jaw immediately going slack at the sight. “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot. God, I can’t even look at you. C’mon, we gotta get outta here before we miss this whole game.” You laughed, overdramatically shielding your eyes from Javi, marching your way over to the door to avoid any temptations. Javi chuckled, grabbing his jacket and following behind you, opening up the door for you, outstretching his arm toward the hallway.

“After you, Mrs. Peña.”

Someway or another, the two of you managed to make it out of the hotel, deciding on a barbeque restaurant down the street from the stadium for dinner. The two of you decided to get ribs to split, leaving Javi equal parts shocked and impressed at the speed you demolished your dinner, realizing you were much hungrier than you had anticipated. After finishing your dinner, the two of you walked over to Reunion Arena, perhaps feeling a little like the odd ones out in your red and black amongst a sea of green and gold, but the feeling of being back in a stadium to watch a live hockey game filled you with a sense of comfort and content even if you were far from your home arena in Chicago.

“I haven’t been to an NHL game in so long. You seriously have no idea how excited I am for this, thank you so much, Jav.” You beamed, squeezing his hand as the two of you made your way into the arena, working your way through the sizeable crowd, considering how well the Dallas Stars had been doing this season. “I feel honored to be the first one to take you to your first professional hockey game.”

“Of course, Osita. I’m excited to be here with you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have gone my whole life without ever watching a hockey game.” Javi smiled, gripping your hand a little tighter than usual as you navigated through the sea of fans, trying to find your seats.

There hadn’t been many instances where you and Javi had found yourselves in large crowds of people, but whenever you did, you could always sense the slight shift in Javi’s demeanor- While it didn’t make him uneasy, you could always tell he was a little more on alert and on edge. Your brothers had been the same way when they had come back from active duty whenever they were in crowds, and you could understand why Javi felt that way, too. But what Javi was that your brothers weren’t when you found yourselves in these situations was overly protective of you. Holding your hand tighter than normal, shielding your body with his whenever you had to walk through a crowd, giving guys who looked in your direction a little too long a death glare he hoped you wouldn’t catch- Javi would never admit it, knowing the stubborn and independent woman you were, but you knew just as well as he did that he got just a touch more possessive whenever the two of you went out, and tonight was no exception.

Javi had tried to chalk it up to the fact that you stood out because of your opposing jerseys, but he couldn’t help but notice the looks that you had been getting since the minute you had entered the stadium, the wandering eyes of groups of guys with their buddies silently nodding to each other with subtle smirks on their faces as you unassumingly walked by. And while he was never worried that you would do anything about it, he couldn’t help but feel a little heat start to burn in the pit of his stomach as men looked your way a little too long, especially as the two of you walked hand in hand through the arena, the men glancing in your direction knowing you were off limits because you were his. While he wouldn’t say it, and was going to try his damndest not to show it, Javi couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

After a quick walk through the arena, you and Javi found your section, practically dragging him down the steps towards your seats in excitement to know your seats were right up against the boards at center ice, which, to you, were the best seats in all of hockey regardless of where you were watching. “Javi, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, these seats are amazing, I have never had seats this good at a hockey game ever! You sure these are our seats? Like, we actually get to sit here?” You squealed, pointing to the pair of empty seats in your row, practically bouncing in excitement.

“Yes, actually.” Javi laughed, beaming at your pure joy and excitement as you plopped into your spots, watching you take in the sights and sounds of the pre-game excitement. You were like a little kid on Christmas, even giddier than you were when you first saw the tickets on the day as your present, filling Javi’s heart to know his gift had brought you such genuine happiness.

Looking up at the scoreboard, you figured you had just enough time to go to the bathroom and grab the two of you a beer before the game started, shooting up out of your seat and giving Javi a quick kiss on the cheek as you scooted past him. “Where are you going?” Javi asked, looking at you with confusion as you made your way down the aisle.

“I gotta pee and I’m gonna go grab us drinks before the game starts.” You gestured up towards the stairs and then back at the game clock ticking down towards zero. You were equally as confused as Javi started to stand up too, looking like he was getting ready to follow you. “You need to pee, too?”

“No, I was uh- I was gonna go with you.” Stuck halfway between standing and sitting, Javi paused, trying to silently convey to you that he didn’t mind going, for his own sake to know that no one was going to try and bother you on your trip.

“Jav, I’m good, it’ll be like 5 minutes, don’t worry.” You nodded reassuringly, giving him a little shrug as you made your way up the steps to the entrance of your section.

“O-okay.” Javi half smiled back at you, watching the whole way you went up before you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him anxiously tapping his fingers against his jeans as he waited for you to return.

The one benefit of being a female hockey fan was that you seemed to come few and far between, making your trips to the bathroom at any game much shorter than the average women’s bathroom line, happily speeding in and out before making your way over to the concession stand. You stood in line, peeking your head over the other people waiting with you to try and see what your beer choices were on the menu above the cash registers, when you noticed familiar flashes of red and black jerseys a few lines over. Out of curiosity, you stood on your tiptoes, peering through the crowd to see who else had Blackhawks jerseys on all the way out in Dallas. Taking a few steps forward with your moving line, you were able to get a better look at the group of guys chatting amongst each other, only able to see the backs of their heads and the player’s jerseys they were wearing, until one of them turned around towards you making your gut sink and your heart stop.

There’s no fucking way.

You immediately turned around, hoping the group hadn’t seen you staring, visibly shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts. You quickly looked over once more, only able to see the backs of their heads again, making it easier to convince yourself you must have just been seeing things.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you ready to order?” A woman called out from the cash register, trying to get your attention as you stood frozen in disbelief, staring at the ground.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Sorry. Um, can I uh- I can I just get two Miller Lites, please?” You asked, pulling out your wallet and handing over a few bills and your ID, nervously bouncing your leg while you waited for her to return with your drinks, stuffing your change back into your pocket and grabbing your beers. You tried as best as you could to book it back to your seats, praying that if who you thought you had seen was really there, you had made it out fast enough that they hadn’t seen you.

You had made it back just in time, the lights in the arena now beginning to dim, the crowd roaring as the Blackhawks and the Stars skated out of the tunnel to greet the crowd and warm up before the game started. You had hoped that the darkness of the arena would be enough to hide your rattled expression from Javi as you snuck back to your seat, passing his beer off to him as you sat down with yours, taking a long swig before setting it down in your cup holder. While the lack of lights may have been enough to hide your face, it wasn’t enough to make up for your silence as you sat down next to Javi, now looking over at you with concern. “You okay, Osita?” He asked, reaching down to wrap his hand around your knee that you had been trying to keep from anxiously tapping since you got back to your seat.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I just- um, I just thought I saw someone that I knew here but I don’t know how the hell it would be them or why they would be in Dallas, so it must have just been someone who looked like them. Sorry, it was just weird.” You shook your head again, trying to use any rational part of your brain to convince yourself of your words, and not let it ruin the rest of your night. “I’m good, I promise.” Leaning over the edge of your seat, you planted a soft kiss on Javi’s cheek, giving him a reassuring smile before letting out a big cheer as the announcer began shouting out the names of the Blackhawks starting lineup through the arena.

Thankfully, it didn’t take much for you to forget about your unsettling observation at the concession stand- the excitement and energy of the game quickly took over, cheering and screaming as the puck dropped and the first period began. The seats that Javi had picked out were incredible, giving you a close up on all of the action, including a few body checks pressed up against the glass right next to you as the two teams battled on the ice. You had always told Javi whenever you watched games on TV that you never expected him to care or be nowhere near as invested as you were, but knowing how important it was to you and how much you loved it, he had made an effort to try and learn as much as he could to keep up, leaning over to your seat every once in a while to ask you questions or try and point out something he noticed. It warmed your heart to see how much Javi wanted to show that he cared, and made you even more thrilled to see that he was just as into watching the game as you were, now yelling and clapping along with you opposite the crowd filled with Dallas Stars fans. Anything you did with Javi made you happy, simply because you got to be with him, but you really owed it to him for making this one of the best hockey games that you had been to in a very, very long time.

As the second period came to a close, the Blackhawks were up 2-1, the two of you so excited by the game that you hadn’t realized you both could go for another beer refill and another trip to the bathroom. You made your way up the stairs, Javi following close behind as you parted ways at the entrance to your section, agreeing that you would go get your drinks and meet him at the concession stand, since your trip to the bathroom was probably going to be much shorter than his. After a quick run through a nearly empty bathroom, you shot back over to the concession stand, standing back in the same line you were before, completely forgetting about your observation from your last trip.

Grabbing both of your beers, you leaned against a pillar next to the concession stand, waiting for Javi to come back from the bathroom, when you heard the faintly familiar voices nearby, your stomach starting to turn once again, looking out at the crowd to see if you could find where they were coming from. You peered your head the opposite direction of where you came, feeling a sense of relief with no black or red jerseys in sight, cautiously tiling your eyes back the other way, only to feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach with the group of guys now standing in front of you. Your chest began to pound, squeezing your eyes shut, somehow hoping it would make you, or better yet, them disappear, but it was no use.

“I told you it was her! How’s it going, Ice Princess? Long time, no see! I can’t fucking believe this. Paul! Paul! Get over here, I told you it was her, you motherfucker!”

Letting out a deep breath, you reluctantly opened your eyes to see your ex-boyfriend Paul and his obnoxious group of friends standing in front of you, snickering and pointing like middle school boys in your general direction at your absolutely flabbergasted face. “You gotta be fucking kidding me…” You muttered under your breath, clenching your jaw and tightening your grip around your beers as the group approached you, pushing Paul front and center, as if you needed it to be any more obvious that his presence had been known.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped, glaring at Paul’s tall and lanky figure, his short blonde hair spiked up in the same way you absolutely hated, cocky grin stretched across his face as he approached you.

“Damn, nice to see you too, Princess.” Paul laughed, his group of friends joining in and cackling behind, giving each other playful slaps.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You growled, giving him a deathly glare, now anxiously bouncing your foot, wondering where Javi was and what was taking him so long. “You didn’t answer my question, asshole.”

“Calm down, Princess, Jesus. We’re here this weekend for an accounting conference downtown. Work paid for us to fly down today so we figured we’d catch the game since the Hawks were playing tonight. What the hell are you doing here?” Paul crossed his arms, giving you a condescendingly smug smirk, as if you were supposed to be happy to see him.

“I live here? Remember that thing where you were a complete dickwad and cheated behind my back for 2 years and told me my brother deserved to die so it became incredibly clear to me that there is no one else on the fucking face of this earth I would rather be with less than you? Or is that too much for your idiot brain to remember?” You were practically snarling at him at this point, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as the angry pit in your stomach grew heavier and heavier each second you looked at Paul. God, where the hell was Javi?

“Ouch…” One of the guys grimaced behind Paul’s back, the rest of them frowning in agreement, almost impressed by your brashness. “Told you this wasn’t gonna go over well, dude.” Another mumbled, giving Paul a little nudge.

“Shut the fuck up, Eric.” Paul retorted, rolling his eyes at his friend, trying to save the little dignity you had just spared him. “Okay, okay, point taken. I did some not so great shit, sorry. Don’t need to be such a brat about it.” Holding up his hands in defense, Paul shrugged, giving you the most unapologetic look you had ever seen. “Listen, one of the guys said he saw a hot chick in a Blackhawks jersey, it sparked my attention, turns out it was you. Figured I’d come say hi, let you know you still look real fuckin’ good. See if maybe you wanna go get a drink or something after the game and catch up?”

You were so heated and filled with rage locked in your sinister staring match with Paul that you hadn’t heard Javi come up behind you, making you flinch and spill some of the beer you had been holding as he quickly grabbed them out of your hands, setting them down on the ground before instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist. Even though you were still fuming, you felt a sense of relief wash over you to see that not only was Javi finally back, but that he had clearly also picked up on the fact that you did not look happy to see whoever had been talking to you.

“These guys bothering you?” Javi asked, digging his fingertips into your hip, shooting Paul a menacing glare. Before you could say anything to try and explain what the hell was happening, Paul was scoffing at you and Javi, giving you a disgusted look as he pointed at him.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Javi snapped back, his tone becoming increasingly harsher with the way Paul had responded to his presence.

“A friend from Chicago-”

“A friend from Chicago?! Shut the fuck up, Paul.” You groaned, jaw dropping in shock that he had the audacity to try and play it off to Javi like he was an old acquaintance you were happy to run into. “This is my fiancé, asshole.”

“Fiancé? Yikes, talk about needing a fucking rebound, huh?” Paul laughed, his friends joining in behind him

“What’s that supposed to mean, motherfucker?” You growled, lunging toward Paul, Javi grabbing you by your waist to keep you from getting any further, pulling you back towards him. The sight of Javi having to physically restrain you from trying to go after him only made Paul laugh harder, shaking his head and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh before speaking again.

“God, you’re just as much as fucking mess as you were when we broke up, aren’t you? The boys always said I liked ‘em hot and crazy so guess we’re fuckin’ two for two, aren’t we, Princess? Good luck with this one, man. You got your fucking hands full.” Looking you up and down as you tugged against Javi’s grasp, trying to free yourself, Paul let out one last huff of amusement before beginning to turn around and walk away, only to be stopped by a large hand yanking at the back of his jersey, forcing him to back around to meet Javi’s broad body looming over his. While you were full of rage and on the verge of trying to punch Paul’s teeth in, Javi had let go of his grasp with a look like he was ready to kill as he stepped towards Paul, jaw clenched and fist drawn as his grip on Paul’s jersey shifted from his back to under his neck, the fabric balled tight in his hands as he pulled Paul towards him.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about my future wife like that again or I’ll fucking kill you, you understand?” Javi threatened, his voice low and ominous as he drew Paul closer to his face, making sure he heard every word coming through the snarl of his gritted teeth.

Oh.

Javi knew you had no problem standing up for yourself. He knew you probably could have taken Paul down yourself if he’d let you go at him. But if there was one thing Javi knew for god damn sure, it was that he wasn’t above beating the shit out of anyone who threatened to even look at you the wrong way, let alone deliberately insult you. Just as well as he knew that, you also knew that Javi wasn’t the type to get in pissing matches with other guys just to assert his dominance.

But the way he had stormed after Paul with no hesitation, hoisting him up by the collar of his shirt and threatening him with the dangerous rumble looming in his voice had the pounding in your chest quickly fading from anger to arousal at the way Javi’s instincts had gone into overdrive to protect you- and that, that was something you were not expecting to make you as hot and bothered as it was.

“Jesus, okay man, okay!” Paul moaned, preemptively flinching and wincing his face as Javi leaned in towards him before letting him go and shoving him down, making him stumble as he tried to regain his balance. You would have thought that would have been plenty to get Paul to run off, tail tucked between his legs in embarrassment, but you had forgotten what a wonderfully delightful douchebag your ex was, always needing to get in the last word in any argument just to prove a point. “Fuckin’ have her man. Good fuckin’ riddance, bitch.”

And just like that, without a second thought, without even a hesitation, hearing Paul mumble that last sentence under his breath was enough to have Javi’s hand balled in a fist, immediately winding up to punch Paul square in the face, instantly knocking him to the cold, hard cement of the arena floor in a sobbing, whimpering heap.

Taking a step back to shake out his hand and admire the pitiful mess Paul had become, Javi let the slightest smirk slide across his face before immediately turning back to you, gently cupping your face, melting you with his sweet brown eyes filled with concern- A stark contrast from his stone cold demeanor only moments ago. “Are you okay, Hermosa?”

“Are you okay? Javi… holy shit.” Grabbing Javi’s hand from the side of your face, pulling it down to examine his red knuckles, you darted your eyes back and forth between him and Paul, still writhing on the ground, blood dripping down his nose. You couldn’t help but feel your eyes go wide, butterflies swirling in your stomach as a tiny grin curled between your lips looking down at what Javi had done to your ex. You had never seen Javi get aggressive like this, and despite everything you’d ever thought about not needing a man to come swoop in and save you, it was taking everything in you not to pounce on him right then and there by how turned on you were by the fact he had just easily decked Paul to the ground in your defense.

“Fuck you, motherfucker, I think you broke my nose!” Paul whimpered, wiping away blood with the back of his hand, trying to press himself back up to stand. “Security!”

“Don’t even bother. We’re leaving. Fuck you too, Paul.” You scoffed, grabbing Javi’s hand as you tugged him away, proudly flipping Paul off as you passed by, pushing your way through the small audience that had formed around you from your tussle, several people giving you and Javi silent nods of approval after watching what had happened. Once you had dragged Javi far enough away, he paused, stopping in his tracks, forcing you to turn back towards him.

“Osita. Baby, fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t want us to have to leave because of me, we came all this way to watch the game and I, fuck- I don’t- I don’t know what got into me, but there was no way I was gonna fucking let him talk to you like that, I-”

“Javi. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t care if the Blackhawks win, I don’t care if they lose, I don’t care if we get blown out 75-0, if you don’t take me back to our hotel room and fuck me right now, I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.” Taking a few steps back where Javi had froze, you placed your hands on his chest, grabbing two big fist fulls of his jersey before pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a hot, wet kiss on his lips, biting down on your lip and raising an eyebrow at him as you pulled back.

“Fuck, okay. Hermosa, are you sure?” Javi smirked, gently brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, resting his hand around your jaw.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything. Take me back to our room and fuck the shit out of me, Javier Peña.”

It was then Javi’s turn to drag you off through the arena, immediately grabbing your hand and working through the crowd, practically running back to your hotel, your limbs immediately intertangling the moment you found yourselves alone in the elevator. Your hands ran along each other’s bodies, your kisses frantic and desperate down the empty hallway to your room, Javi barely able to pull away for long enough to tug his room key out of his pocket. Your back was pressed against the door, trapped under Javi’s body towering over you as he finally was able to slide the card in the door, the pressure of your weight pushing against it forcing it open as it unlocked.

Your hands roamed needily as your mouths met with an electric intensity, stumbling towards the bed with faltering steps before your back hit the plush mattress, Javi leaning over you with hands planted on either side of your head, his kisses now trailing from your lips to your neck, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as his hands slid under your shirt, palming at your bra and digging his fingertips into your soft flesh. Your hands began to roam too, traveling from the tight grip they had around Javi’s jersey as you pulled him closer to you towards his jeans, reaching out to tug at the denim waistband before feeling Javi’s grip wrap around your wrist, pulling both hands above your head and pinning them to the mattress under the width of his broad grasp.

“Nuh uh, Hermosa.” Javi tutted, a devilish smirk growing across his face as his eyes darkened, squeezing your wrists in his hand, arms still raised over you. He dipped his head down, placing slow, tender kisses along your collarbone before working his way up your neck and jaw, catching the breaths of your moans in his mouth as his lips pressed against yours. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum as many times as I want first, understand? This pussy’s all fucking mine.”

Oh fuck.

You could feel your stomach swirl with arousal from the growl in Javi’s voice, his words sending a shiver down your spine, eyes wide as you quietly nodded in agreement. Javi was a lot of things when the two of you fucked- tender, attentive, god, even when you wanted him to be rough with you, you could tell there was a part of him that always held back, because the thought of ever doing something that would come even close to hurting you was something he would never do. But the tone of his voice was something that you had never heard from him before- it was demanding, possessive, and holy fuck did it turn you on way more than you would have ever expected it to.

Barely getting out any coherent verbal response to coincide with your head shaking in compliance, Javi let go of your wrists, standing back up, his body hovering over yours at the edge of the bed. “Good girl. Take your clothes off, baby.” Javi rasped, taking a step back to watch as you sat up, quickly pulling off your jersey and crewneck underneath before working your way down to your jeans, shuffling them down your legs and kicking them off your feet, leaving you in your bra and underwear, frantically trying to shed them too before Javi stopped you again, tilting your chin up towards him as his thumb traced along your jawline. He looked you up and down, his smirk widening across his face at the cute matching bra and panty set you had worn, knowing it was one of his favorites and that he’d enjoy your little surprise. “You wear this for me, Hermosa?” Javi asked, his thumb now gently dragging down your bottom lip as he bit down on his own.

“Mhmmmm.” You grinned, giving him a little wink, scooting yourself closer towards the edge of the bed to try and grab at his jersey and pull him close enough to work your hands under and run them along his stomach, sneaking them down to unbutton his jeans. You had only outstretched your arms halfway before his hand was around your wrist again, shaking his head in a playful disapproval.

“So needy. What did I say, baby? Not until I say so, remember? Needy girls still have to be patient, don’t they?” Dropping your wrist, Javi turned around, taking a few steps back before bending down to unzip his suitcase by the end of the bed, shuffling around through his clothes before pulling out the blue and gold tie you had gotten him for his birthday and had worn to work earlier this morning. You cocked your head to the side as you watched him rummage through his clothes, your face still slightly confused when the only thing he pulled out was his tie, until your brain quickly put two and two together. “Maybe this will help you remember. Give me your hands.” Javi paused for a moment, his demeanor shifting back to the sweet and soft man you usually got in the bedroom, his puppy dog eyes staring at you for approval as he quietly mouthed “Is this okay?” to you as he ran his hand up and down the length of his tie. Fuck, did you love this man.

Your jaw hung open in delighted shock, his suggestion going straight to your pussy, your underwear already soaked from the thought of what he was about to do. Feverishly, you nodded, sticking out your hands, wrists pressed together in front of you for Javi, smirking up at him with heavy lashes.

“If it’s too much, or you want me to stop, just-”

“I know. Do your worst, Peña.”

With that, Javi’s sweet facade quickly shifted, taking the silky fabric of his tie and knotting it around your wrists, making sure to leave enough room to keep you comfortable as he wrapped his hands around your hips, picking you up to scoot you further back on the bed, caging his body over yours. He palmed at your bra, freeing your breast to roll your pebbled nipples between his fingers, the sensation making you writhe and moan beneath him, and he hadn’t even touched anything below your waist.

“So fucking pretty. Wearing this just for me, knowing I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, that no other man gets to have you like I have you.” His words were hot and heavy against your skin, making your breath hitch as his hand slid down your soft skin, snaking under the waistband of your underwear and running two fingers through your folds, dripping with your arousal. “Knowing that I’m the only one who makes you wet like this. Why is that, sweet girl? Whose pussy is this?” Javi mewled, dragging his fingers along your slit, collecting the slick pooling between your legs, watching you squirm under his touch.

“It’s yours Javi. Fuck- Fuck baby, it’s all yours.” You whined as Javi’s now soaked fingers snuck out of your panties, bringing them to your mouth.

“Suck.” He grinned, watching you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tangy taste lingering on his digits. “That’s right it is. All mine, forever.” Pulling his hand back, he replaced it with his mouth, crashing into you, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip with a passionate ferocity before sliding down your body, bringing himself face to face with the delicate lace covering your dripping heat. Hooking his fingers around the waistband, he slid your underwear down your legs, gently kissing around your thighs, already fighting against the silky fabric tied around your wrists, trying to reach down to tug the dark curls of his hair and pull him closer to you. His kisses traveled closer and closer to your core, his nose barely brushing your clit, making you moan.

“Javi… Baby, please.” You whined, wiggling your bottom half against the cool, crisp sheets, needing for Javi to touch you, taste you, do something besides tease you like this.

“Please what, Osita? Words, baby.” Javi smirked, slowly inching his way towards your center, wrapping his arms around your legs, gripping them in place.

“Touch me, eat me out, fuck me, anything, fuck- please, please, I-”

Before you could plead anymore, you gasped, feeling the broad stroke of Javi’s firm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit, finally easing some of the ache of how worked up you had been since the moment you had watched him knock Paul to the ground. Unlike just moments ago, Javi began lapping you up like a man starved, feverishly flicking his tongue along your sensitive bundle of nerves, the pattern of his movements making you buck your hips towards his face, fighting against his strong arms holding you in place.

Latching his lips, he sucked at your clit, the newfound sensation making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to grow, the inside of your thighs covered with the shiny slick of your arousal and Javi’s saliva as he worked ferociously at your heat. Your whimpers and groans became more and more labored, an all too familiar creeping sensation sliding up your legs and building in your belly with each movement of his mouth. Your heart began to pound and vision started to blur, arms tugging at the tie placed around your wrists as you felt your orgasm form.

“Oh fuck, fuck Javi. Right there baby, holy shit- fuck, I’m so close, I- I- Wa- wait, wait, what?” Only moments away from feeling pleasure rush though your body, you were left breathless and shocked to feel Javi jerk his mouth away, looking up at you with lust filled eyes and a satisfied grin, opposed to your confusion. “Javi, what? Baby, I was about to-”

“You don’t cum until I say so. Be a good girl and ask nicely and maybe I’ll let you. Try again.” Javi replied, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow at you, smug smirk still stretched across his face.

You could almost hear the gulp traveling down your throat as your jaw hung open, your breathing heavy and low, watching Javi watch you, patiently waiting for you to follow his request. “Please let me cum, Javi. Please baby, please, I need you to make me cum so badly.”

“That’s more like it.”

Diving back between your legs, Javi drank you up, his tongue quickly accompanied by two of his thick fingers, easily pushing into your entrance and bumping the soft, spongy spot inside you. You could feel your pussy begin to flutter, already so close before Javi had left you on edge, now finding yourself even closer with his fingers curled deliciously in your hilt. Again, the coil in your belly began to tighten, Javi’s fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you down on the bed.

“Fuck, Javi. Don’t stop. Please, baby, please- shit- please let me cum, I’m so close, I’m so clo-ahhhhhhh.” Relief and euphoria flooded through your veins as your orgasm crashed over you, expletives and Javi’s name rolling off your tongue as you reached your high. But instead of letting you come back down, Javi’s mouth stayed pressed against your cunt, his hand still thrusting in and out of your heat as you clenched around his fingers, now realizing he wasn’t about to ease up any time soon.

You could feel your legs trembling as Javi relentlessly licked and sucked, his fingers fucking into at an unforgiving pace, making your moans and whimpers even louder as squirmed, desprate to grab on to something while your hands fought against the buttery softness of his tie wrapped around your wrists. Already so worked up, it didn’t take you long to feel your second orgasm building, making you cum even harder than you had just moments ago, crying out as you gushed again around Javi’s fingers, the sweet sensation almost becoming too much with how feverishly he had been working to make you cum again. Finally, Javi detached his mouth, his chin and mustache glistening with your slick, a sly smile and lustful look in his eyes as his fingers stayed curled in your cunt, the lewd noises of your wetness coating the walls as he pushed against your g-spot. Your breath hitched, legs shaking as held you down with his free arm, draped across your stomach while you writhed under him.

“Baby, it’s so much, fuck- I don’t think I can cum again, please, I-”

“First you're begging me to let you cum, now you want me to stop? Don’t get to have it both ways, Osita.” Javi tutted, only intensifying the pace of his fingers curling inside you. “I’m making you cum as many times as I want, remember? You’re gonna give me one more on my fingers and then that pretty little pussy is gonna soak my cock while I fuck you, okay?” You were so worked up you could barely think straight, your clit still throbbing and cunt clenching around Javi’s hand, mind going blank as he hit the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “Answer me, baby. Tell me what you’re gonna do?”

It took every ounce of brain power to try and find any way to respond, your head nodding frantically while you babbled. “I’m gonna cum again, please, please I will.”

“That’s my good girl. God, you’re so fucking tight. Give me one more baby, I know you can. I can feel how close you are.” With only the lightest press of his thumb on your clit, you could feel yourself on the edge again, only needing a few more thrusts of his fingers before you were crying out again, tears welling in your eyes from how hard you came, every inch of your body feeling spent as Javi finally pulled out his hand, absolutely drenched in your arousal, bringing it to his mouth and sucking the juices clean, pridefully watching you sprawled out and spent on the bed. “Tastes so fucking sweet. Did so good for me, Hermosa.” He mewled, coming up to kiss you, the tangy taste of your arousal still lingering on his lips. “Bet that fucking asshole Paul could ever make you cum like that, huh? No one else gets to make you feel this good, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Jesus Christ, no. No one’s ever made me feel like you do. You make me feel so good, Javi.” Javi’s mouth caught your moans in his as he pinned your tied arms above your head, nipping at your neck as he used his free hand to begin to work at his jeans, quickly unbuckling his belt and shuffling his pants and boxers down his legs.

“Bet none of them could ever fuck you like I do either. Only your future husband gets to have you like this.” Javi freed his other hand, reaching over his back to tug his jersey over his head, leaving him just as bare as you. Grabbing your hips, Javi lifted you up, turning you over so your stomach lay flat on the bed with your arms splayed in front of you, guiding your lower half so you were on your knees, ass up on display for him. His hands kneaded at the soft flesh before reaching down to guide the tip of his painfully hard cock through your folds, collecting your slick as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Only one who gets to see that pretty pussy dripping just for me.” He smirked, headfully pushing his length deep inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out, digging his fingertips into your hips as he pulled you back towards him, the stretch and fullness making you whimper. “Only one who gets to fill you up like this.” Slowly pulling back, he watched the shine of your arousal covering his cock before slamming back into you, repeating his methodical strokes. “Only one who gets to fuck a baby into you.” He grinned, his pace now quickening, planting a smack of his hand against your ass cheek, massaging the red mark it had left. You whined into the pillow, very much loud enough for Javi to hear, knowing damn well he had a way with words that made you lose your mind. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Hermosa? Getting you pregnant, carrying our baby so everyone knows you’re fucking mine?”

“Yes, oh my god, fuck- yes.”

Javi was now pounding into you, his pace relentless as his length punched deep in your hilt, the angle he was fucking you letting you feel every inch of him splitting you open. Even with how full you felt, you couldn’t help but press your ass back into him, needing to feel all of him inside you. Reaching an arm underneath you, he thumbed at your clit, rubbing back and forth as his thrusts became more frantic and sloppy, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, fisting at the bedsheets in front of you, desperate to grip at something while your hands were bound.

“I know you’re close, Hermosa. Let go, baby. Cum all over cock before I fuck myself so deep inside you and fill you full of me.” You could feel your heart begin to race again, your vision going white with each frantic thrust, the coil in your belly tightening further and further, the sounds falling from your mouth almost borderline pornagraphic. For the fourth time tonight, the tingling in your legs and stomach had built to a breaking point, feeling your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave, cumming so hard it felt like your soul was leaving your body. Knowing you had reached your high, Javi found himself chasing his own, each thrust more frantic than the last, his thighs slapping against your ass relentlessly as his words fell incoherently from his lips.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Fuck, I’m close too. Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” With a loud groan, Javi came deep inside you, spilling every last drop, coating your warm walls with his spend. Even after he had finished, Javi stayed buried in your cunt, watching the mix of your spend drip down your legs before slumping into you, his chest resting on your back as you melted into the mattress beneath him. The two of you laid there for a moment, your breaths rising and falling in sync, finally breaking the ragged silence with a little laugh to yourself, causing Javi to finally pull out so he could get a better look at you. “What’s so funny, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, watching you roll over onto your back, revealing the blissed out grin stretched across your face.

“Javi… that was so fucking hot. Holy fuck. Where the hell did that come from?” You giggled, playfully poking at him as he laid down next to you, reaching over to untie your hands and pull you in to rest your head on his bare chest.

“It was okay? I don’t- I don’t know, I knew you told me Paul was a piece of shit, but seeing him treat you like that-It just set something off in me, I guess.” Javi sighed, almost reluctantly, gently stroking the ends of your hair as he held you, feeling a little embarrassed at how possessive he had gotten, knowing the perfectly capable and independent woman you were.

“Was it okay? Javi, I never want to see Paul again, ever in my fucking life. That being said, if I get to watch you sock him in the face and then have you fuck me like that…” Your voice trailed, sarcastically snickering, giving Javi a little nudge as the two of you laughed. “You’ve done a lot of very hot things since I’ve met you, Javier Peña, but I do think knocking Paul out without hesitation is pretty high on the list. I am a little sad I didn’t get a swing in, but we’ll call it good.”

“He fucking deserved it. No one gets to talk to you like that, ever. I know you don’t need me to protect you, and that you can handle things on your own, but I-”

“Baby, I know that you know. I appreciate you saying that. It doesn’t change the fact that watching you get all protective over me was really fucking hot.” You smirked, pressing you hand against his chest to push yourself up, meeting your lips with his, running your hands through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. “And also…” Your grin grew wider as you reached down on the bed, picking up Javi’s tie, gently swinging it in your hands, “looks like we’re gonna have to get you some more ties, huh?”

The two of you woke up the next morning, bodies intertwined together between the crisp hotel sheets, soft sunlight spilling into your window over the Dallas skyline. From the first night he had slept in your bed, you had come to learn there were few things in this world that you loved more than being wrapped in Javi’s arms, your sleepy bodies still warm and lazy as you curled closer between the sheets, feeling like there was no one else in that moment that existed besides the two of you.

While you and Javi had plenty of lazy mornings together, something about being away for the weekend had both of you relishing in the syrupy slowness of your Saturday morning- sweet and soft sex tangled between your sheets, a long, hot shower where Javi insisted on letting you relax while he washed your hair, followed by curling up in the obnoxiously fluffy hotel robes while the two of you dried off, watching Sports Center and planning out the rest of your day.

You had decided to spend your afternoon exploring downtown, starting off at a sandwich shop near your hotel, and while both of you agreed that your sandwiches were good, they were no Alejandro’s. You spent some time after at the Dallas Museum of Art, with equal time spent with you making sarcastic commentary about some of the more interesting paintings and sculptures, trying your best to make Javi laugh, and Javi admiring you admire the various pieces of art, thinking to himself that you were more beautiful than any picture or statue he could find inside.

After your tour through the museum, you and Javi meandered through some of the stores downtown, both of your favorites being the pastry shop with the most delicious cupcakes you had ever tasted in your entire life, and although you insisted you didn’t need to get any extras, Javi knew you well enough to know that you were going to want one later, and ordered two more to take back with you to the hotel.

Since last night’s dinner had been more causal to try and make sure you got to the game on time, you had agreed to pick somewhere nicer to try for dinner tonight and then go out to a bar or two after for some drinks. While you were already enough of a chronic overpacker, trying to decide on an outfit for tonight had taken up the majority of the real estate in your suitcase, your options now spread out across the bed as you stood wrapped in your towel post-shower, contemplating what to wear.

“You’ll look beautiful in anything, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, back pressed his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re sweet, Jav. I don’t know, I don’t wanna be too casual, but I don’t want to be too dressy either, can you just pick for me?” You sighed, gesturing to the variety of clothes piled on the mattress.

“You sure you want me to pick?” Javi grinned, placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder, giving you a little squeeze.

“Yes, I’m sure, but I’m already 99.9% sure I know which one you’re gonna choose.” You giggled, crossing your arms over your chest as Javi made his way towards the bed, looking through his choices before he picked up a strappy, mid length black dress, raising an eyebrow at you and passing it off in your direction with a boyish smirk on his face. “Vegas wins again, Peña.” Outstretching your arm, you took the dress from his hands, playfully rolling your eyes at your correct prediction.

“What, like you can blame me? You can pick out what I wear too, if you want. I’m gonna hop in the shower while you get ready and I’ll be out in a few.” Javi smiled, peppering ticklish kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you squeal and squirm to not even notice Javi’s hand reaching up to tug at your towel, making it drop to the floor and leaving you naked.

“JAVI!” You shouted, watching Javi shrug his shoulders in satisfaction, giving you a wink as he headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You shook your head, laughing to yourself as you threw the dress back on the bed, collecting your rejected outfits and tossing them back in your suitcase. You looked back over your shoulder, making sure the door was closed before pulling out the lingerie Javi had gotten you for Christmas that had been hidden underneath the rest of your clothes, quickly slipping it on to wear under your dress to surprise Javi with later. You shuffled on the dress that Javi had picked, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror before getting out the rest of your toiletries and makeup to finish getting ready.

You had finished with your makeup by the time Javi had gotten out of the shower, finding yourself in the middle of curling your hair as Javi stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping a white, fluffy towel around his waist, stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw you. “Fuck me…” He whispered under his breath, still just loud enough for you to hear him and turn your head in his direction, blushing over the awestruck look on his face. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, you’re so hot. I’m a lucky fucking man, god damn.” Javi smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you like a puppy with his chin resting in his hand.

“Well, someone did a good job picking out the outfit.” You giggled, biting down on your lip at his reflection in the mirror. “I picked out some stuff if you want to wear any of it.” You nodded over to the other side of the bed, where you had set out a dark wash pair of jeans and a black long sleeved button up shirt.

“Or…” Javi grinned, pushing himself off the edge of the bed to stand, grabbing a handful of your ass and resting his hands on your hips, “You can take your dress off and then we can both put clothes back on later.”

“Your offer is very tempting, but you made reservations for 7:30 and it’s 7:05, mister.” You sighed, turning around to face him, playfully poking his chest. “Believe me, there will be plenty of undressing when we get back. Now go get changed, ya goof.”

Somehow, the two of you both managed to have enough willpower to make it to your dinner reservation on time, you finding yourself to be just as bad as Javi after watching him put on the outfit you’d chosen. While the two of you knew the restaurant was much nicer than the one you had picked yesterday for dinner, you didn’t realize it was going to be this nice. Not that Laredo didn't have suitable restaurants, but to say they had anything fancy was a bit of a stretch, and to say they had anything this fancy would have been an outright lie. The restaurant was dimly lit, decorated with contemporary fixtures, soft music playing in the background, the waitstaff even dressed to the nines as you approached the hostess at the front booth.

“Hi, we should have a reservation for 2 at 7:30. Should be under Peña.” Javi smiled resting his hand on the small of your back under your jacket as the two watched the girl flip through her notebook looking for Javi’s name.

“Perfect, I have you right here. Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” She grinned, grabbing two menus and leading you through the restaurant. The grip of Javi’s hand on your back as you followed the hostess to your seats only tightened, hearing her accidental slip up. “Alright, we have you two sitting right here, and your waiter will be with you shortly!” Gesturing over to your table, your hostess set down the menus and was on her way, leaving Javi to immediately pull out your chair for you before setting into his.

“Thanks, Mr. Peña.” You giggled, gently tapping his leg with your foot under the table. “We’re two for two this weekend with strangers assuming we’re married. Not that I’m mad about it.”

“I feel like we are. I don’t know, I think of you as my wife already, I guess. I accidentally called you my wife at work the other week and the guys thought we got married without everyone knowing.” Javi shrugged, reaching across the table to grab your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the ring on your hand.

“We’ll call that one a happy accident. I think of you as my husband too, I don’t know, it kind of feels like we’re married, I guess it’s just a formality at this point. Only 4 more months.” You beamed, giving his hand a little squeeze before letting go to lift up the menu in front of you, your jaw dropping in shock as you read through the options. “Okay, I knew this place was gonna be nice, but 45 dollars for salmon? 60 for steak? Are they covered in gold dust and unicorn tears? I am many things, Javier Peña, but I am not worth a 60 dollar steak, let me tell you that.” You grimaced, now looking through the drink section, mumbling to yourself. “God, do they even have beer here?” Javi laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his own menu, browsing through his options.

“Shut up, you dork. You’re more than worth a 60 dollar steak. Don’t worry about it, okay? You deserve to be taken to nice places like this, whether you agree with me or not. But my guess is no, that they are probably not serving Miller Lite here.”

Despite your sticker shock for food prices, you and Javi had a great rest of your dinner, chatting about wedding and house planning, favorite things about your trip so far, and somehow ending in an argument about the best Star Wars movie after the two of you had a few drinks each in you. Knowing you wanted to go out to a bar or two after dinner, but having no idea where to go, you asked the waitress for her suggestions at favorite places, recommending a bar a block down the street, telling you it was one of the most popular places downtown at the moment. Given her rave review, you and Javi decided to give it a try, tipsily making your way down the street, still continuing your Star Wars argument the entire trip there.

As you entered the bar, you were greeted with the overwhelming sound of loud, upbeat music blasting through the speakers on the dance floor and bright, flashing lights dancing above the crowd in the dark and packed room. “I guess she wasn’t kidding when she said this place was popular.” You half yelled in Javi’s ear, gesturing out to the crowd in front of you, neither of you realizing the atmosphere of the bar was a bit more club-like than either of you had expected. “I don’t think I’ve been to a place like this since college.”

Javi��s grip tightened around your waist as several patrons brushed past you, drunkenly shouting along to the song playing over your voices. “We can go somewhere else if you want to, we don’t have to stay here, Hermosa.”

“I don’t know, it looks like it could be fun. Looks like there’s a lot of people dancing,” you smirked, pointing over to the dance floor, “you really gonna pass up a chance to grind on me in public, Jav? I sure hope that answer isn’t no.” Taking a step back, you subtly pressed your ass into Javi’s crotch, making him let out a quiet groan before pulling away, turning around to face toward him and give him a little shrug.

“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, an equally intrigued smirk spreading across his face as he looked down at you. “No way in hell I’m gonna say no to that, Hermosa.”

“Then get a girl a drink and take me dancing, Peña.” Grabbing Javi’s hand, you tugged him towards the bar, following eagerly behind you through the crowd. Javi ordered both your drinks from one of the bartenders- a woman who seemed to spend a little to long for your liking touching Javi’s arm to get his attention when his whiskey and your gin and tonic were ready, flashing him a cute smile as Javi handed over the cash from his wallet to pay for your drinks. If you were any taller and able to see over the heads of the people standing in front of you at the bar, you really hoped she would have seen the scowl drawn across your face as you watched her try to flirt with Javi. Javi, seemingly oblivious to the interaction, handed your drink off to you as the two of you made your way to an empty booth on the side of the dance floor, taking a hefty sip before looking back up at Javi. “She seemed nice.” You grimaced, nodding back over towards the bar. Javi laughed, taking a sip of his own drink before setting it down on the table, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Is someone jealous?”

“No… She was just giving you the eyes, and held your arm way longer than I’m sure the average bartender does. I mean, she’s got good taste…” You grumbled, trying your best not to glare back over at the bar. Downing the rest of his drink in a large gulp, he slid his empty drink to the side, reaching out to grab your hand, squeezing it in his. He bit down on his lip, a lustful look pooling in his eyes as he watched you take another sip.

“Why don’t you finish your drink and we’ll go give her something to be jealous of, hm?”

Your eyes went wide at his response, slurping down the rest of your gin and tonic way faster than you probably should have before setting your empty cup next to his, walking around to the opposite side of the booth where Javi sat, grabbing two fist fulls of his shirt while you pulled him in for a long, tender kiss. “I like the sound of that.”

Intertwining hands, you worked your way out to the dance floor, tangled between humid, hot bodies and the thumping of the bass to whatever upbeat pop song was blasting in the background in time with the flashing colorful lights beaming across the crowd. From the moment you found yourself deep enough in the mix of people, Javi’s hands were instantly all over you, working their way down your sides and landing on your hips, digging his fingertips into the fabric of your dress to turn you around so your ass was pressed against his jeans, grinding into the denim. At this point, the both of you had enough alcohol in your systems to not be concerned about anyone else around you, your hips rocking to the rhythm of the music, pressing your ass further into Javi’s crotch with each sway, only forcing his grip to tighten, feeling his bulge beginning to grow in his pants. Playing into the sensation building between both of you, you brought one of your arms up, reaching up to grab the hair at the nape of Javi’s neck, his curls feeling more defined from the sweat radiating off the dance floor. You could feel his head buried in your shoulder, feeling his hot breath against the sheen of your skin.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy, Osita. Feel what you do to me, baby? Bet if I reached down and felt that pretty little pussy she’d be dripping for me, too.” Javi rasped, letting his hands slide down your hips towards the front of your thighs. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you that had lowered your inhibitions so much- maybe it was the one too many gin and tonics, maybe it was the heat of the crowd moving to the music, maybe it was feeling how hard Javi was pressed against your ass just from dancing. Whatever it was, it was enough to have you turning around, throwing your arms around Javi’s shoulders, pressing up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

“Touch me and find out.”

Your preposition had Javi’s jaw practically dropping to the floor, taking a moment to compose himself before looking back down at you to make sure he hadn’t misheard what you had said, but the lustful grin between your cheeks was all he needed to know he had heard you loud and clear. With one hand on your ass, the other snaked between your bodies, tugging up the hem of your dress, his palm gliding across the soft skin of your inner thighs before cupping your pussy, wetness pooling in the lacy fabric of your underwear, making his eyes grow even wider, not only from how wet you were, but from the feeling of his fingers grazing over your panties, knowing the texture meant you were wearing something out of the usual rotation, something you’d worn on purpose to get his attention.

“Fucking soaked, sweet girl. Gonna let me take you back to our room and let me ruin those pretty panties even more? What’re you wearing under there, baby?”

“Why don’t you take me back and see.”

Yesterday, you were convinced you couldn’t have walked any faster back to your hotel room after the hockey game, but the pace at which you and Javi were speeding down the sidewalk had you questioning if your speed could even qualify as walking, not sprinting. Unlike your luck yesterday, you shared your elevator ride back up to your room with 2 other strangers, making the tension of your trip up to your floor almost palpable as you used every ounce of restraint from pouncing on Javi right there in the elevator.

As soon as the door sprung open and no one was behind you, the two of you crashed down the hallway, once again fumbling with to find your room key, the added element of your tipsiness only making it more difficult. One way or another, your door unlocked, your bodies dancing in a tangled mess towards the bed, pausing for a moment as Javi’s open suitcase caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Your brain spun for a moment, reeling with the memories of last night, a looming question now racing in your mind as you spotted Javi’s blue and gold tie peeking out of his bag.

Would Javi let you tie him up?

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi asked, cocking his head in confusion as he watched you stare at his suitcase. You could see the wheels in his head turning, a lightbulb going off after a few moments, grabbing your chin and tilting it up towards him. “You want me to tie you up again, sweet girl?” He smirked, his voice low and gruff as he gripped around your jaw. Gently, you began shaking your head, Javi’s face immediately dropping in confusion, letting go of his grasp.

“What if I told you…” You paused, grabbing his shirt and walking towards the bed, “I wanted to tell you what to do. See if you can be a good boy for me or maybe I’ll have to tie you up, too.” Giving Javi a little nudge, you pushed him to sit down on the bed, leaving you standing in front of him, rubbing your hands up and down the denim covering his thighs, watching your words go straight to his cock as his bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a breathy moan escaped out of his mouth. Javi’s eyes went wide, jaw agape as his tongue darted out between his lips as you threw your leg over his lap, straddling his hips.

“Is that okay?” You whispered, nipping at his ear, making him let out a low groan. He nodded softly in silent reassurance, almost too stunned to speak, slowly working his hands up your ass and thighs, trying to push up the hem of your dress. Grabbing his wrists, you stopped him in his tracks, pulling back slightly with a playfully scolding look on your face. “Nuh uh. I didn’t get to touch last time, you don’t get to touch me until I say.”

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered under his breath, carefully drawing his hands back to rest on the edge of the bed, his eyes desperately filling with need and want. Reaching down, you tugged your dress over your head, revealing the cute, red and lacy lingerie set Javi had gotten you for Christmas. As if Javi’s jaw couldn’t have dropped any further, it was now practically through the floor, finding himself absolutely gawking at you in admiration. “Holy fuck.” Javi gulped, trying his best to keep any ounce of composure he still had. He couldn’t help but spring his hands towards you, running them up and down your sides and over the delicate fabric, left with utter shock and disappointment as you swung off his lap, standing at the edge of the bed with your arms crossed over your chest.

“What did I just say, baby? Only good boys get to touch, remember?” A devilish smirk spread across your lips watching how flustered Javi had already become, biting down on his finger to try and relieve some of the tension of not being able to touch you.

“I’ll be good, baby. I promise.” He groaned helplessly, staring up at you with pleading eyes.

“I don’t know, Javi, seems like you’re having a hard time with pretty simple instructions.” You tutted, very purposefully bending down with your ass in his face to pick up the tie dangling from his suitcase. “Guess we’ll try one more time to see if you remember, but if you can’t, maybe this will help.”

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?” Javi rasped, shaking his head, running his hand over his face.

“You’re a big boy, you’ll be okay.” You winked, tossing his tie next to him before going back to straddling his lap, running your hands up and down his chest, slowly working your way down his shirt, one button at a time, planting a hot kiss on his skin with each new button that came undone. “Promise you’re gonna be good?” You smirked, tugging the shirt off his arms and letting it fall on the bed.

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.

“Good.” You began grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you turned around, back pressed to his chest, sitting in his lap. You continued grinding your ass into Javi’s crotch, gently tugging at the straps of your bra and letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further. Slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor in front of you, leaving Javi still only able to see your bare back knowing how crazy it would drive him that he couldn’t even see what he was missing, let alone touch. Still facing away, you bent down, sticking your ass towards his face, slowly shimmying the lacy red thong down your legs and letting it pool around your ankles. That was what broke him, his fingers digging into the plump skin making you shoot up and turn back around towards him.

Reaching next to him on the bed, you picked up his tie in one hand, grabbing his wrists with the other, and gently began wrapping the buttery fabric around him. “So much for that, huh? Naughty boys have to learn to follow the rules, don’t they, baby?” You playfully pouted, batting your eyes at him. Good thing I can help teach you, hmmm?” With his hands sufficiently tied, you took your finger, poking his chest and pushing him over, gesturing for him to shuffle further up on to the bed, now laying flat on his back with his hands above his head.

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his jeans down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had stained his boxers. “God, you’ve got the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” You mewled, barely grazing your fingertips over his bare thighs, making him shutter.

“Osita, please. Please, baby. I need you to touch me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft.

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the slick that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him.

With a few pumps of your hand, you leaned over, letting the spit from your mouth drip down over his dick before bending your head down and letting your tongue graze his head. Your lips sucked around his tip, lazily working your way down his length, taking him inch by inch as you hollowed out your cheeks, nestling your nose in the curls of his hairs at his base, the musky scent of him filling your nose. You began bobbing your head, your mouth engulfing him with each rise and fall, looking up at him through heavy lashes, your eyes almost as wide as his as you watched him crumble under your touch.

“Fuck, oh shit- Oh my god. Fuck, that feels so good baby, Jesus- fuck me.” Javi squeezed his eyes shut, his ramblings becoming more ragged and desperate with each word, almost embarrassed at how quickly he found himself feeling like he was going to fall apart. You could feel his cock beginning to pulse in the warmth of your mouth, only making you pick up your pace, feeling the saliva drool down the corners of your cheeks and tears welling in the corners of your eyes. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck- I’m close, I’m clo- wa- wait, fuck. Fuck, baby, no. Please.” Javi whined, his head popping up to look at you, your mouth hovering above his dick with a smirk on your face.

“What?” You teased, gently massaging his sack in your hands, almost able to see the veins in his cock throbbing as you had left him on edge, unable to finish. “You only said you needed me to touch you. Never said anything about needing me to make you cum.”

“Jesus Christ…” Javi groaned, resting his head back on the pillows behind him, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Letting out another gulp and deep breath, he raised his head again, his big, brown eyes pleading with you with a ferocious need and longing. “Please, Osita. Please, make me cum. Please, I need you to.”

“That’s more like it. Such a good boy, asking so nicely. I’ll let you cum, baby. But only if it’s inside me and you fill me up so good you’re dripping down my thighs.” You shuffled your body forward, letting your soaking heat graze over his cock, reaching down to line him up with your entrance.

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.” Javi moaned, struggling against the silk tie wrapped around his wrists, giving anything to feel the soft skin of your body in his hands.

“So needy, sweet boy.” You tutted, the both of you gasping as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. No one else fills me up like you do. You like knowing you’re the only one who can make me feel like this? The only one I want to fuck me? Marry me? Fuck as many babies as you want into me?”

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. “Fuck yes, oh fuck Osita. Shit- I can’t wait to marry you. I wanna be your husband. I wanna fuck a baby into you so badly, see you all beautiful and pregnant. I can’t wait to cum inside you knowing I could really knock you up. Fuck meeee.” Javi whimpered, bucking his hips up into you, his thrusts filling you in a way that had you absolutely reeling and breathless, your demeanor quickly beginning to crumble, becoming just as dire as him.

The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly. You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your hotel room as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.”

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.”

In all the times you had fucked, you had never seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had walked through the doors of your hotel room, and god, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You thought that you’d be strong enough to keep your composure, that while Javi fell apart, you would keep it together, but any prospects of that were long gone by now.

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as he quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside you, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth. With a few more deep breaths, you unstraddled Javi, the loss of him inside you making the both of you hiss, crawling up the bed to untie his hands and lay your head on him as he wrapped his newly freed arms around you.

“Holy fuck…” Javi muttered under his breath, half laughing to himself as he ran his hand over his face before bringing it back down to stroke circles along the bare skin of your back.

“Was that okay?” You questioned, almost timidly, looking up at his blissed out face.

“Osita… Jesus Christ, that was fucking incredible. You’re sexy when you’re bossy.” He teased, tickling your ribs, making you squeal and squirm under his touch, peppering you with soft kisses while you swatted at him to make him stop.

“Oh shut up, you dork.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at him, laying your head back down on his chest after finally getting him to torture you with his tickles.

“I’m being serious, Hermosa. You know I think your confidence is so fucking sexy. You can boss me around any time.”

“Any time?” You perked up, mischievous look glistening in your eyes. “So… if I told you to go get me that cupcake from earlier and bring it to me, you’d do it?”

“I thought you said you didn’t need another one, bossy pants.” Javi smirked, staring back at you in complete and utter adoration.

“Well, Javier Jesús Peña, turns out you know me better than I know myself. Sooooo… cupcake? Please?” You playfully pouted, batting your lashes at him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss into your messy hair before letting out a sigh as he pushed himself out of the bed, nakedly wandering over to the shelf by your door where he had stashed the cupcakes earlier, bringing them over and climbing back into bed with you.

“Thank you, you’re the best.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge as you took a big bite of the cupcake, letting out a content sigh. “On another positive note, I definitely think that we’ve given this hotel room a run for its money before we break in our one on the honeymoon in a few months.”

“Well…” Javi grinned, gently kissing at your neck, up along your jawline, rubbing his hand up your thigh and circling his fingertips at the soft flesh, “A little extra practice never hurt anyone.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd

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floralcyanide · 1 year

Text

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 ✲ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

Virgin!Charlie Walker x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

You go to your friend's party not expecting much from it. Except, while there, you run into Charlie, a guy you've known all your life but have never got to know. One of his secrets is revealed, much to his embarrassment. You go to comfort him, and one thing leads to another. (both Charlie and reader are 18+.)

warnings: smut, nsfw, loss of virginity, mentions of virginity, penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nipple/breast play, hair pulling, overstimulation, mentions of alcohol, drinking alcohol, reader is kinda experienced but just barely, afab!reader, descriptions of female anatomy, Charlie and reader are 18+

word count: 4890 (I'm,,,, yeah)

author's note: hello I cannot believe I typed most of this out today. I was possessed by the writing demon fr. I also can't believe it's as long as it is but ya know,,, I gotta give y'all the Charlie smut you wanted. so here it is. if you enjoy, please reblog/ like (:

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

Playing truth or dare wasn’t on your list of things to do tonight at this party, but it may as well happen.

You’re sitting criss cross on the floor of the living room, your back pressed against the front of the couch. Your best friend decided throwing one of their iconic parties before Spring Break would be fun, and they begged you to attend. And, of course, you couldn’t say no to them. So here you are in their living room with a Smirnoff Ice in your hand, waiting for someone to spin the bottle on the floor again. It only landed on you twice, and you picked truth both times. The questions were relatively tame, but the drunker everyone in the circle got and the more people who joined, the rowdier it got. You notice a guy you went to primary school with sitting across from you, with his forearm casually resting on his knee as he sips a beer with his free hand. He pretended to be looking elsewhere whenever a sexual question was brought up. Good old Charlie, the quiet and polite kid who was always good at math and oddly enough, film class. You two had been in school together since Kindergarten, and now you’re in university together and have yet to really talk. Sure, you’ve run into him at some places or have seen him around campus, chatting with him here and there, but nothing has ever broken the surface. You’ve yet to have a meaningful conversation with him. Both of you were partners in science class during your junior year of high school, but you weren’t close by any means. You push away your thoughts when you realize the bottle has now landed on you.

You take a large swig of your drink, “Oh boy.”

Luckily, your best friend is the one who spun the bottle. You hope whatever challenge or question they shoot at you will be tolerable.

“Alright, Y/N. Truth or dare?”

“Hmm,” you think about this one momentarily and decide on a whim, “Dare.”

Your best friend eyes your still fairly full drink, “You just got iced! I dare you to chug the rest of your drink.”

Getting “iced” means if someone sees you holding a Smirnoff Ice, they can “ice” you by saying you have to chug the rest of your drink no matter how full it is. It’s a trend around campus, and it annoys you to no end as you drink Smirnoff Ice sometimes.

You roll your eyes and sigh, “Fine.”

Taking a deep breath, you begin chugging your drink. Thank god it’s your favorite flavor and not something stronger. Everyone is chanting for you to chug, and you do, trying not to laugh at how embarrassing it is to have all these people watching you. Some of the alcohol dribbles down your chin when you finish the rest of the bottle. The circle cheers, and the people next to you pat you on the back while everyone else gives a thumbs up. You feel a little rush to your head as you carefully place your hand on the bottle in the middle of the group, prepared to spin it. Once it lands, it lands on your other friend Kirby. You’re somewhat surprised she’s even playing truth or dare with you all, but you weren’t going to stop her.

“Truth or dare, Kirb?”

“Dare, of course,” Kirby smiles deviously, a little tipsy from whatever is in her solo cup.

“I dare you to kiss someone in the circle. It can be anyone,” you say after pondering for a moment.

It was a mild dare compared to some of the ones people have created in the group. Someone dared one girl to take off her shirt, and someone else dared your best friend to shotgun from the guy next to them. Now your best friend was buzzed on not only alcohol but some weed as well. So you’re somewhat shocked they didn’t choose a wilder dare for you to do.

Kirby looks surprised you’d choose a dare that consisted of anything intimate, but she shrugs it off before leaning toward Jill. You’re also surprised Jill is in the circle, but she claimed she just wanted to watch people embarrass themselves. Until the bottle landed on her for the first time, now, she’s slightly drunk and in the game. She and Kirby kiss for a few seconds, but you doubt it’s the first time they’ve done so. Kirby pulls away as some guys holler at the sight. She flips them off before spinning the bottle. This time, it lands on Charlie. A part of you fears for him because Kirby can be unpredictable.

“Truth or dare, Charlie?” Kirby asks, tapping her chin excitedly.

“Uh,” Charlie furrows his eyebrows, “Truth?”

Kirby grins like she had been hoping he’d choose truth, “When was the last time you got blown?”

“Blown?” Charlie asks, a little confused.

“Yeah. Blown. Like, a blowjob. When was the last time you got one of those, Charlie?” Kirby asks seriously, and everyone is paying close attention to what Charlie is about to say.

“Oh. I don’t know? I’ve never really,” Charlie clears his throat, “I’ve never really done anything like that.”

“Really?” Kirby asks, shocked, and a few people giggle.

“How about you ask a different question?” Charlie says, shifting around nervously.

“Okay. Are you a virgin?”

More people in the circle laugh, and everyone looks directly at Charlie, making his face go red as he curls into himself.

“That’s enough, Kirb,” you say gently, your eyes flickering between her and Charlie, “Maybe ask something not sexual in nature?”

“Right. Sorry,” Kirby cringes, but Charlie is already moving to get up from where he’s sitting.

You go to say something to him as he steps around you to walk to the kitchen, but he moves too fast.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Kirby, I know you like making Charlie squirm, but that was uncalled for.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t know he was a virgin,” Kirby frowns, staring into her drink.

“Maybe you should apologize,” you say, “I’ll go talk to him first and make sure he’s okay.”

“That’s a good idea,” your best friend nods.

You stand up and try to collect yourself for a moment as the alcohol makes your head swim. That Smirnoff was your third tonight, and you can tell that chugging it was a bad idea. But your vision clears, and you begin to walk to the kitchen. There are a few people crowded in there, talking and drinking. But no sight of Charlie. You wander to the patio and spot him sitting on the porch swing outside. You quietly open the sliding door and shut it behind you, walking toward the swing.

“Hey,” you say, almost inaudible as you sit down next to Charlie.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly, tucking hair behind his ear as his eyes burn into his thighs.

“Are you okay? Sometimes Kirby doesn’t know when to shut up,” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at your friend’s behavior.

“I’m fine. It’s just not something I wanted everyone to know,” Charlie chuckles lightly.

“I understand. If it helps, I didn’t lose my virginity in high school like everyone, either. But I’m glad I waited until adulthood if that makes sense,” you say, trying to relate to Charlie a little.

You were in your sophomore year of college when you had your first serious partner, which led to you, of course, having sex. You were about to be 21, and felt like you had waited forever by that point. But the peer pressure and movies made sex seem totally different from what it actually was. But you were glad that you waited until you were more mature. Not everyone does, and you think that’s okay, just as long as there was consent.

“Really? You didn’t lose it in high school?” Charlie finally turns to you, his face twisted into confusion.

“I was about twenty on twenty-one. Not long ago, but yeah,” you shrug, pushing your legs so that the swing moves slightly backward, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be- the sex stuff. Honestly it’s nothing like porn, tv, or the movies. It’s awkward and silly and sometimes uncomfortable.”

Charlie nods slowly, “What is like, then? For someone with female anatomy, anyway.”

“If you're, you know, prepared, it doesn’t hurt. It’s like a feeling of fullness and then when they find the g spot with their fingers or whatever, it’s even better,” you feel your face burning at the thought of it all.

“G spot?”

You dare to look Charlie in the eye, “Yeah it’s a spot inside the vagina that gives you pleasure when it’s caressed or pushed into,” you give him an awkward smile.

“Oh,” Charlie laughs, “Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable or anything. I just don’t know much. I mean I know the basics, but,” he trails off, looking at your lips for a moment before tearing his eyes away.

“Basics, hmm?” you lean in toward Charlie, letting your knee touch his as you push the swing with your feet, moving it backward again, “What would those be?”

“Like where to touch someone kind of? I mean I’ve seen videos but none of that is real,” Charlie says, his face now slightly red.

The alcohol still burns in your veins, making your brain feel happily cloudy and a little braver than usual.

“And where would you touch someone?” you ask, now letting your thigh completely press against Charlie’s, your bodies now closer in proximity.

Charlie lets his shoulder touch yours, “Well, I know some people like being kissed on their ears,” he turns to you again, tucking some hair behind your ear softly.

“Yes,” you nod, slowly reaching your hand up to the ends of Charlie’s hair, “What about here, Charlie? Know anything about hair and what you can do with it?”

Charlie hesitates, “You can pull hair because some people like that.”

“Do you like it Charlie?” you look up and notice how close your faces are to one another, letting your eyes dart from his lips to his eyes.

“I don’t know, really. I feel like I would,” Charlie nods, trying his best not to stutter as he stares at your lips blatantly.

You let go of Charlie’s hair before sliding a cautious hand through his front bangs and letting your fingers root to his scalp. His breath hitches at the feeling of your touch.

“I feel like I definitely would,” Charlie repeats, clearing his throat as he lets his hand rest on your knee, “Is this okay?”

You chuckle, “Yes. Is it okay that I’m touching your hair?”

“Absolutely,” Charlie answers quickly.

“Do you want to see what it feels like to have it pulled a little?” you ask, your eyes landing on his lips once again.

They look so kissable and biteable. You always have thought Charlie was fairly cute, but never really gave it much thought or acted on it, until now. After all, you’re both a little tipsy and this is a college party you’re at. Why not have a little fun?

“Yes,” Charlie says, closing his eyes and letting his lips finally brush against yours.

You capture his lips with yours softly, lifting your free hand to rest upon Charlie’s jaw. His hand on your knee travels up your thigh until it’s on your hip, squeezing lightly as you deepen the kiss. Charlie places his other hand behind your head, pushing you closer to him as you run your tongue along his bottom lip. He lets you in, letting you take total control of the kiss. Charlie knows how to kiss, and he can kiss well, but he’d rather let you do whatever you wanted. If he’s honest, he would let you do anything to him, and he’s always felt this way. And that weird classmate crush he’s had on you is blossoming further with every second that passes as you kiss.

Swirling your tongue around Charlie’s, you wait for the perfect moment to tug at his hair. The kiss is growing into a sloppy makeout and you can tell Charlie is getting turned on, You bite at his lip, tugging on it as he lets out a small moan. When he does this, you decide to pull on his hair a little, causing his moan to grow louder.

You pull away from the kiss, trying not to laugh, “Are you okay?”

“I’m- I’m fine,” Charlie whispers, his lips are swollen and red and his pupils are slightly larger than before.

“You sure?” you ask, your hand still on his face as your thumb traces along his jawline, “I know somewhere we can go that’s more private if no one is already in there.”

“Like where?” Charlie asks.

“My best friend has a guest room I usually camp out in when I stay over,” you say, standing up from the swing, offering a hand out to Charlie, “Care to join?”

Charlie looks at you, then your hand, before taking it, “Lead the way.”

You hold his hand until you get to the sliding door, “I’ll go first, so watch which direction I head to when I get up the stairs. Then whenever you’re ready, come on up.”

“Okay,” Charlie nods, fighting a giddy smile.

“Is everything okay?” your best friend approaches you immediately once you and Charlie walk through the door.

“Yep. We’re all good,” you say.

“Most of the party is gone. You can stay here if you’d like,” your best friend says, looking between you and Charlie nonchalantly.

“Cool. I think I’ll head upstairs, then. Charlie and I are still talking, so,” you trail off, “Don’t mind us.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” your best friend winks.

“Yeah, that isn’t very much though,” you joke with them before dragging Charlie upstairs and not bothering to sneak him in.

Once both of you are upstairs and in the room, you shut the door and lock it before turning on the bedside lamp. Charlie sits on the bed, his hands clasped together nervously. You walk over to him, shedding your jacket and tossing it to the end of the bed. Standing directly in front of him, his knees touching yours, you card your hand through his hair again. Charlie’s eyes flutter shut and you climb onto his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“So do you like having your hair pulled now?” you ask, and Charlie looks so nervous that he’s gonna burst.

“Can you remind me of how it feels?” Charlie looks up at you, innocence flashing in his eyes.

You pull Charlie’s hair enough to where his head moves back, exposing his neck to you. He hums in content and you can’t help but start kissing along the side of his throat. You nip a little at his skin, running your tongue over the places you sink your teeth. Enough for him to feel it, but not enough to leave a mark. You squeeze your fingers into an open fist, pulling Charlie’s hair at a different angle. Just as he’s about to let out a noise, you move the top of his shirt down and bite down below his collarbone, sucking at the skin until it’s red. Charlie then lets out an actual moan, which makes your stomach turn.

“Feel good?” you ask, moving your hand from his hair and to his hip, sliding it up his shirt.

“Yes,” Charlie sighs, “Very.”

“Do you want to keep going? We don’t have to if you don’t want-”

“I do. I want to keep going.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret your first time,” you say.

“I won’t regret it, especially if it’s with you,” Charlie blushes.

A smile grows on your face, “Really? And you aren’t saying that just to get in my pants?”

“No,” Charlie chuckles, “I”m not just saying it to get in your pants. I like you.”

“Well in that case,” you slide your other hand under Charlie’s shirt, “Where else do you know to touch someone, Charlie?”

Charlie shifts underneath you, unsure what to do with his hands, “Um. Here?” he asks, slowly placing his hands on your thighs and gripping them slightly.

“Yes, good. Where else?”

You’re slowly trailing your fingers up and down Charlie’s torso, sending goosebumps all over his skin as he struggles to speak properly.

“Here,” is all he can choke out, running his shaky hands along your hips and waist.

“Uh-huh,” you slip your hands from under Charlie’s shirt and put them on top of his, “Want me to guide you or do you think you’ve got it?”

“You can guide me if you want to,” Charlie says, biting his lip.

You grab Charlie’s hands and move them under your shirt to your covered breasts, “Sprawl out your fingers and squeeze with them.”

Charlie does as told, and he does it perfectly. It’s probably the most simple way you can touch someone, though. But you don’t mind.

“You can squeeze them all you want either under my shirt or without my shirt,” you run your fingers through the hair on the side of Charlie’s head.

You let go of Charlie’s hands, letting him do as he pleased. He squeezes at your breasts, moving his hands in different ways to elicit moans from you. Before Charlie can decide, you go ahead and strip off your shirt and your binder/bra. Your nipples harden at the sudden exposure to cooler air and Charlie stares at them, unsure of what to do next.

“What do you want to do with them, Charlie? You can suck them, bite them, pull them, whatever you want,” you say, leaning in closer to Charlie’s face.

“Can I do both?” Charlie asks.

“At the same time or?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yes. You can do one thing to one while you do something else to the other if that’s what you want to do.”

Charlie slowly takes one of your nipples into his mouth, experimentally licking at it while rubbing circles on your other. The sensual movements of Charlie’s finger and tongue cause you to moan softly. You continue to card your fingers through his hair as he moves his tongue and finger a little faster than before. He then pulls away from your nipple, a string of saliva still connecting it to his mouth. Charlie then moves to the other nipple and flicks his tongue against it without sucking it between his lips. He heistantly pinches the nipple he just had his mouth on, his spit adding the perfect amount of lubrication. Your hips involuntarily buck forward at the feeling of Charlie’s tongue lapping at the sensitive bud. He then fully takes it into his mouth, lightly running his teeth around it. Charlie holds back a smirk at the high pitched noise you let out at the sensation of teeth. He decides to try holding your nipple with his teeth and then licking it at the same time, just to see how you react. Your hand that’s in Charlie’s hair suddenly grips the dirty blonde locks harshly, and Charlie moans around you, adding vibration to the mix. So you pull his hair again. You feel him grow a tad harder underneath you.

“You like that, don’t you Charlie?” you bite your lip as he looks up at you through his eyelashes, suckling at your breast.

“I do,” he sighs contently, moving back to your left breast and pinching it lightly before massaging you again.

“Do you know where else to touch?” you ask, becoming a little needy at this point.

Charlie’s mouth was so good you can’t possibly imagine how it feels elsewhere. And his long fingers? Why didn’t you think of this sooner?

Charlie looks incredibly nervous now as he moves his hands to your upper thighs.

“Just remember that you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” you say gently.

“I want to touch you and make you feel good,” Charlie says, shakily unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans.

“Let me lay down so it’s not as awkward for both of us,” you say, climbing off of Charlie’s lap and onto the bed, “I trust that you know kinda what to do, but take your time. If you need help don’t hesitate to ask.”

Charlie nods, nestling himself between your legs, resting on his stomach and elbows. You push your pants and underwear down your thighs, letting Charlie pull them down the rest of the way. When your clothes are pushed off your feet, Charlie returns to his position and his eyes grow large at the sight of your bare pussy. He’s breathless as he slowly runs a curious finger up your glistening slit, causing you to gasp. He does the movement again, this time applying some more pressure. Charlie is amazed at how wet you are from him playing with your breasts, but he figures you’re probably into that. He knows that when someone is wet, they feel good, so seeing how soaked you are for him makes his confidence skyrocket. You spread your legs further apart, letting Charlie get a full view. He runs his finger over what he thinks may be your clit, but he’s not too sure.

“Move your finger up and you’ll feel it,” you grab Charlie’s hand and guide it upward just a little.

The tip of his finger brushes against the correct spot and you hum in approval, “Right there.”

Charlie circles your clit with his finger slowly, almost tantalizing, “Like this?”

“Just like that,” you say weakly, “God, you’re getting me so wet.”

Charlie leans in and kisses your inner thighs, wanting to bury his face in your arousal, but only with your permission.

You sense his hesitation, “You can lick it if you want. You can do anything you’re comfortable with, Charlie. I promise.”

Charlie gives your clit a tentative lick, and for a moment his licking isn’t pressured enough.

“You can lick harder, you won’t hurt me,” you said brushing some hair from Charlie’s face.

“Okay,” Charlie breathes out, licking from bottom to top in one long stripe, gathering your wetness on his tongue. He figures it’d feel good to you if he had some lubrication on your clit while licking it. And he’s right. As he swirls his tongue around your bundle of nerves, you swivel your hips to the same rhythm.

“Fuck, Charlie,” you whimper, “Do you want to finger me?”

Charlie nods vigorously, his mouth not leaving you as he continues to lick you up, down, and all around. He was messy with it, but it still felt good to you. You take one of his hands that are gripping your thighs, pressing all his fingers down except the index one, and flipping his palm upward.

“All you have to do is find my entrance and push it in slowly until you’re fully inside, then you can bend it, twist it, or whatever you wanna do with it. When you think I’m ready, you can add a second one.”

Charlie nods wordlessly as he pulls his mouth off you, focusing on gathering the mixture of spit and slick before prodding at you and finding your entrance. He pushes his finger in as slowly as he can, watching you writhe underneath him. Charlie has his finger completely inside of you, and he experimentally curls it upward a little. The tip of his finger touches something spongy.

“Oh god right there,” you gasp, “You found it on the first try holy shit.”

“Found what?” Charlie leans down to play with your clit with his tongue again, curling his finger more forcefully.

“Fuck,” you sigh, throwing your head back momentarily, “Your finger is just the right length to get to my g spot. Keep rubbing it.”

Charlie wonders if licking in circles at the same time he circles his finger would cause a reaction. So he does, and you cry out.

“Keep going,” you say, letting your head relax against the pillows as it feels heavier with each stroke of Charlie’s finger.

He can feel you throb around his finger, and he slides it out before sliding it back in and hitting that spot. You thrust your hips in response, wishing Charlie would add a second finger. He decides now is the perfect time to see if two will fit. And his middle finger easily slides in next to his pointer, both fingertips pressing against your g spot deliciously. You begin to wordlessly pump yourself on Charlie’s fingers. He matches your pace, curling and caressing his fingers with every thrust. Your hands occupy your breasts, rolling your nipples as Charlie continues to suck your clit and finger you simultaneously. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“If you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” you whine, “And I’m sure you’d like to feel me cum on your cock instead.”

You didn’t mean for something so filthy to leave your mouth so soon, but god, it causes Charlie to pause his movements and gauge what you just said to him.

“Please,” Charlie gulps, “Only if you’ll let me.”

“I’m on the pill,” you say, hastily pulling at the bottom hem of Charlie’s shirt and tugging it over his head.

Charlie quickly removes his pants and underwear, discarding them somewhere in the room before clambering back to you, “Tell me what to do.”

“It’s just like your fingers,” you say, sliding your hands along Charlie’s chest, “Push into me slowly until you bottom out.”

“Okay,” Charlie says, focusing on lining himself up perfectly.

Slowly, he pushes his tip into you, and your hands reach out for his upper arms. You grunt as Charlie continues to gently guide himself inside you, the stretch of his size stinging a little. But then he finally bottoms out, and you wiggle your hips to better adjust to him. Charlie is hovering over you, the most pleasured look on his face as his eyes close. He’s never felt something so warm and perfect engulf him like this. No wonder everyone else has done this already, he thinks to himself.

“You can move, Charlie.”

Charlie pulls out of you just a small amount before sliding back in, testing the waters on how he’s supposed to thrust into you. Gradually, you let him inch closer and closer to pulling all the way out and then thrusting back in. Finally, he pulls out except for his tip, then sheathes himself completely inside of you.

The moan you let out is nearly pornographic as he hits you at just the right angle. This urges Charlie to do the movement again, so he pulls out, then plunges back into you. He does this over and over, faster each time.

“You’re doing so good, Charlie, fuck,” you grip his biceps as you move your hips in time with his.

“Only good for you,” he pants, his fingers digging into your hips for leverage.

You reach a hand down to toy with your clit, but when Charlie notices, he switches your hand for his. He decides to use his thumb since he could access your clit better that way while fucking you. Charlie rubs tight circles on your bundle of nerves as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside you repeatedly. A tight warmth is building in your stomach again.

Charlie leans his face down to yours, immediately capturing you into a kiss. The kiss is hot and messy- you’re both gasping and swirling your tongues together with mouths open as you both desperately chase your highs.

“I’m gonna,” Charlie groans, burying his face in your neck.

“Cum for me, Charlie. Such a good boy for me,” you whimper, rocking your hips into his at a ferocious pace.

Your words send him unraveling, and the sound that erupts from his throat pushes you over the edge as well. You grasp at his arms, riding out your orgasm as Charlie continues to rub your clit lazily. You push his hand away, but at the same time, it feels so good. Charlie brings his hand back to your clit, knowing the sounds you were still making means you like how it feels. After he carefully pulls out of you, he continues his movements.

“I’m gonna cum again, please,” you messily swivel your hips, grinding your clit onto Charlie’s thumb as hard as you can with your shaking body.

“Fuck,” you cry out, Charlie still rubbing you hard and fast, “I’m-”

Before you can finish your sentence, you cum hard, your arousal seeping out of you and into Charlie’s hand. Your chest heaves as Charlie licks his hand clean before letting his hands rub up and down your body, your orgasm still fizzling out.

“How did I do?” Charlie asks nervously.

“So good. I can’t imagine how much better you’ll get over time,” you smile as Charlie grabs his shirt for you to clean up with.

“Wanna stick around and find out?” Charlie half jokes, handing you the shirt.

“Only if you want me to,” you say, cleaning yourself up.

“I want you to,” Charlie says softly, “I still have a lot to learn.”

“That you do,” you chuckle before pecking Charlie on the lips.

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