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#anyway this was supposed to just be a post of the smiles I got carried away in the tags lmao
cheeriecherrymain · 7 months
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Me: Mother, we should dress the baby up for halloween.
Mother: She's not even four months old yet, she doesn't need candy.
Me: I didn't say anything about candy???
Mom: But then why dress her up?
Me:....You know, just because you've dressed up two babies before now, doesn't mean that it's not still fun >:C
Mom: I've dressed up two babies before, which means I already know how much this one is going to squirm and fuss when she gets uncomfortable.
Me:
Mom:
Me: But-
Mom: You already bought a costume, didn't you?
Me: YES, look at it, it's a little pumpkin overalls set, with a matching hat-
Mom: She'll be too hot-
Me: I considered that when I bought the fabric. It's made out of muslin, so depending on what the weather is like, we can put it on her as just clothes, or we can get her cozy with something warmer underneath.
Mom:
Me:
Mom: You made this?
Me: Yes. the costumes at the store are scratchy and they smell weird.
Mom: ....we should try it on her to make sure it fits...
Me: I mean, it's pretty loose already. I wanted her to be able to wiggle around if she wanted to. Plus I added some extra snaps in case we needed some extra room, or she decided to get significantly bigger in the next month.
Mom: Honey, I'm saying that I would like to put the baby in the pumpkin suit right this very second, because it's very cute.
Me: Oh. Okay! I think Dad has her?
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thecreelhouse · 3 months
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pin back in the grenade
Paring: Steve Harrington x AFAB reader
Word count: 6k+
CW/tags: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, post s4, mentions of wounds/blood/etc., fluff, PiV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), somno if you squint (tbh not really but just to be safe gonna add that one), light dirty talk. title is from ‘liar’ by paramore. MDNI
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request from this post (that was supposed to be a blurb and I am so sorry): 🩹  tending to each other's wounds, 🍯  friends to lovers, 🔥  slow burn, 🛏 only one bed
also combining this with a request I got back after s4 part 2 dropped (to that anon, I am REALLY sorry lmao) for post s4 comfort sex w/ Steve. anyway, hope y’all enjoy <3
“Do you get a new freckle every day?”
Steve’s brows crinkle together while he laughs wearily. “Huh?”
You’re cleaning the wound around his neck and can’t help noticing just how many freckles and moles he has across his body. Or, from what you can see, at least. He has his shirt off while you’re tending to his injuries from the Upside Down and Vecna’s destruction across Hawkins.
Over the last several years, Steve’s normally vacant house became a safe haven for disasters like these, also a place where the kids could be together to just hang out on the quiet, normal days. He never said it, but he loved hearing the kids laughing and yelling, sometimes having movie nights, or playing DnD; it was a welcomed sound compared to the painful quiet he had grown used to for the majority of his life. 
Tonight, no inside jokes and endearing name calling echoed throughout the house. No fighting over which movie to play first, or what kind of pizza to order, or the shouting and cheering that usually came along with playing their favorite game. If anything, there were somber conversations, softly echoing through the house, with words and emotions no kid should have to be worried about. Sometimes there was crying, or complete silence, where the only thing Steve could hear was the faint, yet now permanent ringing in his ears he had gained over the last several years. Any which way a sound like these carried through the house, it broke his heart.
So, you try distracting him as the two of you clean one another’s wounds for yet another night. You keep things light where possible, but the both of you know it’s only a bandaid over a permanent emotional scar that is torn open time and time again. The physical wounds always heal, but the heartbreak you’ve all grown accustomed to is one that weighs so heavy on everyone’s hearts, and you can’t imagine it vanishing anytime soon.
“Yeah, I swear, it’s like you’re magically turning into a connect the dots picture, or something.” Steve smiles, laughing softly through his nose at your corny attempt to keep his mind off of the trauma.
“You think so? Maybe one of these days you should come up with a drawing out of ‘em.” Steve’s trying his hardest to keep things lighthearted, too, but sometimes it’s just easier to feel the pain instead of forcing any positivity.
“Jesus, this is gnarly.” You murmur, still amazed by the damage Steve took this time around as you’re softly swiping some kind of medicated ointment along the open wound. He hisses from the dull sting, but the substance begins to numb the ache and inflammation, bringing some sort of relief, if any at all. “Do you feel like a greasy slug when you use this stuff? Because I definitely feel like a greasy slug when I use it.”
Neither of you had figured out the best way to dress the wound around his neck, so Steve had been changing clean t-shirts like bandages every few hours. The others, at least, were relatively easy to clean and dress, but they seemed to be deeper; Steve probably needed stitches on some, but he refused to go to the hospital, insisting other people in town had worse injuries, and needed the medical attention more.
“I mean, I feel slimy… but not like a slug— Jesus, how much sleep did you get last night?” At first, you think he’s asking because of your silly remark, but then he’s cupping the side of your face, thumb gently rubbing along your cheekbone, getting a better look at the dark circles draped under your eyes. You push aside the butterflies in your stomach from his touch as you reach for his clean shirt, moving his arms out in front of you to roll the fabric down and over his arms and head. For a moment, you miss his touch, but it’s back on your face after he adjusts his shirt.
“Seriously, are you sleeping at all?” He asks softly, eyes filled with worry. Leave it to Steve to worry about everyone else before himself. 
You shrug as you look away, not wanting to make a big fuss. “Last night was just rough up here,” You poke at your temple. “That’s all. I’m sure I’ll be able to sleep easily tonight with how tired I am.”
“Where’d you sleep last night?” He asks, knowing decent spots to sleep were limited now that the all of the kids were reunited again. Everyone, except Max who was at the hospital, and Lucas, who refused to leave her side. Still, there were only so many places to rest for the entire group, even in a roomy house like Steve’s.
“Um… well, some of the kids had the pullout couch, one took a recliner, Robin has the guest room, and Jonathan and Nancy have your parents’ room… so I slept on the floor in the living room.” You shrug, but you know that contributed to the lack of sleep, and extra aches in your back. How you ever easily slept on the floor as a kid during sleepovers, you’ll never understand.
Steve looks bothered by this, letting go of your face as you move to the faucet to wash your hands. “What? Why didn’t you say something? You could’ve had my bed.”
You scoff a laugh out, “Steve, you need a real bed after everything you’ve been through. I can handle the floor like a big kid.”
“Okay, well, tonight you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the floor, I don’t mind. Or I can sleep downstairs somewhere if you want sp—”
You shake your head wildly. “Don’t- I don’t wanna be alone again.” You maneuver around Steve as he slides off the counter, and you take his spot to let him tend to your wounds next. Finally, you confess, “I fell asleep once, and it was just one giant nightmare. I stayed up after that. Didn’t want to see that shit again.”
Steve washes his hands, lips pursed and brows furrowed as he keeps quiet for a moment, thinking. The two of you always trusted one another, always came to one another whenever you needed, so why the hell were you isolating yourself now?
“Next time, tell me. Wake me up. I don’t care.” Steve’s tone is firm, but he’s not upset with you. Just upset that you’re retreating into yourself when he just wants to help. 
He starts peeling off the butterfly bandages around the slit skimming vertically down your eye. It begins just above your eyebrow, running down to your brow bone, pausing across your eye before continuing just under your lash line, finishing off past your cheekbone. Instinctually, your eye begins to squint closed, but the action tugs at your skin, stinging along the edge of your wound. 
“Steve, you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since high school. Why would I wake you up when you need the rest?” He starts cleaning the wound, sighing to pause himself, think carefully about what he wants to say next. You keep going. “I actually did come in last night, but you were sound asleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up, not when you need the rest.”
“Close your eye for a second.” You do, appearing as if you’re failing an attempt at winking. Steve’s gently patting the cut with some sort of medical disinfectant on a cotton ball, heart aching little by little as you whimper in pain. You try keeping quiet, knowing your wounds are nothing compared to his. “You can cry you know. Or curse. Or yell. Or whatever. Stop trying to hide it.”
“Mine are like… paper cuts compared to yours.” He pats the wound dry with a new piece of cotton, sighing again. “What?”
“You don’t have to hide your pain from me. I’m not sure if you’re worried its a burden to anyone, or whatever, but you never hid from me before. What happened?” Steve begins to apply clean butterfly bandages along the deep slit in your skin. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to your lips, and you have to remind yourself your other face wound is a split in your lip. “Gotta get that next.”
“I can do it.”
“Nope, if you’re gonna nurse all of my wounds, it’s only fair if I do that for you in return.”
“Steve, you don’t have to—”
“No, but I want to. You’re my best friend, and you’ve been patching up my wounds since we were reckless little shits on the playground. You care about me, let me care about you.” His thumb gently presses on the untouched side of your bottom lip, holding it steady so he can begin fixing that one up, too. You’re too aware of how the pad of his thumb feels against your lip, wondering what it’d be like to wrap your lips around it and take him into your mouth.
“See, this is why I gotta hold your lip, you’re so twitchy.” Steve teases, unaware of why your bottom lip trembles every now and then when he’s so close. Is he really that clueless? “After this, you’re sleeping in my bed. I’ll carry you and lock you in my room if it means you’re gonna sleep like a normal person tonight.”
Your skin prickles and hair stands on end at his words. He really has no idea what he does to you with silly comments like these.
“Okay, but like…. What if I have to pee in the middle of the night?”
Steve stops his movements, snorting as his eyes close while a smile graces his features. With a shrug, he simply answers, “Hold it.”
Your jaw drops, feigning offense. “That’s fucked up, Steven.”
“So is sleeping on the floor instead of a bed.”
“You need it more than me!”
“Will you shut up for like, ten seconds? I’m almost done with this.” He’s stifling his own laughter, before murmuring, “Not gonna lie, you’re gonna look so badass when these are healed.”
“Pfffft. Maybe, but no one’s gonna be attracted to this mess.” You’re only joking, but Steve frowns as he applies petroleum jelly to your lips, generous on your cut. 
“What? No fucking way. You’re still a babe.”
“Yeah, okay, Steve. No one’s gonna kiss me after this.” You chuckle, but notice the way his eyes flicker to your lips again, lingering longer than usual, then back to your eyes. His gaze is mesmerizing, with the warm brown color and hazel undertones, you can’t bring yourself to look away. 
“I mean, I w—”
“Hey, St— oh,” Robin’s in the doorway of the bathroom, smirking at the two of you. “Am I interrupting something?” You lean back, fingers curled around the edge of the counter while Steve’s standing up straight, taking a step back from you as he clears his throat.
“N- no, we were just fixing each other up.” Steve nervously spits out, adding a shrug like everything’s cool. 
“Right. Sure you were.” Robin teases. You want to shrink into yourself and completely disappear on the spot. “Where’s the box of movies you stole from work?”
You quirk a brow at her question, then look back at Steve. “You did what?”
“Shut it— I didn’t— I borrowed them. Robin, stop spreading rumors about me.”
“Fine. Sure. You “borrowed” them,” She flashes air quotes with her fingers, and you laugh. “Where are they? The kids are driving me up a wall trying to find them.”
Steve looks puzzled, chuckling. “They’re literally right next to the damn TV. Dustin should know that by now.”
She rolls her eyes, “Oh my god,” she turns out of the room yelling down the stairs, “Dustin! Get your shit together, man!” Before walking away, she glances at the two of you again with a smirk, “Have fun playing doctor, or whatever.”
“Leave.” Steve points out the door as Robin’s already leaving.
“Yeah, you showed her.” You tease Steve, trying to let go of what he was about to say before Robin barged in. You’re sliding off of the counter, and Steve playfully pushes your shoulders from behind, forcing you out of the bathroom.
“Alright, smart ass, let’s go.” He nudges you across the hall to his room, but you try turning away. Swiftly, he turns you back towards the door. “I wasn’t kidding, I’ll throw you over my shoulder if it means getting you to sleep in a bed.” He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders, pushing you through the doorway comically.
“Steve, if you wanted me in your bed so bad, all you have to do is ask nicely.” You’re not even trying to be coy or flirt, but it makes him choke on air. You spin around quickly, “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, I— wrong pipe.” He rasps out, clearing his throat. You don’t buy it, realizing your lazy joke was the reason for his coughing fit. Still, you let it go, not wanting to embarrass him. Steve continues clearing his throat as he pulls some old blankets out of his closet, and some pillows from his bed to lay out on the floor.
“Stay in your bed, I’ll take the floor, it’s fine.” You’re trying one more time, hoping he’ll stop being so stubborn and sleep in his fucking bed. 
“Why are you so damn stubborn?” He wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up off the floor slightly, carrying you a few feet over before dropping you into his bed. 
“I was just thinking the same about you.” You murmur, arms crossed as you look at the bed behind you. You realize how big it is, and have an idea. “If you won’t let me sleep on the floor, just sleep next to me. There’s plenty of room for the both of us anyway.”
“Sleep— sl— next to you? Same bed?” Steve’s voice cracks, pulling giggles out of you. 
“Yes, Steve. Same bed. Unless you’ve got another one hiding around here.” You’re surprised you’re even suggesting this when the idea makes you incredibly nervous, but you need sleep, and Steve needs sleep, and you’re out of any other ideas. “If you want it to yourself though, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No- I- stop it, I’m gonna sleep on the floor, and that’s final.” His hands are on his hips, his signature, go-to move when he’s scolding the kids, but you’ve qualified for its appearance tonight, too. You rise to your knees on the bed, hitting eye level with him while you mirror him, hands falling to your hips in the same pose he has. 
Steve isn’t having it, and before you can start verbally teasing him, he’s pushing you back into bed. You catch yourself on your hands as you stumble back onto the pillows. “I’m gonna superglue you to the bed.”
“Now you’re just being a child.”
“Me? You were just—” Steve sighs, hand dragging over his face. “Just go to sleep.”
“I don’t want to!” Your bottom lip is wobbling as your bloodshot eyes tear up ever so slightly; you’re doing all you can to hold them back, reminding yourself logically this isn’t that serious, but your emotions show otherwise.
If anyone else in any normal circumstances yelled this, they’d be deemed childish. You, on the other hand, you’re yelling this for perfectly valid reasons. And Steve knows what you’re feeling all too well. One more time, his heart breaks for you, watching the panic spread across your sleep deprived face.
“I don’t want to sleep, I don’t want to watch you get hurt over and over again in my nightmares. I’ve seen that too many times in real life, it’s sickening watching you get beaten to death time and time again… and I just— fuck. Steve, just take the fucking bed. Please? I don’t want to sleep, and you need it more than me, I really don’t mind the fl—”
Steve sits next to you and pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly against him. That’s when the floodgates finally break. You grip onto his shirt, balling the fabric into your fists as you begin crying on his shoulder.
“M’not going anywhere. Promise. You’re safe, I’m safe, everyone’s okay.” You know that’s not completely truthful; Max is hanging on by a thread in the hospital, and Eddie’s gone. Steve knows this, but right now his concern is getting you to finally fall asleep. “C’mon, you’ll feel better if you lay down.” You expect Steve to gently nudge you to the pillows alone, but he keeps his hold on you, carefully laying the both of you down. “You sure you’re okay with me staying in bed?” You nod against his shoulder, wrapping yourself around him as if that’ll anchor him here for good. 
“Don’t go,” You’re mumbling into the fabric of his shirt, wanting to tug yourself closer to him, hang onto him like a clingy koala, but you’re trying to stay mindful of his injuries. 
“Not going anywhere.” Steve whispers, kissing the top of your head before lingering for a moment. “Not going anywhere without you.” Neither of you untangle from one another, and Steve’s embrace is starting to calm you down to steadier breathing and shaky hiccups instead of heavy crying filled with anxiety and dread. With your body desperate for rest and the security you feel with Steve, it doesn’t take long for sleep to pull you in. Steve’s snoring softly shortly after you fall asleep.
———
At some point in the night, the two of you untangle, rolling to opposite sides of the bed. Steve’s woken up by movement, strange shifting in the bed next to him, and an airy whimper, just loud enough for him to hear. He rubs his eyes, turning over and sees your figure, facing away from him, remembering that the two of you fell asleep in his bed. 
Steve’s not sure what time it is, nor does he really care, especially not after hearing another soft noise float from your parted lips. Trying to adjust to the dark surroundings, despite the weak glow from a night light plugged in, he stares at you, or what he can see, at least, worried you’re having another nightmare. He moves closer and leans over you, prepared to wake you up and give comfort if you need, but you don’t look scared. If anything, you look pained, frustrated; Steve’s eyes scan down your figure as you move again, noticing the way your hips roll forward against your own hand.
Holy shit.
Frozen, he can’t take his gaze off of you. He needs to. He should roll back over and force himself back to sleep, pretend he never heard anything, never saw you—
“Steve…” You murmur, languidly grinding against the heel of your palm, face buried into the pillow as you writhe under his imaginary touch. His mind starts spiraling.
That’s why you got nervous when he held your lip, or when you mentioned how with a lip scar inevitable in the near future, no one would want to kiss you, and the way the two of you couldn’t take your eyes off of one another. How you looked so mortified when Robin walked in, forcing the two of you apart. He begins to realize how this isn’t new, this has been going on for awhile, and he can’t believe how oblivious he’s been.
The signs have always been in your lingering touches, when you lock eyes with him and share knowing glances no one else would understand, the way you’ve always tried protecting him, or tending to his now routinely scheduled injuries whenever he’s caught up in anything related to the Upside Down. It’s always been in the way you’d give up your comfort for him, how you’d never complain if he woke you up from nightmares, calling at three in the morning. 
How it’s an unspoken pact between the two of you to share your fries with one another, or when one falls asleep early during movie nights, the other thoughtfully covers them in a blanket, letting them rest. How you always keep extra medical supplies in your car just for Steve’s clumsy ass. How he’s sneaking you video tapes for free whenever you visit him at work. How you insist on calling him exactly at midnight on his birthday. 
You’d drop everything in an instant for Steve, and he’d do the same for you without hesitation. Whenever he tries to put your needs first, you’re quick to point out that someone needs to care about him, too.
Steve can’t believe how clueless he’s been, and out of all the times he’s figuring this out, it’s now, while you’re having a wet dream about him. Because of fucking course it would hit him now.
While his thoughts ran in a million different directions at once, he wasn’t aware of how hard he became, hearing your cute little noises, and how he’s still pressed right against you from behind. Does he let you continue? Does he wake you up? If he does, what’s his excuse? Lie and say it was a nightmare? Or tell you the truth, risking ruining something before it could ever begin, embarrassing you on the spot?
Without warning, you turn over, still asleep as your arms slip around his torso loosely, as if you’re still trying to be careful with his wounds while knocked out. One of your legs slot between his, and Steve has to bite back a groan at the pressure against his bulge. As if that alone wasn’t threatening to make him fall apart, your hips begin moving lazily again against his leg, and he can feel your sticky heat on his skin through your sleep shorts. Steve’s about to lose his fucking mind.
“Stevie, wanna make y’feel good…” You’re still asleep as you murmur this. Steve knew you talked in your sleep, but never like this. He can’t take it anymore. One hand ends up on the hip facing away from the bed, while the other is drawn to your neck, curling to the back to hold you gently as his fingers slide up into your hair. 
“Wanna make you feel good too, angel.” He’s guiding you slowly along his thigh, tensing up underneath you; he’s not sure how to wake you up without startling you, and he doesn’t want the building desire to end so soon. 
In time with his thoughts, you begin to stir, eyes fluttering open. You blink a couple times, then Steve nudges against your core again, and you keen, throwing your head back into his hand already waiting for you.
“Oh- oh, fuck, oh my god…” You’re growing aware of the situation, realizing your dream is becoming reality so seamlessly. You’re embarrassed, you want to hide away and apologize, but Steve rubs himself against the leg you have pressed against him, releasing a throaty groan; the embarrassment falls away, fast. “St- Steve?”
“Yeah?” He’s trying not to pant this soon, trying not to sound so breathy and needy already.
“M’sorry, I- I didn’t realize that I—”
Steve shushes you softly, bringing your face closer to his as he leans in, noses touching while you’re both making the sweetest noises together. “I can stop, if you want. I- I shouldn’t just assume you want this, maybe it was a silly dream—”
“No, it wasn’t… I really want you, Steve.” Your hands test the waters, sliding up his body, but only over his shirt, before holding his face; your gaze locks with his, and despite the dim glow in the room, you can see the lust ridden look he’s giving you while nodding wordlessly to give his consent. You lean in to kiss him, lips touching ever so slightly; you freeze as self doubt sets in, but he senses it, and kisses you back fully, mindful of your split lip. 
It’s slow, almost too slow for you and how wound up you are from the dream, but you do your best to stay patient. Steve’s hand on your hip sneaks under your shirt, just enough that the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, just beneath the hem. The hand cradling the back of your head moves to your jaw, fingers splaying out to get a better hold on you when his lips part against yours. You make some kind of small noise, a muffled yelp that slips into Steve’s mouth when his tongue slips into yours. Distracted by the kiss, your hips stopped rolling, so Steve begins guiding you along his thigh again.
A moan shudders out of you as you pull back to catch your breath. Steve can’t take his eyes off of you as your eyes flutter shut, head falling back as another sweet moan leaves your lips, losing yourself in the pleasure from such a simple action.
You’re not sure when, but your hands made it to Steve’s back, fists bunched up with the fabric of his shirt, not wanting to touch any part of him that might hurt, but needing to grab something. 
“Does th- this happen a lot?” He manages to ask, and in his head, he’s rolling his eyes at himself, because he wanted that to sound so much sexier than it did. You’re in a whole different world, though, already blissed out when barely anything has happened yet.
“Mhm,” You open your eyes as you answer, the burning desire low in your body growing hotter as the two of you make eye contact again. “Can I- can we— take this stupid thing off.”
Steve laughs, realizing maybe sexy isn’t what either of you need right now; being best friends already, it only makes sense that the only time the two of you can’t form coherent thoughts laced with lust would be when you’re pressed up against one another for the first time.
Pulling his hands back, he gestures to his shirt in the goofiest way, like he’s Vanna fucking White, showing off a purchased vowel. “You can’t take this seriously, can you?” You’re not mad, in fact, you’re laughing with him, and something about the two of you nervously laughing makes you more comfortable being intimate with your best friend. 
“I’m just filling in the blanks for you, angel.” He’s smirking, but he’s also trying to stifle more laughter, so it just comes out as a product of a snicker and a snort. 
“Oh, that was real cute,” You tease, reaching for his waist. “Words, words are hard.” You’re grumbling, tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt, carefully pulling it over his head.
“Yeah, don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”
Whatever smart-ass retort you had ready to roll off your tongue disappears at the sight of Steve, now shirtless. It’s nothing new to you, you’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but in the moment, you’re hyper aware of how different this is. There’s no going back, but if you were being honest, there was no going back once you moaned his name in your sleep.
“What?” Steve asks, laughter dying down as he watches you reach out to his torso, tracing his scars, both old and the ones just beginning to form. 
“You’re so… pretty.”
Steve blushes, a rosy red shade blooms across his face, to the tips of his ears. “I— shut up.”
You scoff, “I’m being honest!” He tugs at the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your permission, but your hands hold his back, shaking your head. Shyly, you state the obvious, “I don’t have a bra on.” Of fucking course you don’t, you never sleep in bras. Even Steve knows that, forever impressed with how you could just unhook that damn thing with one hand so casually and slip out of it, pulling it out of your shirt without ever stripping. It’d take everything in him to hold his jaw from dropping, when you just wanted out of a ridiculously uncomfortable bra.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve reassures softly, only to follow it up with, “I don’t either.”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m going back to sleep,” You tease, beginning to roll back over, but Steve grabs you quickly to roll you on top of him instead. 
“Like hell you are,” He’s tugging at your shirt again, looking up at you with those sweet doe eyes, filled with wonder and curiosity over what his best friend looks like under everything. “Don’t feel pressured to say yes. We can st—”
You’re pulling your shirt off with a determined speed, like ripping off a bandaid, throwing it on the floor. “I do not look good with these bruises.” 
Steve sits up, all humor and admiration draining from his features as he takes in all of the severe bruising you have from a few days ago. “Wh… how— why didn’t you show me? Or tell me? Fuck, I probably made some of them worse—”
“Hey, Steve, it’s okay. Seriously. I’m okay. These are nothing compared to what you ended up with.”
He shakes his head, ghosting his fingers over some of the worst bruises, blooming in the darkest shades of purple and blue he’s ever seen on someone, including himself, and that says a lot. Some are beginning to grow into that sickly yellow, even greenish color. 
“What the hell do I have to do or say to convince you that you’re allowed to show me your pain too?” He’s not sure what he’s feeling, he just wishes you said something, wishes he knew so he could care for you properly.
“There’s not much you can do for bruises, Steve.” You shrug. “M’sorry, I just wanted to put you first. You’re always caring for everyone else before yourself, and I wish you’d let someone care for you, too. I want to give you the love and care you give everyone but yourself. These mean nothing to me, I just didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Disappointed? From what? How you look with these? Because I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re still a babe with your face wounds, and that applies here too. You have… no fucking idea how badly I want to get my hands all over you, but I think we should stop. I don’t want to make those more painful than they already are.”
“Steve, I can handle it. I bruise like a peach, anyway.” You’re mentioning it casually, but enjoy the way he blushes at your words, clearly thinking of better reasons to be bruised. You smirk, “Feel free to tuck that fun fact away for another day.”
“I— I’ll bring that back up later.” He murmurs, trying to focus. “Anyway… are you sure?”
Rolling your eyes, you grab his hands, bringing them to your tits roughly. “Does this answer your question?”
Enthusiastically, Steve nods, fingers already toying with your nipples, breathing out, “Fuck yeah it does.” You start giggling until he latches onto one of the sensitive nubs, fingers softly pinching at the other every so often, in between grabbing a handful of you. He groans into your skin, thinking about how long he’s wanted to touch you like this, but it’s better than he imagined. 
You’re arching your back as he switches sides, a thread of spit unraveling from his lips that’s still clinging to you;  your eyes to roll back as you grind down onto his lap from just the sight alone, fingers twisting into his locks, tugging softly as he sucks, bites, soothes with his tongue, then repeats.
“I need…” You’re gasping, head falling back; Steve takes advantage of your exposed neck, kissing up your chest before leaving small, soft love bites up to your jawline. 
“You need… what?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, but you can’t take it slow anymore, you need him now. You grab his face to kiss him, and it’s a little sloppy, a little clumsy, but he leans into it anyway. The two of you find a semi perfect rhythm, one that flows with the way you continue to grind onto him. You nip his bottom lip, tugging on it before letting go, and Steve moans into you. 
“Need you, need you right now.” You’re frantically murmuring against his lips.
“We don’t have to rush.” He pulls back, searching your features for any sign that something is off, but all he sees are your lust blown pupils. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but—”
You kiss him quickly before pushing him back against the pillows, shimmying down his body, kissing his scars with care along the way, continuing down until you reach the waistband of his shorts.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Steve, quit being nice for, like, five minutes. Are you okay with this?”
With a gulp he nods, breathing heavily “I— I’m more than okay with this.”
“Thank fuck.” You tug his shorts down, almost drooling as you watch his length spring free, the rounded tip red with desire, leaking precum. “Steve, what the fuck.”
“You’re sending me so many mixed signals tonight, holy shit. Is that … is that good?”
You need to shut your mouth, mind too far in a cock-drunk daze to tease him with words. So, you run your tongue up the underside his cock, broadly, taking your time to reach the head, eyes on him the entire time. Steve yelps on contact, eyes screwing shut as his head falls against the pillow, but he pushes himself to look down at you, bucking against your tongue before you take him in completely.
“Jesus fucking Chri-iiiiiiiist,” He shudders out, hands tangling into your hair as you begin to bob up and down on him. “This… you… hhhhohmygod—”
You pull off with a pop that echoes off the walls, a sound Steve wishes he could’ve recorded to play when he gets off in the future, followed by the sight of you drooling onto his cock as it kicks with need.
“Tell me how you really feel, Steve,” You tease before taking him in again, but he holds your head in place, making you pout. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, no, fuck no. Your mouth feels so fucking good, angel, but I need… I…”
“Take your time, babe, it’s okay.” You tease, making Steve groan, both with annoyance and a craving for you to get mouthy, just not now. 
“Fuck me, just need you to fuck me, please baby,” He’s babbling as he tugs you back up his body, hands on your hips as you hover above his cock. “Need to feel you, angel.”
You push your shorts down and throw them to the floor with your shirt. “Yeah?” You lightly rub your core against his cock, and he bucks with a desperate whine. 
“Yes, please, please—”
Words become nonexistent as you sink down onto him slowly, walls slowly stretching around him, adjusting to his size.
“Knew you w- were big, but not like… not like this.” You’re panting, overwhelmed by the slight pain from taking him to the hilt, but the pleasure is greater, rendering your brain useless. Not a damn thing on your mind except Steve and how fucking good he feels so deep inside of you.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Steve gasps, grip digging into your hips roughly, knowing he’s just adding to your bruises, but he’ll apologize later. “You’re so— never felt a pussy tighter than yours, angel. M’god, don’t fucking move.”
You giggle, and he glares at you. “Don’t— do not do that either, just… fucking sit there for a second, okay? I’m really not trying to blow my load this early.” You’re doing your best to keep stoic, nodding as you fold your hands and wait patiently. “Oh my god, why are you like this?”
Shrugging, you begin to reply, “Why n— oh!” Steve pulls you down to him roughly, kissing you as he begins to move, fucking you slowly from below. He guides you by the hold on your hips, bouncing you on his cock, causing your eyes to roll back as he moves a hand to the back of your head. Holding you tightly against him, your forehead rests against his as the two of you gasp and pant lewdly onto each other’s lips. You’re riding him like no one else has, to the high fucking heavens, and he swears he’s gonna die a happy man right here, underneath you.
“How often have you dreamt about this?” You shamelessly ask, sitting up and leaning back as you roll your hips, grinding down so he hits your sweet spot just right. Steve’s speechless, flexing up into you, jaw slack as your walls flutter around him. “You’re so pussy-drunk right now, huh?”
A strained “Mhm,” leaves him; he’s not even going to hide how he’s putty in your hands, right now, and as long as you’ll have him. Finally, he rasps, “Fuck, wish we did this sooner.”
“We got all the time in the world to make up for it, Stevie.” Your legs twitch and shake, signaling you’re not far off from your high, but they’re also sore still from days ago, and right now, you’re just making them hurt more. Great cause, of course, but it doesn’t dull the pain, so you’re beginning to slow down. “Fuck, my legs hurt.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Steve pulls you back down arms wrapped around your back, one hand gripping around his other wrist, keeping you stable as he plants his feet against the bed, fucking up into you with everything he’s got. “It’s okay, angel, I’ve got ya’.” He grunts, hammering into you with so much force, you can’t help but moan loudly, almost screaming, but you bury your face into his shoulder, biting down to muffle your noises as you flutter around him. “Fuck, didn’t think you were so vocal.” At this point, you are screaming, but the noise barely leaves you as you keep your mouth on his skin.
Steve’s hips are starting to stutter, and his cock twitches, needy for release. “Good girl, don’t wanna wake up the whole house, right?” That’s the final push over the edge for you; grabbing Steve’s face, you kiss him deeply to keep quiet. The faint, metallic taste of blood works its way onto your tongue, and you realize your semi-treated split lip is split once again. You pull back, trying to keep as quiet as possible, frantically whispering, “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you—” Following you into bliss, Steve pulls you back onto his lips as he cums, filling you shamelessly as you still squeeze him, milking him for all he’s got as he’s moaning into you.
When the two of you come down, covered in a sticky sheen of sweat and hearts ready to beat out of your chests, the shame hits fast as he pulls back enough to murmur, “Fuck. I didn’t even ask—”
“Birth control is a beautiful thing, babe.” You smile down at him, breathless. Steve sighs relief, thankful for whoever the fuck created the pill. His eyes fall to your lip before thumb swiping the mess away.
“Shit, m’sorry.”
“Worth it. So fucking worth it.” You giggle before he kisses you softly. 
Pulling back, Steve reaches out to cup the side of your face, and you lean into his touch, giddy and exhausted all at once.
He’s admiring the view of you above him, softly replying to your confession, “I love you, too.” 
The two of you are basking in the afterglow of one another, beaming and holding each other tight, unable to move just yet. Steve doesn’t mind taking a second to catch his breath, but then a loud bang against his bedroom door startles the both of you.
“About fucking time!” Robin shouts from the other side before walking away. Faintly you hear her huff, “Noisy assholes.” Steve locks eyes with you, both of you stunned and embarrassed before bursting into a fit of laughter together.
“Still worth it?” Steve teases, and you shrug playfully.
“Worth what, the impending shame fest they’re gonna put us through tomorrow morning?” You lean down to kiss him again before replying against his kiss-swollen lips, “Oh, fuck yeah.”
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matryosika · 3 months
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Attraction, obsession, infatuation
Pairing — Hyunjin and fem!reader Wordcount — 7,680 words Includes — Explicit sexual content. Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness. Smut warnings under the cut. Summary — It is easier to hate than to admit loving. Alternatively, where Hyunjin realizes he might be tired of pretending he doesn't want to be more than just your toy. Author's Note — First 2024 full story! One of my New Year's resolutions was to keep on writing, since the last two years have been a bit too rough with my creativity and, overall, life. I hope I can continue posting stuff this year, but I literally can't ignore the fact that I am graduating college this June and that the adult life is, inevitably, catching up to me. Still, writing is something I love so I am determined to take this hobby very seriously, since it's one of the few things I enjoy! I hope you like this, please remember that english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes in advanced. If you wish to support my work, please leave a comment, reblog or ask 💌 Post divider by @/cafekitsune
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Smut Warnings — Dirty talk, (very) mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking and deep throating, voyeurism, female (solo) masturbation), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, marking (and mentions of pain), dacryphilia, creampie.
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Humiliating.
There is no other way to describe the situation that perfectly.
[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: Seems like you got yourself a new toy]
[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: You don’t want to play with me anymore?]
[21:20 p.m., Hyunjin: I mean, we both know why you agreed to come here in the first place. It's not like you're the best of friends with any of my roommates, anyways.]
You hate how right he always is —how shamelessly he speaks, how pridefully he carries that ego of him. 
People say there is a thin line between hatred and love, but they never talk about how tempting it is to walk on it. Especially because said line doesn't involve any of the former—if anything, that line represents all the carnal pleasures. 
Pure lust.
[21:21 p.m., You: Please]
[21:21 p.m., You: You’re so full of yourself, you know that?]
Hyunjin rolls his eyes right in front of you, tongue poking through his cheek while he reads your messages.
[21:22 p.m., Hyunjin: That never seems to be a problem when you're in my bed]
It's a never ending bickering. A never ending teasing. 
Hyunjin has always loved the thrill of doing things he isn't supposed to —no wonder why he ended up fucking you, out of all the women he knows. 
Attraction, obsession, infatuation. 
No amount of words could describe what happens between the two of you.
[21:23 p.m., You: I’m busy, in case you haven’t tell]
His cheeks grow hotter, killer eyes darting between you and the man you're talking to; appearing all sweet, gentle, collected, and everything you're not when you are with him. Your hand lays peacefully over your companion’s thigh, playfully hitting it when he says something remotely funny. 
Your smile hasn't worn off since you entered the party, and Hyunjin genuinely wonders if you’re that happy and comfortable to be around any other man. Inevitably, he begins to wonder if you'd let him touch you like he does, kiss you like he has. He stares at you two for a little too long, and questions if you'd let that man do everything Hyunjin is entitled to do with you. 
Would you let him treat you like he can? Let him fuck you like he does?
He chugs down the alcohol from his cup and uses that as an excuse to calm his masochistic urges, walking away from the scene he has been staring at for almost 10 minutes now. 
It's like pouring lime over a wound, like pulling out a loose tooth. It hurts, but it makes him feel something.
“If you didn't hate her I would say you're totally drooling over her,” a black-haired man that smiles teasingly with his eyes is quick to ambush Hyunjin as he makes his way to the kitchen. 
“What? Did your date get tired of you too early tonight?”
Changbin’s tongue pokes his cheek, and he can’t help but smile at Hyunjin’s moodiness. “She went to the bathroom, I just came here for some drinks”. 
“Well, get to it,” Hyunjin commands, stretching his shoulders in an attempt to release all the build-up tension over them.
“Man, you've been acting so out of your element lately,” Changbin remarks, placing a bottle of vodka and another of pineapple juice aside with two red solo cups. “You’re always in a fucking mood, this is actually the first time I see you outside your bedroom in like... a while”. 
Hyunjin won't admit it, but he is sulking. 
Because of college, because of work, because of things he can't begin to fix and because of you.
“Just busy, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry I can't spend all day sticking my dick in different holes and doing an 8-hour shift at the gym”. 
Changbin scoffs bitterly under his breath, nose flaring at his friend's harshness. “Maybe that's exactly what you need,” he nods, pouring a drink for himself and his date, “a good fuck”.
He rolls his eyes. 
Yeah, maybe he needs that, but he also needs for you to stop touching your date's thigh, laughing amusingly loudly like you want him to hear how much of a great time you're having. Maybe Hyunjin needs to relieve all his anger on you, or he just needs for you to spare him a fucking glance because you haven't even looked at him since you walked in.
“Yeah,” he finally exhales, stealing the vodka bottle from Changbin’s grip to pour some onto his cup. He chugs it down quickly, and clears his throat when he feels the liquid burning inside, “that’s what I need”. 
Changbin pats his right shoulder and abandons the kitchen when he spots his date closing the bathroom door behind her. And Hyunjin is left alone once again, wondering if it's time to ditch the party and lock himself inside his room or if he should hurt himself a bit more to get a grip on reality.
Inconveniently, he chooses the latter. Resting his hips against the kitchen counter, and turning his back on the full view of the living room, Hyunjin begins to thread a line of questions that may never have a proper answer. 
Had he met you in another context, and in a distinct light, would things be different? Would your dynamic be different?
Maybe he would've apologized when he had time, for all the useless bickering that always took place between the two along the friend group. Had he surrendered to your stubbornness, rather than putting up a fight like it's typical from him, would the anguish be less?
Now that he reflects on it, Hyunjin can't even tell why you two hate each other these days. He never questioned it, the hatred you felt for each other, but he no longer knows why it's still there. Maybe it was a first impression, maybe it was a dumb comment or joke he cracked when you were introduced to the friend group. Maybe it was the fact that you two are so alike, personality wise, that you never seemed to get on.
Maybe you keep on hating each other because that's how it always has been, because there hasn't been a room to question the "what if's". 
Or maybe you hate him just for being him, and the only thing you've come to mend with is the fact that he is nothing more than a good fuck.
His heart aches because of this last thought, and he stares at his phone screen for a bit too long, hoping to get a text from you. But you're busy, you said it yourself, and he is just feeling out of place. 
“Hey,” the familiar voice it's enough for him to lift up his eyes from his phone, encountering a sheepishly grinning, red-eyed Jisung. “Changbin told me you’re in a mood, again”.
“He should put his mouth to good use,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. 
“He is worried about you though,” his friend says. “We all are, you know”. 
Hyunjin sighs, “I’m fine”. 
“Dude, come on,” Jisung drags his words lazily. “It’s about her, right?”
He shoots a killer gaze at him, “about who?”
If Jisung hadn't been higher than the fucking Empire State, he would've considered Hyunjin’s gaze a threat. But his mind is not precisely paying attention to any social cues, so he proceeds to say your name as a response. 
"You should stop smoking that shit ever so often, you know?" he spits in annoyance, "it's making you delusional".
“Yeah, right man,” Jisung nods. “And you can keep being angry with the world just because you can't be angry with her”. 
It disgusts Hyunjin how poetic that sounds, but his friend isn't too far from the truth —he would much rather project his anger and annoyance onto everyone else before you.
Because if you call, if you look for him, if you text him and ask him to see you, he will always be available. Even when he is not. Even when he has a ton shit to do. Even if all you want is his dick and a couple of dirty words. 
Every time you ask, Hyunjin will give you anything you want.
“We don't have to talk about her though. Just wanted to check up on you,” his friend continues after an excruciatingly long silence, patting one of his shoulders like Changbin did before. 
“There’s nothing to talk about, anyways,” Hyunjin says.
“Are you on, like, bad terms?” 
“We’re not on any terms,” again, the urge to deny everything. It's always easier to pretend nothing it's going on than admitting there's a huge fucking elephant in the room. “We fuck, occasionally, and that's it. Not friendship, not intimacy, not trivial conversations about each other's days”. 
“Well, that's some sort of the ideal to a fuck buddy relationship,” Jisung tilts his head. “It’s supposed to work”. 
It should. 
And it did, for a while —when the feelings were minimum and could be repressed, when the anger only translated to hatred and annoyance, and not jealousy and possessiveness.
These days, it's just not enough.
“Yeah well,” Hyunjin scoffs bitterly, holding the almost empty bottle of alcohol to his lips. 
Thank God he isn't a light weight, because he would've been screwed by now. Vodka isn't his greatest match, but neither are you and he knows he has to sacrifice something tonight —whether it’s his rationality or his heart. 
“Alright,” he finally exhales, pushing the empty bottle away from the edge of the counter. “I’m going back to my room”.
"Already?"
“That's the beauty of people using your apartment to host a fucking party, I guess,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to one of the kitchen pantries to grab his favorite bottle of wine. “You can just walk a minute and be in the comfort of your own bed”. 
“Haven’t you drunk too much?” Jisung asks. 
“Definitely not enough,” the dark-haired replies, grabbing both the bottle and a glass with one of his hands. “Tell Jeongin to kick everyone out by 2, I’m not paying for another noise complaint again”. 
And as he makes his way to his room, it's inevitable for Hyunjin not to spare a glance at the couch you were once sitting on. But his eyes meet Changbin and his date instead, without any trace of you or the man you were with. And he doesn't know if he should feel relieved or worried because you're no longer in his eyesight, and as comforting as that thought should be is nothing more than anguish-inducing.
He says goodbye to some of his friends, and also deals with Changbin’s insistence to stay around before he is able to lock himself inside his room. It was, at best, a 3 minute situation from the kitchen to his bed, but it felt like ages. Mostly because his eyes kept on scanning the whole apartment, hoping to find something that could tell him you're still there and you didn't leave the party with that man although you probably did. 
Much to his surprise, when he opens the door to his room, he finds you sitting at the edge of his bed.
You don't say anything, and neither does he. So you two stare at each other for a while before Hyunjin closes the door right behind him, leaving the wine and glass on a small table by the door.
“Wine? At a college party?” You finally interrupt the silence, using that playful, teasing tone you always use when you want to get on his nerves. “You really are something else”. 
Typical Hyunjin would think of a comeback rather quicker than the speed of light —he has always been witty and good with his words, and that's something you find utterly, despicably attractive in him. 
But after 4 shots of vodka and an unamusing mood, all he wants it’s to kick you out and plop down onto his bed. 
“Weren’t you busy?” he asks in a murmur, too lazy to make himself be heard. But it is loud and clear for you to hear, even with the bustling coming from down the hall.
“He bored me,” you admit. “Kept talking about his football team, and how he is going to work at his father's company once he graduates”. 
Hyunjin lets out a bitter and quiet scoff, giving you his back while he pours some wine onto his glass. You can’t fool him, even if you try like right now.
But he attempts to ignore his rapid heartbeats by keeping a nonchalant, even annoyed countenance, albeit a part of him can't ignore the fact that you're in his room. 
Just you and him, finally.
“Are you going back to the party or…”
“I’m tired,” he cuts you short, chugging down the wine like it's a shot of anything else. Can't care less about etiquette when all he wants is to lose his sobriety along with his rationality. “I want to sleep”. 
“It’s 10:30,” you tease him, cocking one of your eyebrows and giving him that look that always makes him feel ridiculous.
On any other day, that would've been fuel to erase that smile off of your face by pushing it onto the pillows while he fucks you from behind.
Tonight, though, it just blatantly stings. 
“So?” The coldness in his voice makes you shudder, and when he doesn't respond like he usually does it's when you realize there's something different going on.
You and Hyunjin don't share that kind of intimacy. You don't tell him your problems, and he doesn't tell you his problems either. You don't comfort each other through words or romantic touches. You don't give words of encouragement and you don't talk things through.
If there's something to say, you do so through sex. 
But right now, that you've interrupted his night, you feel somewhat compromised to ask if he is alright.
“Bad day?”
Bad week, bad month, bad year, a bad fucking life.
“Don’t have to act like you care,” Hyunjin says, resting his hips against the furniture while he pours himself another glass of wine.
The comment catches you off-guard. First and foremost, because you're not quite sure you don't care about him at all. And second, because he is making it seem like you are the reason behind his bad mood.
But if he doesn’t want to talk, you’re not going to force him to. After all, you’re in his room for one reason, and one reason only. 
“Shit, sorry for asking,” you murmur, gripping the edge of the bed sheets with both of your hands. It's a common ground you've walked in, thousands of times. You've been in his bed for far more times than you can remember, and you've fucked a lot more than you can count. So you're not afraid of asking the question: maybe you should release some stress?
Hyunjin knows what you mean. He knows the sexual connotations of it, and knows that’s exactly the reason why you're in his room. 
On any other day, Hyunjin would've taken your word. But right now, when his eyes can only focus on the crimson bruise on your neck, the proposition enrages him.
He walks towards you, completely towering over your figure. One hand holds the glass of wine, while the other cups your face and maneuvers it harshly, leaving the hickey for him to see. 
“He bored you?” The way he spits such a question makes your heart skip a beat. Don’t leave a rough mark, you told the guy, just a faint hickey. Of course he wouldn’t care, and neither did you —otherwise you would’ve checked yourself in the mirror before approaching Hyunjin wearing someone else’s lovebites, “or he just wasn't the one you wanted to fuck tonight?”
You move your head away from his touch with a swift movement, immediately missing the warmth of his skin against yours, "does that even make a difference?"
But it doesn't.
In the end, you only look for him because you want a good fuck and it seemed like your date just couldn't get the job done.
Not because you want him, particularly. 
“No,” Hyunjin replies coldly. “But you should at least have some decency, you know?”
You know he isn't teasing you, like he always does. He is not saying all this to get a reaction from you, and that unsettles you.
He is acting and saying such things because he means them. Because he feels like them.
“Since when do you care about what I do or I don't?” you ask him, the tone in your voice increasing as Hyunjin’s gaze intensifies.
“You can do whoever the fuck you want,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to grip at the edge of the furniture behind him.
“Well, I want to do you”. 
“Maybe tonight I don’t,” Hyunjin gulps down the wine, having a way harder time swallowing the euphoric sensation of his ego rather than the alcohol coming down his throat.
 And you stare at him like he just said something controversial. Something weird, something unusual coming from him.
“You’re lying,” you say, darting him a challenging look. “You always want me”. 
“Why would I want something that everyone can have?” 
It’s his anger talking. His rage, his uncertainty, his jealousy. 
You're not wrong. He wants you, he always has and most likely always will. 
But he is too proud to admit it, both to you and himself. Especially after you’ve walked into his room with the ghost of another man’s hands and lips, wearing a mark on your skin that will never compare to how Hyunjin has been allowed to mark you.
“So that’s the issue?” you defy him, standing up from the edge of his bed to walk forward. “You’re acting like this just because I was with someone else?”
Your mocking tone makes it seem like it's something ridiculous and irrational, but you've aced your initial hypothesis.
You are the reason behind his bad mood.
“Just get out,” Hyunjin says, tense jaw and cold eyes locked into yours. “You're getting on my nerves”. 
Your tongue pokes through your cheek and you look at him in disbelief —you feel taken aback because of how he is acting, and you want to blame it on the alcohol he has ingested throughout the night. But he looks sober, and way more serious than his immature facade has ever made him appear.
“If I wanted to be with someone else tonight, I would’ve left your apartment a fucking hour ago,” the boldness in your voice only challenges Hyunjin to this staring contest he didn't know he is playing. Without blinking, without parting his gaze away, all his undivided attention is on you, and the way you're spitting your words like you're truly the one with a reason to be angry. 
Needless to say, your audacity only infuriates him further.
“If you wanted to be with me, you would’ve come into my room the second you step a foot into the apartment,” he shoots back, straightening his body against the furniture and causing it to move an inch closer to you, “I mean, you know the way well, don’t you?” 
He raises one of his eyebrows, and it’s embarrassing. 
Pathetically embarrassing. 
Stupidly idiotic.
“You've crawled on all fours from the door to my room before,” Hyunjin continues, tilting his head while his gaze falls from your eyes to your parted lips, “I'm sure that was enough for you to remember the path fairly well”. 
It was one time, you say to yourself. And you'd rather die than having to admit such a humiliating thing to anyone other than him. 
You'd rather die than having everyone know what you allow Hyunjin to do to you. You'd rather disappear into thin air than having to deal with the judgemental gazes from all of your friends.
The Hwang Hyunjin? The one you say you can't stand? The one that gets on your nerves because of how childish he is? The one you tell your friends you'd turn down a thousand times even if he was the last man standing on earth?
“Go fuck yourself, Hwang,” you're so close to him you can practically taste the red wine off of his lips. You're breathing the same air, hearts beating at the same rate.
You want him worse than you wanted him before —you like the feeling of his jealousy and his possessiveness. You like it when his hatred towards you transforms into hatred to anyone who dares to touch you; no one is allowed to have you like he is entitled to, and no one is allowed to hate you the way he does.
So he leaves the empty glass of wine behind, and guides one of his hands to your heated cheeks. He caresses it, pushing away the hairs from your face —the intimate touch might feel out of place and context, but you know damn well it's nothing more than the calm before the storm. 
A calling.
A warning.
You know Hyunjin more than you'd ever want to admit, and you crave him worse than you'd ever allow yourself to think.
"God fucked you up by giving you this shitty ego,” he murmurs, brushing his lips ever so slightly against yours. It seems as if Hyunjin walked right into your trap without knowing, blinded by instincts and completely ignoring the awful show you put up earlier with a man you don't even know his name, “and he fucked me up even more for making me like it”. 
It all happens in a fraction of second, too fast for you to catch some air and too sloppy for you to get the kiss right.
You're tasting the red wine, and his rage, and the longing lust you are always demanding from him whenever your body is against his. He kisses you ardently, teasing your tongue and biting your lower lip trying to fill you up just with him —to get rid of whoever kissed you first that night, and to intoxicate you with all of him for whoever will kiss you next.
One of his hands wraps around your figure, pressing you tighter against him, while the other swims through the roots of your hair, already in position to manhandle you like he knows he can.
The way he knows you want him to.
And you don't stop him when you feel the sting in your scalp, forcing you to break the kiss and down to your knees right in front of him in a careless way that will probably leave bruises.
“Said you wanted to do me?” Hyunjin asks, unzipping his pants with his available hand while the other holds your head still, despite your efforts to wipe away the drool from your lips and the hair sticking to your cheeks with his spit. “I’m right fucking here, do me”. 
You look at him with loathing but it is nothing more than a projection: you hate yourself for how much you needed this. 
For how much you need him.
“Don’t give me those eyes,” he falsely pouts, but the sound gets drowned in a grunt when he wraps his hand around his dick to stroke it a few times before guiding your mouth to the tip of it, “you want this”. 
His gaze finds yours in the midst of the struggle, and the only way you can think of letting him know you're consenting to this is by sticking your tongue out and licking the tip of his cock, collecting all his salty precum and tasting it like you've been starving for it.
At the sight, Hyunjin chuckles lowly. Still as cold, still as enraged.
“Did you suck him off too?” he asks, using the grip on your hair as his favor —with ease, he slams his hips against your mouth, letting the tip of his cock reach parts of your throat that are still tense. “Does he taste as good as I do?”
Hyunjin doesn't need to know that you planned this all along —that you purposely did everything to get him jealous. He doesn't need to know that you like the thrill of it, of watching his possessive and jealous side.
He doesn't need to know that you utterly adore when he fucks you like he actually hates you. Like you mean nothing and everything to him at the same time.
Hyunjin doesn't need to know a lot of things, so you tag along with the fantasy of everything you've yet to deny.
“Relax,” more than a soothing word, it’s an order. He maneuvers your head all along his length, applying more pressure when your nose hits his pubic bone and then forcing you away to let you breathe. “You’ve taken this cock before, you know exactly how to do it”. 
You try to regain control of your body, and your rationality, but it seems a rather useless task —when you're with Hyunjin, he is the one that does the thinking for you. When you're with him, you can't think of anything else but him, his voice, his eyes, the way he touches and kisses you, the way he tastes and the way he feels inside you.
“Too big,” you gasp in between thrusts of his hips against your lips. Your hand flies to reach the base of his cock, but he is quick to force you backwards with the grip on your hair.
“Do not touch me”.
“Hyun-”
“I said, do not touch me,” he repeats when you try to touch him again. “Do you really think you can go around touching other men and I won't do anything about it?”
Hyunjin wishes he wasn’t as prideful as he is —if he could swallow his ego easily, he could have your hands all over his body by now. But he is proud, and vengeful, and stubborn. No matter how much his skin is burning to feel the softness of yours against it, he needs to make his point.
“You’re- you can’t be serious,” you struggle between moans, with a voice so hoarse it's barely audible. 
“There’s the door,” he forces your head towards it, “you can leave if you don’t like it”. 
Your doe eyes, filled with anger and defy, dart between him and the door. Hyunjin is always the one in control, you're not really unfamiliar with that —the fact that he is acting like this, offering you a way out if you’re not willing to do things his way, makes you feel uneasy and curious.
You choose to stay only for the latter. Not because of anything else, right?
Right?
You don’t say anything, but fix your gaze on the man in front of you. 
And Hyunjin gets it, he gets the look you're giving him. That, paired with the fact that you're not doing anything to get away from his grip, tells him that you're more than willing to keep on going, so he continues manhandling you around.
“C’mere,” he mutters when guiding your head along his cock again, making you swallow him full without giving you any kind of warning whatsoever, “just like that”. 
You're gagging, and tearing up, and clearly struggling to take all of his cock. But never have you felt this hungry, and never have you felt this emptiness between your legs that only Hyunjin seems to be able to fill.
Your hands ache for his flesh, and so desperately you want to sink them on his thighs or ass; intertwine them with his, latch your fingers against his and squeeze them while you prove to him that he's the only one that gets to fuck your mouth like this. 
“Please,” you cry out when he gives you a break to catch some air, “I need- let me touch you, please”. 
"Should've thought of it before putting your hands on someone else," he hissed, brushing your hair wet with drool and tears away from your face. “Should’ve thought about me before running to another man”. 
“Hyunjin”.
Oh, how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips —especially when accompanied with sobs and whimpers. You're always so cool and collected, like you control everything and everyone around you. You never cry, never show anyone else a crevice of what you truly are, but he is the only one that gets to see you like this. The only one you really trust, the only one you give control to.
If you hate him that much, why do you always come crawling back to him?
If you hate him that much, why is he the only one that gets to use you like this?
And if you hate him that much, why can't Hyunjin forget what he truly feels about you?
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, cleaning your mouth and chin with the back of your hand. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I’m sorry”. 
“For what exactly?” He is so close to you, you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours and get drunk on the wine that lingers in his breath. He is so close to you, he almost can't resist the urge of crashing his lips against yours again and taste himself off of you. 
“I don’t know,” you look at him with teary eyes. You feel like crying, and Hyunjin can tell. “I don’t know, it’s just- I’m sorry, okay? If that’s what you want to hear, then I’m sorry”. 
His eyebrows furrow.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says. “Your apologies mean nothing to me”. 
Your heart stings, and it is unusual. He is unusual, painfully real unlike all the times you've pretended to hate each other just for the dynamic.
Blame it on the alcohol, or the stress he has been feeling lately, or the fact that you've been nothing but a brat these days, but Hyunjin is angry. And hurt.
“Your actions, on the other hand,” it's all he tells you with his bright eyes boring into yours. “I want you to show me how sorry you truly are”. 
“Wha-”
He maneuvers you from the floor to his bed, forcing you on your back against the sheets you've grown to know fairly well. Your body writhes under him, and you fight back the urges to wrap your arms around his neck and force his body close to yours. 
“How- am I supposed to show you?” you ask in between the struggle, moving your body to Hyunjin’s will. With your help, he unbuttons your jeans and scatters them along the floor, just like your blouse and underwear.
He lets out a soft scoff, blowing air through his nose, amused. "As if you don't know me that well".
And because you know him well, you can't avoid the eerie feeling of fear that settles up in the deepest pits of your chest when his cold gaze makes contact with yours.
“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, with your heart ringing loudly in your ears.
“You should be asking what you're going to do for me, instead,” he murmurs, caressing the sides of your body with a creepy delicacy that doesn't match his demeanor at all. "Don't you want to be forgiven?" It's a rhetorical question, you know that much. And you do want to be forgiven, but you're not quite sure what twisted idea Hyunjin has of an apology. 
So you stay quiet, and hope for the best.
“You said you wanted me, right?” He asks yet again, fixing his eyes on yours. You just nod. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Yes,” you rush to say, “yes, I said I want you”. 
“How bad?”
The endless teasing is making you frustrated, but you're used to that. However, you're not used to feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes with each second that passes by.
You need him desperately. You need his kiss, and tongue, and hands on every part of your body that you'd never allow anyone else to touch.
No matter how much you say you dislike Hyunjin.
“So fucking bad,” you cry out, kicking you head back against the pillow.
Hyunjin hums, peppering wet and sloppy kisses over your tummy and inner thighs. You feel his breath so close to your wet center that you can only hope he gives you the attention you need. 
But that is not going to happen any time soon, and you know that.
“Fuck yourself,” he commands you, kneeling between your spread legs on top of his bed, “prove to me that you want me”.
You know the catch, know why Hyunjin is asking you such a thing.
He never does, unless he wants to punish you. And albeit not a rough punishment, there's nothing sweeter than watching you fall apart in frustration, to watch you deny yourself because he said so, to see you squirming in pain because you overstimulated yourself.
But then again, you'd do anything he says, just to be one step closer to him.
So you comply, with your index and middle finger shaking in anticipation as they make contact with your folds. Slowly but surely, you start fulfilling his demand —bitterly, with a look of disdain. 
One of his hands spread your legs further, and he stays kneeling between your thighs as he watches you. 
Impatient, eager, angry.
“I don’t have all day,” he finally snaps after a good 30 seconds of you just timidly teasing yourself. You can’t admit it out loud, but it is embarrassing —to have his eyes all over you but not his hands, to have your legs spread for someone who has no interest in touching you.
It's also embarrassing how wet you are by all of this. By his attitude, his anger and his jealousy.
“Sorry,” you barely mumble, sinking two fingers inside your throbbing pussy. 
You feel nothing. Not pain, nor pleasure. Just nothing.
“One more,” Hyunjin tells you and you comply. But after getting used to him and his size, nothing fills you up anymore. 
“You don’t- you don’t expect me to come just by this, do you?” You ask with a nervous scoff, biting down on your lower lip as you pull your fingers out just to thrust them inside again.
Hyunjin doesn't answer, and that only fuels your anguish even more. Instead, he fixes his eyes on your fingers, and the way they glisten with your wetness. He focuses on the sounds they make, and how warm you must feel after all the teasing.
You let out a whine, but it is not out of pleasure. It's a frustrated whine, a desperate one. You kick your head back, and fuck yourself harder with your fingers.
All your efforts are pointless.
“Don’t you dare,” Hyunjin warns you when your other hand slips to touch your clit. 
“I- I can’t just come with this,” you groan.
“How is that my problem?” 
It is humiliating —the way he is looking down on you, the way he is clearly amused by how stupid you must look right now touching yourself without feeling anything.
“Keep on going,” he tells you, licking his lips, “you won’t stop until you come”.
You shake your head and kick it against his pillow, trying to go impossibly deeper in hopes of finding that spot inside of you that only Hyunjin seems to know well.
Again, pointless.
“Come on,” you whine, now really on the brink of tears, “don’t do this to me”. 
“You did this to yourself,” he simply says, and his digits graze against your naked legs. 
The stimulation on your flesh is enough for you to clench around your fingers, and Hyunjin lets out a twisted smile when he sees the goosebumps flowering.
“Hyunjin”. 
“Can’t come by yourself?” He asks with a fake empathy, “you need me for that, right?”
You know where this is heading, and you’re willingly letting him lead you that way —you nod, swallowing thickly. 
“Yes,” you admit, hoping such a confession is enough to do something. Anything.
“Am I the only one who can make you come?”
“Yes, Hyunjin,” there's an inner conflict between your lust and your ego —you wish to fight back, but your mind is already surrendering. Your answer isn't far from the truth anyways, so why is it so difficult to admit it out loud? “Yes, you’re the only one”. 
“That’s what I thought,” he whispers quietly, dragging the tip of his digits along your spread thighs.
You’re aroused and whriting in anticipation, You’re aroused and trembling in anticipation, your whole body is ready for him, anything he wants to give you, and he can tell.
That's probably the worst part of it all —your mouth can always voice how much you hate him, but your body will keep on betraying you every time.
“I can’t,” you murmur, relentlessly trying to get yourself to your high, “I can't do this on my own anymore, you're the only one who can”. 
It's embarrassing to admit such a thing, both to him and yourself —it's not like you're saying so just to get what you want.
You're saying so because it's the truth, because not even you nor your toys can get you to come like Hyunjin does. 
“Remember that every time you even think about being with someone else,” Hyunjin’s body hovers over you, fitting perfectly between your open legs. “No one is going to make you feel like I can”. 
You drown a moan when you feel his clothed erection pressing against your folds. The fabric of his pants is rough, but your body unconsciously grinds on it.
“Just fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling his warmth spreading from your chest to your limbs, “please, please, please”.
He needs you just as much.
And his intention was never to deny you, but to remind you that you belong to him. Whether you want to admit it or not, whether you even know it —your body responds to Hyunjin, and Hyunjin only. 
“Patience is a virtue, you know?” He scoffs, sneaking a hand between your bodies to slide the tip of his dick against your folds, “I spent all night looking how someone else got his hands all over you”.
You tremble underneath him, begging for anything he might want to give you. 
“It wasn’t a pretty sight, you know?” Hyunjin continues, “it kills me that no one knows you're mine”. 
Your heart skips a beat at his rageful words, as you breathe the same oxygen that leaves his lungs. 
“Hyunjin”. 
“I hate the fact that I just can’t kiss you when I feel like it,” he presses his forehead against yours, taunting your lips with his. “Can’t even fuck you when I want, without caring if someone hears or not”. 
There's a pinch of frustration and despair in his voice. Like he is asking you to read between the lines, to give some sense to his words.
“We hate each other, don’t we?” You remind him, digging your nails in the flesh of the sides of his body.
“Do you really think this is hate?” He asks, and presses his hips against yours. You feel his hardened length getting coated with your wetness, and you can’t help but moan. 
“Everybody thinks we can’t stand each other,” you wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him to make a move. And as if on cue, he gets what you’re demanding —he slides the tip of his dick in, so easily that it's hard to believe your body wasn't perfectly made for him.
“But no one knows what we do behind their backs, do they?” He asks, grunting quietly when he finally bottoms out, “they don’t know how good we fuck each other, how good we make us feel”. 
It's not the time to pause and reflect about the dynamic you've shared with Hyunjin over the past year. It's also not the time to think about what could happen if you were to reveal to your closest friends what you and Hyunjin have. 
It's exciting to keep things a secret, but you're not quite sure how long you can go without one of you getting tired of it.
It's not the time, and you don't dwell on it because you soon feel Hyunjin's hips slowly pulling and then bottoming out again. The sudden hit of his pubic bone against your swollen clit sends shivers down your spine, and you hug him tightly against you.
“Because you make me feel so good,” he murmurs, leaving a wet trail of kisses from your lips, to your chin and jaw, “so fucking good”. 
You clench around him at his words, and he lets out a raw moan. 
“You too,” you swallow thickly, “you too- make me feel so good”. 
“Just me?”
“Just you Hyunjin- fuck,” you bite down the flesh on his shoulders when his hips snap against yours, making your whole body jolt, “like that, fuck me like that”. 
With painfully slow but hard strokes, Hyunjin pounds his dick inside your wet pussy.
The lewd noises it makes, paired with his skin hitting yours, drowns his bedroom. They also drown the bustle behind the door, the faint voices of those who are still outside partying and drinking.
Those who don't know how much you love fucking Hyunjin, and how much he loves fucking you.
“I have to make sure it's only me who gets to have you like this,” and with that being said, he sinks his teeth and nibbles at the flesh where burgundy and purple bruises rest. 
You arch your back in pain, feeling your neck burning. He holds you in place as you writhe beneath him, placing all his weight over you to prevent you from squirming away from him.
“It’s just a little pain,” his soft voice coos, grabbing the sides of your neck with one of his hands while his lips attack the love bites made by someone else, “nothing compared to what you made me feel tonight”.
Your heart starts beating faster at his words.
“I’m sorry,” tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you still let Hyunjin mark you. 
You want him to, anyway. No matter how painful it can be.
“I know you are,” he hums, satisfied with the way you’re clenching around him. 
He kisses your flesh softly, trying to soothe the pain away, and you move your hips, desperate to have him moving inside of you again.
He loses no time into it, holding his weight back off of you to continue on fucking you.
“You look so pretty now,” he twistedly smiles, with a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead and nose, “my lips and teeth look so good on you”. 
The minute he bites down his lower lip and his eyes go blank, you start feeling the tension building up inside your abdomen. You’re close, and you’re desperate to come.
“Hyunjin,” one of your hands holds his bicep, while the other makes a mess of the bed sheets beneath you.
“Not yet,” he warns you, and at that you let out a frustrated sound, “hold it a bit longer, come with me”. 
You close your eyes shut and kick your head back, hoping that if you don't look at him, you can prolong the time before you come. But he is fucking you so good, and his dick is hitting all the right spots inside of you, that you really don't think you can hold it as long as he wants you to.
“Please,” you cry out, this time tearing up. You can’t help it —the tears fall from your closed eyes without a warning. They stain your cheeks, and get lost in the crook of your neck that is still burning with Hyunjin’s love bites. 
“Open your eyes,” his hand cups your face, and you snap them open as a reflex, “let me see you crying”.
His words ignite a fire inside you, just as much as your tears do to him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clouded eyes and the way they beg for his release.
It’s the first time he sees you cry, 
and it shouldn't arouse him as much as it does. He knows what's behind those tears, and maybe that's the reason why he is enjoying them.
Frustration, rage, despair, attraction, obsession, infatuation.
He buries his nose on the flesh of your cheek and kisses your tears, one by one, as he continues pounding himself inside of you. 
“Can’t-” you murmur, digging your nails on his shoulders. Hyunjin hisses at that. “I can’t hold it”. 
“Give it to me,” he finally exhales, increasing the movements of his hips. And you comply —you give your orgasm to him, squeezing his cock almost aggressively. Your body trembles and he hugs it tightly, fucking you through your high as he comes with you.
“Fuck, Hyunjin,” at one point, your body goes limp —the pleasure becomes too strong that you melt into his arms. 
He moans your name, over and over again, until his voice becomes a whisper, and his hips relax into yours. His body rests on top of you, hugging you, pressing kisses to your forehead and temples while you wrap your arms around him. He doesn't pull out, and you don't want him to —at least not yet.
Sex with Hyunjin always goes a little bit like this, but it never feels as intimate as it does right now.
Your sweating bodies are pressed against each other, and your hearts are beating at the same rate. Your mouth tastes like red wine, despite you not having drunk any, and Hyunjin’s chest smells like your perfume. 
The crescent moon-like imprints from your nails are still pulsing on his shoulders and back with desire, and your neck still burns with his possessiveness.
It seems as though you two are one, and it is impossible to deny it.
If hate is another synonym for infatuation, you might as well be willing to hate each other until death.
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miguelsslvt · 8 months
Text
miguel o'hara x goth girl! spider! reader smut drabble
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word count: 756
TW: nsfw, smut, overstimulation, y/n gets fucked dumb, creampie, fingering, spanish translated from google translate so it isn't very good i'm so sorry. and also it isn't exactly stated that y/n is 'goth', it's literally just heer style and i hate it sm that i write it like that i'm so sorry.
A/N: so basically i got requested to do a college au! goth girl x reader but i didn’t read the ‘college’ bit and i got a bit carried away so… here’s the shitty goth spider! reader whilst i try writing the college au!! anyways two posts in one night?? ahh! this is severely unedited and not even proofread, so i hope i did okay! i can always rewrite if you don't like it:). also i love doing requests so much, so pls give me more! welcome to the club! ^^
you were a smart girl. well, smart enough to notice the looks miguel gave you everytime you walked around spider society wearing your favourite black dress and fishnets. and you would be lying to yourself if you said the attention didn't make your legs tighten in anticipation.
you had your eyes on miguel since the first time you laid eyes on him when he recruited you. was it your everlasting hunger for male validation? maybe. was it the way his fingers flicked through tab to tab on his platform? most likely. was it the hunger you noticed in his eyes when he trailed his eyes along your figure? absolutely. that's why on the day you were supposed to come to miguel for 'monthly anomaly reports', you made sure to wear the short black skirt and fishnets you knew that would miguel drool. what? just because you were pretty didn't mean you were stupid.
after a beautiful walk around the graveyard near your home, placing some flowers on some empty graves, you decided to go back to the spider HQ, playing your favourite band, 'bauhaus'.
'spider goth. miguel would like you in his office.' your watch alarmed, as your smiled at lyla, nodding. before you walked into the office room, you made sure to fix your eyeliner so it didn't look too 'smoky' but smoky enough. you fixed your silver necklaces in place, as you walked in. 'yes miguel?'
fuck, that voice. miguel thought. he turned around slightly to take in your body. god, he could feel his dick twitch from just the sight of you. was it even normal to feel this way? 'sir? you seem a little.. distracted.' you said, tilting your head slightly. he smirked. if miguel was completely honest, he knew you knew how he felt about you. and the fact that you still continue to wear such provocative clothing around him, and the fact that you always give him that 'innocent' smile of yours was enough for him to know you enjoyed the attention.
'oh i think we both know why i'm distracted, spider goth-' 'y/n.' you cut him off. he seemed a bit taken aback. 'excuse me?' he asked. 'for you, it's y/n, sir.' you replied, walking up to his platform, your skirt riding up slightly as you sat on his desk.
god, he could take you right there. so he did.
✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩
'm-miguel!~' you moaned, eyes rolling back as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. your back was arched against the desk, as his hands held your hips roughly. your eyeliner and makeup was ruined, all over your cheeks as they were filled with tears. your fishnets were ruined, as your skirt was hitched up just above your ass, as miguel groaned in relief.
'god you don't know how long i've wanted this.. mi niña bonita~' he cooed, smirking as you gasped for air, holding onto the desk. (my pretty girl)
you had lost count on how many times miguel made you cum in just one hour, but right now you couldn't care. your legs were numb, mind was fuzzy and you could swear you were seeing stars. you fucked out dizzy expression urged miguel further, chasing both of your highs.
'g-god m-miguel g-gonna c-cum again..!' you moaned loudly, as miguel leaned closer to your ear, moving your jaw so he could see your dumb face.
you were drooling, crying, your hair and makeup was a mess. and mguel didn't think you could get any more prettier then this. god, and the way you clenched and gaped around him made him cum almost instantly. but he would wait. 'cum for me, that's it.. jodido tan tonto que ni siquiera puedes pensar, ¿verdad?' he teased, as he thrusts became sloppy once again. (fucked so dumb you can't even think, right?)
you reached you peak, letting out a loud gasp, as miguel held your jaw,his nose in your neck as he whispered to you. 'thaat's it.. that's my girl.. there you go..' he praised, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible as he let his load in you.
it was alot, as you came down from your high, panting for air. miguel groaned as he pulled out, leaving a string of his cum and your juices out. he just let a deep breath, tutting. 'ay.. no.. mi dulce chica.. you're supposed you keep it inside. looks like i'm gonna have to plug it back in.' miguel said, sticking his finger inside you, making you squeal in overstimulation. (my sweet girl)
'let's take care of the mess you made, yeah?' he cooed, as you nodded mindlessly. there was one thing miguel will never admit, though.
and that's miguel likes it messy.
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎
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angelicvity · 4 months
Text
unspoken longing, minatozaki sana x fem reader.
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genre : fluff, angst, friends to lovers
sypnosis : constant rejection makes you decide to avoid sana at any cost. what will happen if sana realizes your absence and confronts you for it?
a/n : happy belated birthday to our sana, i was supposed to post this yesterday but something comes up. anyway this is really shitty but pls enjoy <3
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it was another ordinary day at college, but for yn, it felt anything but ordinary. the weight of unrequited love had become a burden she could no longer bear. countless times, she had confessed her feelings to her friend — sana, only to be met with rejection. but today, yet again yn determine to confess her feelings towards the latter.
yn's heart pounded in her chest as she stood in front of sana's class, waiting for the beauty to finish her class, her hands trembling with anticipation. she had gathered all her courage to confess her feelings once again, hoping that maybe — just maybe this time sana would finally reciprocate it.
after what feels like years, sana's figure finally appeared and yn approached her. "hey sana, there's something i need to tell you," yn began, her voice filled with nervousness. "oh, hey yn, what is it?"
"i've been carrying these feelings for you for a long time, and i can't keep them to myself any longer. i... i like you, sana."
sana's eyes widened slightly, her brows furrowing as she processed yn's words. she let out a soft chuckle, assuming it was another lighthearted moment between friends. "oh, yn, you're always so sweet. i really like you too! you're an amazing friend."
yn's heart sank, the weight of sana's continuous obliviousness hitting her hard. she tried to hide her disappointment, forcing a smile to mask her true feelings. "haha... yeah. anyway, i've got to go, see you sana."
with mixed emotions, yn turned and walked away, her heart aching from the unrequited feelings. yn was exhausted, tired of pouring her heart out and yet again receiving nothing in return. so she had made a difficult decision to finally move on from sana, which is by — distancing herself from sana. and so the process of moving on started.
in the days that followed, yn focused on avoiding minatozaki sana at all cost. from ignoring sana's hellos to avoiding eyes contact with sana.
as yn walked through the bustling hallways, her eyes caught a glimpse of sana chatting and laughing with their mutual friends — myoui mina and hirai momo. the ache in her chest grew stronger. she missed the warmth of sana's presence, the way her smile could brighten even the darkest of days. but yn remind herself that she couldn't continue living in a cycle of heartache anymore.
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days turned into weeks, and yn's absence did not go unnoticed by sana. her heart felt heavy and her mind felt confused with yn's sudden distance.
"did i do something wrong?" sana huffed. "quit complaining and just confront her about it sana" mina said. "yeah, you should do that instead of whining about it to us every damn time." momo complained.
the trio are currently in mina's apartment — having a study session that quickly turned into sana pouring her life problem session.
"you don't get it, its just so sudden you know? did she find out about my feelings towards her?. is that why she started avoiding me? she won't even look at me anymore. guys please help me." sana continued rambling. "like i said sana, confront her about it. you won't know what happens to her if you keep complaining and do nothing about it." mina said frustrated with sana's whining.
"fine ugh, i guess i will." sana rolled her eyes as her mind kept wandering about yn.
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the next day, sana mustered her courage to confront yn. she found the latter sitting alone in the campus library, her gaze fixed on a book but her mind clearly elsewhere.
"sana?" yn looked up, surprise evident in her eyes.
sana took a deep breath, her voice laced with vulnerability. "yn, why do you keep avoiding me? did i do something wrong to you? please tell me if i did something wrong to you. i miss you yn."
yn couldn't ignore the longing in sana's voice, but her heart was guarded. "sana, you did nothing wrong. i've been busy with assignments and projects, that's all. "
sana's brows furrowed, her eyes searching yn's face for any signs of deception. "yn, i know you well enough to sense when something is bothering you. jt feels like there's a wall between us, and i don't know why so please, be honest with me."
yn's gaze faltered, her heart feeling heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. she took a deep breath, gathering her courage to share her true feelings.
"sana, i can't bear this distance between us any longer," yn confessed, her voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. "the truth is, i have feelings for you. more than just friendship. every time we're apart, i feel a void in my heart, and i miss you more than words can express."
"and i've been avoiding you because i thought we couldn't be more than friend, with your constant rejection, moving on is the only thing i could do."
sana's eyes widened in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. she hadn't expected yn to have the same feelings. a sense of relief filled her chest.
"y-yn, i didn't know... i didn't think you'd felt the same way," sana stammered, her voice filled with a mix of astonishment and joy. " and i'm so sorry, i've been rejecting you because i never thought you would like me back, its just too good to be true."
sana took a step closer, her eyes shining with sincerity. "yn if you're willing, please let me take you out on a date."
yn's guarded heart melted, her voice filled with a newfound happiness. "sana, i'd be crazy if i said I don't want to."
a smile spread across sana's face, her hand reaching out to gently touch yn's cheek. "i'm glad we're on the same page, yn. i promise i will take you on the best ever date you've ever had in your life."
and so, in the quiet corners of the college library, yn and sana embarked on a new chapter of their relationship. and in each other's presence, yn and sana found solace, blissfully content in the knowledge that their unspoken longing had finally found its voice — a love that would flourish and endure for a lifetime.
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the-modern-typewriter · 7 months
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You're writing is amazing!! <3 If possible, is it alright to do something focusing on an embarrassed/shy sidekick that got injured in battle, and has to let the (flirty) hero tend to their wounds/wash hair/feed them because of how weak they are at the moment? Bonus points for a very touch starved sidekick, and some tension.
"Sit down."
"It's fine, I can-"
"Sit." The hero met their eyes. "What sort of mentor would I be without giving you the appropriate post-battle aftercare?"
"You don't have to phrase it like that," the sidekick mumbled. They did sit, though.
"What?" The hero grinned, opening up the first aid kit. "Aftercare?"
The sidekick looked down, horribly aware of the heat radiating off their face.
The hero laughed quietly; warm and fond.
"The injuries aren't that bad," the sidekick said. "I'm just tired." So very, very tired. Their limbs felt like melted marshmallows; pitiful goop.
"Mm, no wonder. You were very impressive out there."
"Just doing my job." They shivered as the hero began to make quick work tending to their minor wounds, touch warm and strong and confident. They tried not to lilt into it. They blamed the exhaustion in the fact that they did.
"And now I'm just doing mine, hotshot."
The hero pressed closer, shifting so that they could take the sidekick's weight. They stroked their fingers, entirely unnecessarily, entirely lovely, through the sidekick's hair.
The sidekick's eyes fluttered closed. A small, embarrassingly needy sound left them. "S-sorry."
"Don't be. You're sweet."
"I'm useless like this."
"I think it's adorable." The hero placed the last plaster over a cut on the sidekick's temple. "You never let me look after you normally. I like it."
"Well, I'm supposed to be supporting you...."
The hero pressed a kiss to the sidekick's temple.
The sidekick's eyes, for all of their tiredness, snapped open. They glanced up at the hero.
The hero smiled again. "Kissing it better. Did it help?"
The blush returned full force. "You're ridiculous."
"I could kiss the rest of them too. Just one might be a fluke. It's not scientific."
"So stupid." The sidekick covered their burning face with their hands.
"So cute."
"Don't tease me." It was another mumble; torn between the delicious squirming feeling that the teasing left in them and the sheer horror of it, that the hero might be mocking them.
They didn't think the hero was mocking them, though. They weren't the sort. Did they flirt with possibly everything? Yes. Were they unkind? No. But that didn't make it real. That didn't make the desperate rise of hope in the hero's chest any easier to bear.
"You are cute." The hero did a last check over the scrapes and scratches, before moving. They pulled the sidekick up into their arms, cradling them like they weighed nothing. "My cute little absolute devastation of a powerhouse."
"It was nothing." The sidekick clutched hold, stomach swooping.
"You saved my life."
"You save them. I save you. It's nothing."
"Hey." Some of the flirting dropped. The hero waited for the sidekick to meet their eyes. "It's not nothing. Thank you."
The sidekick swallowed, but managed a nod.
The hero carried them through to the spare bedroom, and for all of the sidekick's flittering nerves, they were half-asleep by the time they arrived. Sapped of strength and energy. It made it easy to go along with the hero for once, to let them tuck the sidekick beneath the sheets.
The world felt lulled.
The hero caressed their cheek, taking another moment to study them, gaze intent.
The sidekick slid theirs away, breath catching.
"I'm not teasing you," the hero said, softly. "I'm quite genuine in everything I've said or done. I wouldn't tease you. Not like that anyway."
"Oh."
"Get some rest, hotshot. Good job today. I'll be in the other room if you need anything."
The sidekick wanted to stay awake. They wanted to tug at the string of the hero's earnestness, whatever the hell it all meant. Their eyes were already closing again, the room tunnelled at the corners.
Their last act was to reach out, woozy and weak, and take the hero's hand. It felt like the bravest thing they'd ever done. Far bolder than that day's fight.
The hero stopped. They mattress dipped with their weight.
"Okay," they said, stroking their thumb over the sidekick's knuckles. "I'll be here."
And, even when the sidekick woke up hours later, they were.
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elliespeach · 1 year
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play nice | ellie williams
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˗ˏˋ"i'm not incompetent, despite what you may think." ´ˎ˗
pairing: ellie x afab reader synopsis: ellie and you hated one another more than anything and you had successfully avoided each other for nearly two years before being forced to patrol together. the day you two endured happened to be a lot more than just patrol and despite hating your guts, ellie is determined to keep you safe. warnings: lowkey mean!ellie, scary men, ellie n reader defend themselves w guns (animal death), lots of swearing, being chased, being stranded in remote location wordcount: 6k+ author note: guysssss i love the fuck out of this trope i hope i did it justice, got a bit carried away w the wordcount but i like it that way cus i dont think this will be a series!
the early morning of the jackson crowd woke you yet again, groggy and hungover you squirmed out of bed. you were supposed to be off today, taking the day to rest and recover from last night but maria had other plans for you. she had asked if you could pick up a patrol shift, a route no one likes taking, for a guy no one really likes anyway. you said yeah because you owe maria a favor, hating yourself for allowing your one day off to be tarnished. 
grumpy, you threw on your usual patrol outfit. a heavy jacket, a sweater underneath, jeans and a trusty pair of boots. the clock read only thirty minutes before you were to be posted and figured you would stop on the way to grab breakfast. 
you gave sleepy hellos to your neighbors as you passed. a lot of them shoveling their sidewalks from the snow that blanketed the earth the night before, they would be doing it all day and suddenly you were that upset about patrol duty. it beats shoveling snow. 
entering the restaurant the smell of bacon and eggs filled your nose, making your stomach lurch in your body. the hangover really settling in, you almost opted to not get food. but you saw maria at the end of the counter, leaning over and chatting with the line cook. 
“mornin’ maria,” you plastered on the best smile you could muster at the moment. “who am i with today? i didn’t check the schedule.” 
maria’s face faltered, “so that’s why you said yes,” you looked at her confused. “you can’t back out on me now.” 
“maria, what’re you talking about?” you questioned, but with the expression on her face, you came to a realization that your day was about to get a whole lot worse. “i’m not going if she is.” 
she sighed your name, “you girls were friendly once, you can’t play nice for one day?” 
“ellie can’t play nice.” you stated as a fact. and it was. 
ellie and you had a complicated history, arriving in jackson only a few days after she did, you two had become an inseparable pair. what wasn’t obvious to everyone else at the time was that you both had feelings for one another despite being young teenagers. 
one day, in her garage, ellie and you had been listening to music together while she drew in her sketchbook. you had been watching her the whole time, admiring how talented she was. at this point in time, you knew she liked you as much as you did her–or at least you thought you did. when you tried to kiss her that day, she freaked out on you and pushed you off her bed in a hurry. 
you had felt betrayed by the only person in jackson you truly trusted with anything. you never spoke of it again, in fact you never really spoke to her again about anything. you two became distant, avoiding each other at all costs because when you were in close proximity you’d fight like cats and dogs. you couldn’t hold in your snide remarks and neither could she, but when she spoke her mind it was always more cruel than you could ever imagine. 
you hated ellie williams and now you are expected to be on a full-day patrol with her. you couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of day you were about to have, regretting any and all decisions that led to this moment. 
“so you play nice. i won’t ask you to work with her again after today, promise.” maria begged and you rolled your eyes accepting her offer. 
you said your goodbyes and maria handed you two sandwiches to go, hoping that a sandwich will fix the multiple years of hatred burning inside of ellie for you. knowing it wouldn’t work but not wanting to waste food, you obliged by taking the food and going on your way. 
your walk was slow to the stables, wanting to prolong the long day ahead of you. when you reached your destination you saw ellie at the end of the barn. she was patting her horse, shimmer, and readying her for the trip. “fuck,” you whispered to yourself before making your way over. 
as you approached her, ellie went stiff and turned her back. not you.
“maria got us these sandwiches,” you said plainly, holding out one of them to her. her eyes were dull, along with her expression and it made your blood boil. “well?” you asked, already impatient with her. 
“ate already.” ellie responded quickly before grabbing the reins on shimmer and leading her out of the barn.
you silently mouthed, “wow.” to yourself before packing the food in your backpack for later. taking your horse from his pen, you lead him in the same direction as ellie. you came upon the gate and mounted your horse before pulling beside ellie, stealing a quick look at her. 
ellie darted her eyes away from you quickly as she saw your head turn towards her, feeling a hatred burning in her chest and she thought she saw you roll your eyes in her peripheral vision. you’d never admit this, barely admitting it to yourself, but despite all the loathing you felt for her you still found yourself attracted to her all these years later. it sucks that she is a bitch, otherwise maybe you two would have been something. 
the usual spiel of being safe, record keeping and more was being announced but ellie’s voice carried its way over to you. “do you even know where we’re going?” 
you scoffed, “i’m not incompetent, despite what you may think.” 
she turned her head towards you, a fake smile splayed across her face. “i don’t think, i know.” 
“oh, fuck you, williams.” you spat at her, looking back towards the gate, not wanting to remember she’s right next to you. 
but she was, in all her rudeness. “don’t you wish,” she said casually in a mocking tone. you had to stop your mouth from dropping open at her comment. she knew exactly what she was saying to you, and it just confirmed that there is no fixing this relationship if she could make a comment that low. 
the alarms went off and the horses started to ride out of jackson. you followed suit, leading your horse out of the gate and turning right down the snow covered path. ellie followed behind you at a distance and you liked it that way. 
ellie was watching you from behind, steering your horse through the pathway. for some reason, she couldn’t pull her eyes off of you the entire trip to the first look-out. her mind plagued her with thoughts of you and she dared not to trespass into that territory again. coming up on the familiar look-out, she pushed the thoughts away and replaced them with the hurtful things you’ve said to her over the years which did little to comfort her either. 
“just wait, i’ll mark the book.” you said, dismounting your horse and heading into the small building. you had always figured it was a radio tower as a giant broken satellite was perched on the roof, slamming open the garage door you made your way inside. 
“i’ll come with, don’t need you fuckin’ up the book.” ellie remarked behind you and you rolled your eyes as she passed you, just having to be the first one to the log book and she was. she beat you to the pen and began writing that there was no infected in the area. 
as ellie finished writing, she searched around the room for you. you were standing by the window, eyes peeking into the binoculars overlooking the route you two were going to be taking. 
“lemme look,” she insisted, reaching up to snatch them from your hand. you pulled it away quickly, swatting her hand. 
“i’m fucking capable of looking through these things.” you nearly yelled. 
“you’re not even wearing your glasses, give it to me.” she growled beside you, again reaching for the binoculars as you held them away from her. 
“how kind of you to notice,” you said sarcastically, gently pushing her away from you. 
“you look better with them on, princess.” she hissed using the nickname she had given you years ago. it felt strange to hear it again, especially in such a negative way. ellie eventually gives up on taking the binoculars from you. you started to peer through them again, making out your path as she huffed beside you. she was acting bored, fake kicking the debris that littered the floor, leaning her back against the window staring into the room behind you. 
looking away from the view for a split second, catching her eyes you retorted, “you look better without them on, figured i’d at least try and have a good day.” a devilish smile washed over your face and ellie didn’t respond. you brought the binoculars back up to your eyes and they widened with fright. 
from your viewpoint you were able to see multiple men all on horseback and guns at their side, they weren’t jackson men as you would have recognized them immediately. they had blood stained clothes and looked like they haven’t showered in weeks. but the most disturbing thing you saw was a person, naked and shaking in the cold tied by their neck to one of the horses, being pulled along. this wasn’t a group to be stumbled upon by and they were right smack in the middle of your route about two miles from you both, getting closer to jackson with every step. “oh, fuck me..” you trailed off and ellie chuckled beside you. 
“like i said, you wis–” 
“ellie, look!” you hissed, shoving the binoculars in her hand but she wouldn’t take them. 
“no, apparently i can’t handle it or something!” she shoved them back in your hands. 
“ellie, would you just look while i radio the other patrols?” you basically begged and ellie heard the fear in your voice. knowing you would never let her see you this way, she sat up straight taking the binoculars from you. she watched as you ran to the table with the log book, getting your radio ready. 
she peered through them and saw what you did and ellie’s demeanor changed swiftly. she turned back to look at you, panicking because the radio wasn’t transmitting. “fuck, this stupid thing!” you yelled, banging it against your hands so hard you thought you might leave a bruise. 
ellie acted fast, throwing the log book into a damaged closet to leave no trace and picking up her backpack. “if we can’t get a signal here, we gotta move to where we can get one. the closest patrol is ten miles in the other direction, we can beat them there, they aren’t going fast.” 
she glanced at you, ready to move and you were frozen still trying to get the radio to work. she rounded on you and stopped yourself from breaking your own hand with the radio. “we have to move, okay? they won’t touch you, i promise.” 
her promise seemed sincere and in the moment you didn’t question it. you nodded your head and took a deep breath before she handed you her bag. you both sprinted to your horses, but not before ellie closed the garage with a loud thud. getting on horseback, ellie led the way, weaving in and out of trees staying off the path so as to not cause suspicion with the tracks in the snow. 
you followed suit, not letting her gain more than a few yards on you at a time. after about ten minutes of what seemed like endless trees you came upon an opening to a road. you didn’t recognize it, and as you came up beside ellie it looked like she didn’t either. you looked around desperately, fearing the men you had seen and what would happen to you both if they found you. 
“nothing on the radio?” she asked you, pulling her horse near you. 
“no, nothing.” you stated shakily, fiddling with the small radio. 
“shit,” she cursed aloud, but not loud enough for anyone else but you to hear. “c’mon, this way.” she led you down the road and as you came over a small hill a building came into the picture, a large building that looked like an old grocery store. 
as you were about to pull the radio from your back pocket, ellie and you both snapped your necks in the direction you had just come from. there was the distant sound of hooves, even in the snow and laughing that wasn’t the good kind. “they found our trail, in the building, now!” she snapped at you quietly and not seeing any other idea, you followed her. leading your horses into an empty window in the building and securing them in a locked office. 
the building was ransacked, absolutely nothing in sight but garbage and dead infected bodies. “if there is dead infected, this area must get patrolled,” ellie thought out loud, looking at the mangled bodies. 
“or they found it before we did,” you did the same, stepping over a dead infected woman. horses neighing outside brought you to a halt and ellie didn’t think twice about grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of view. shuffling past large empty boxes and even more dead infected there was a door labeled exit and ellie busted it open, shoving you inside before her. as she closed the door behind her, she heard glass breaking and men’s voices. 
you looked around in the small hallway, it was dark but you were able to see a small dim light peeking through a knocked over bookcase at the end. “ellie,” you whispered, pointing to the bookcase. quietly moving towards it, you started to lift up the bookcase revealing a large storage room with loading docks. placing the bookcase back down to block the entrance as quiet as you could. 
she nodded her head towards the loading doors, they were closed but not locked. you were about to lift them up for an escape when the exit door burst open and all that stood in between them and you two was the bookcase. you snapped your head in that direction and ellie grasped your arm, pulling you behind a large shipping crate. 
in good timing because as soon as you were secure the bookcase fell over with a loud bang that made you jump. you looked to ellie, who was trying to peek around the crate to catch a look. ellie saw three men stumble into the large room, guns and various other weapons on their belts. “come on out now!” one bellowed, causing you to grab ellie’s arm instinctively and she let you, not pulling it away in the slightest. 
ellie saw them looking around corners when one approached the loading doors, seeing it unlocked. “must’ve slipped out,” the brute snarled, fiddling with the door handle.”grab their horses, let’s go get their trail!” they triumphed, slowly leaving through the door they came in. the rest of their crew must be waiting out front, ellie knew this was your only chance. 
once the cost was clear ellie turned to you, “they’ll expect us to go through the back, let’s go back the way we came.” she whispered, taking her arm back. you nodded and followed her, she quickly moved past the bookcase and towards the door they had left wide open. seeing no one, and not hearing your horses she waved you on, exiting the grocery store through the broken window in which you had entered. 
coming back into the daylight their horse tracks went to the back of the building and you both took this opportunity to run into the trees on the opposite side of the deserted road. as you jumped into the snowy landscape, a horse neighed furiously. “hey! i see ‘em!” a grunty voice shouted and you and ellie took off running through the woods. you were following ellie, who was hoping this was the correct way back. but back where? where could she take you on foot they wouldn’t be able to catch up? the nearest patrol is miles out, but when you two didn’t show up for check in they would come looking. that could be hours before they find you, stumbling through the cold woods and ellie worried that you two wouldn’t make it through the night if you could get away from these guys. 
she pushed all of that away, focusing on the task at hand which was to get you away from them. you ran for a while, the woods came to life with sound, the horses behind you trying to bob and weave through the harsh trees, the heavy breathing of you and ellie crashing into the soft snow below you and the sinister sound of the men laughing as they narrowed down on you two. 
“keep running!” ellie shouted back to you as you passed her, she stopped reaching for her rifle and cocking it back. you didn’t listen, instead taking your pistol out at the same time. ellie was able to shoot down one of the men who had tried to flank them, his body tumbling down to the ground and his blood desecrating the pure white snow. 
focusing your vision as ellie reloaded her gun, you shot quickly. the bullet grazing one of the brutes in the cheek and he clutched his cheek as he barreled down on ellie–whose gun was jammed. you shot again, this time aiming for the horse’s legs and it went down before you could blink, hurdling the giant into a tree. he laid on the ground motionless as his buddies grew more angry, you grabbed ellie’s arm and she looked up to you with panicked eyes, slinging her forward in front of you she began running but not before checking that you were right behind her. 
hoping that the bodies of their friends would slow them down, you both sprinted away from the grizzly scene. ellie was in front of you, the tussle with them discombobulated her and she wasn’t sure what direction she was going in. everything was happening too fast for her to be able to stop and figure it out, and as she looked back to check on you and the proximity of her attackers she saw your eyes widen and as you screamed her name, she fell down an embankment. 
you didn’t think twice, knowing this would be a good barrier between you and your pursuers. ellie was already halfway down as you threw yourself down the steep hill, the trees spun around you and you couldn’t see anything. you could make out ellie as you tumbled, rolling uncontrollably and it seemed even faster than you were. it felt like years before you came to a stop at the bottom of the hill.
you groaned, lifting your head up and not seeing anyone following you. you put all your effort into sitting up and you clutched your side as you did. you cursed, your bag was missing, probably buried in snow somewhere and as you looked around you saw ellie. she was laying next to a tree, limp and moaning in pain. in a panic you tried to stand up but the pain in your side prevented you from moving even two steps so you crawled to her. “ellie!” you shouted, coming to her side. “ellie, are you okay?” you yelled again, shaking her lightly. looking back up the embankment, you didn’t see the men anymore and hoped they went to clean up their friends. 
as your eyes came back to ellie, she rolled over and in between big breaths she was able to get out, “hit.. the fuckin…tree.” she groaned, grasping at her limp arm. “fuck..my arm!” 
“c’mon, williams we gotta go,” you stated, looking around for her backpack since yours was nowhere in sight. you noticed it a few feet away and you used the tree to force yourself up, ellie saw you struggling and tried to get up on her own so you wouldn’t have to help her in your condition. taking her pack and slinging it on your shoulders you went back to her, she was leaning against the tree now, facing the embankment. 
you reached out your hand to her and you couldn’t read her face as she took it with her good arm, pulling herself up with a huff. your side screamed in pain as you trudged on, taking in short breaths even though you could barely breathe to begin with. ellie limped behind you, her limp arm at her side and every step she winced in pain. fully realizing you two were lost in the woods, you kept going in hopes of seeing jackson at some point. 
the men didn’t make any appearances and the further you walked the more you felt safe. the fresh snowfall that started was covering your tracks in the deep snow. walking in silence felt like the right thing to do, the adrenaline wearing off would mean bickering again and you liked the quiet sounds of the forest, and the occasional grunt from ellie behind you. the sun was nearly behind the mountains before ellie spotted a small hunting cabin to the left of your makeshift path. 
it was dainty, and probably only one room but as you both approached it, it was looking more and more inviting than the harshness of the cold you two had been enduring the last couple of hours. knocking on the door roughly and not hearing anything inside, you opened the wooden front door. it was small. the abandoned shelter was illuminated by the setting sun through the windows, you saw a fireplace that had more spider-webs than you’d ever seen. the “kitchen” immediately next to it consisted of a broken and ransacked fridge, a sink and only two cabinets. 
you smacked ellie’s pack down on the counter, and finally felt a smidge of peace. looking up and noticing there was no living room area in the single room, just a creaky wooden bed that ellie had sat down on still clutching her arm. you looked around and saw a wooden chair, smashed to pieces you shuffled over, taking as many as you could carry before tossing them into the empty fireplace. ellie watched as you did, wishing she could be more help but her arm was killing her and she worried it was more than just a break. 
she saw you wince as you bent down to pick up more wood and she had to look away, not being able to see you hurt for some reason. “we should splint your arm,” you suggested, tossing more wood into the fireplace but keeping a smaller, thicker stick in your hands. ellie just nodded and let you approach her and as you went to unzip her jacket she flinched back. “i can’t do it with your jacket on.” you snapped, your shitty mood pouring out onto her. 
she softened her face and unzipped her own jacket but needed your help taking it off completely. as you were slowly pulling it off her bad arm, she sighed deeply. her arm was revealed, having only worn a short sleeve under her jacket and you wondered how she wasn’t frozen solid by now. “jesus, els.” you breathed out as you looked upon her arm. it was black and blue all over, some spots were a bright yellow and you held back from gagging. the redness from being cold didn’t help make it look better either. 
“i’m fine,” she lied, not liking you taking care of her. “just make the fire first, would you?” 
not surprised with her attitude, you obliged because you were even still freezing. the sun was barely shining in the windows anymore and you knelt beside the wood and picked a few of the smaller pieces of wood. taking your knife, you whittled off sections, leaving them attached at the bottom to the main piece of wood to work as tinder. and as you worked, ellie watched. she admired your survival skills, remembering that this is what kept you alive before jackson. 
ellie and you knew more about each other than you’d ever admit. being as close as you two were for months, you often had long talks in her garage to distract yourselves from the mutual lingering feeling of longing for one another. but as she observed you working, she remained silent and you did too, feeling her eyes burning into your back. 
the fire bursted to life with flames and you backed away, feeding it more kindling from the broken chair. ellie felt the warmth from the bed and now that she wasn’t numb from being cold, her arm was feeling worse. she didn’t dare look down at it, you turned to see her struggling to find comfort. you took off your jacket, the cozy cabin becoming warmer with every second that passed. tearing at the bottom of your shirt got her attention, you ripped until you had a long enough strip to work with. 
taking the wooden piece that you are using as a splint you kneeled in front of her. “give me your arm,” you said, your hand hovering in front of her. she shuffled her body forward, inches from you and you gently stretched her arm out straight. her moans in pain were loud over the crackling fire, “i know, i know,” you comforted her and her groans stopped but were replaced with quick and short breaths. 
you aligned the wood with her arm, taking your ripped shirt fabric and started to wrap it around her arm. moans escaped her mouth, not being able to conceal how badly this hurt. “almost done…” you trailed as you tied a knot in the fabric to keep it in place. 
once you were finished, and ellie was about as bandaged up as she could be, you sat with your back against the bed. wincing as you did, your side still burning in pain that seemed to spread throughout your body. “lemme see,” ellie murmured, shifting off of the bed to sit next to you on the floor. you grumbled a small i’m fine like she had but she didn’t accept it. “let me see.” she said more sternly. 
you rolled your eyes, lifting up the side of your shirt where the pain is erupting from. she examined it, the bruising on your stomach was prominent and she grazed her fingers over your hot skin. you winced from her touch, her fingers cold on the burning black and blue. “told you, i’m fine.” you reinforced, pulling your shirt back down. 
“i promised you they wouldn’t touch you,” she whispered beside you, you heard the familiar aggression in her voice as it’s usually directed at you but this time it didn’t feel like it was. 
“they technically didn’t.” you recalled, staring into the fire. but ellie was gazing at you, her green eyes scanning the side of your blank face. 
“i should’ve seen the hill,” she shook her head, focusing her eyes on the fire like you were. “i told you they wouldn’t hurt you and now look. i swear to god if they ever show their face around jackson i’ll–” her voice turned sour and she stopped herself from revealing what she would do to them for causing you pain, and although you didn’t blame her for anything that happened today, you couldn’t help but feel angry with her and her sudden caring attitude. 
scoffing, you spoke, “i’ve been hurt worse than this.” ellie understood what you were implying and snapped her head back to you, hurt swimming in her eyes. 
“what is that supposed to mean?” she hissed back at you, her voice rising slightly. she knew exactly what it meant but couldn’t stop herself from getting defensive. 
you laughed in disbelief, “the way you’ve been treating me for years? does that not ring a fuckin’ bell?” your voice rising to meet hers. 
“you’ve been doing the same thing to me, so don’t act innocent.” her tone was sharp but calm and you hated her for her ability to keep her composure. 
“i never said i was innocent!” your blood boiling over, you looked at her, her eyes meeting yours before she darted them away. “if you hate me, hate me. don’t confuse me by acting like you fuckin’ care.” 
“i don’t fuckin’ care,” she spat, using her good arm to lift herself off of the ground. she did care. and it was obvious to you, but instead of arguing about it further you let her walk to the kitchen as she dug in her pack.
you remained silent in front of the fire and despite the pain you brought your knees to your chest for extra warmth, the cold disposition of your patrol partner sucking out any warmth the fire was giving to you. ellie tossed over a small ration pack of food harshly, and you reached to take it. not caring that she threw it at you because now that you were looking at it, you were starving. realizing you hadn’t eaten this morning like you intended to. 
ellie moved back near the fire, sitting in front of you but staring into the wall. it was quiet while you both ate, or better inhaled the food in front of you. “i was supposed to have the day off today,” you remarked, chuckling at the circumstances though not finding it entirely funny. “i shoulda just told maria to fuck off.” 
ellie turned to you looking confused. “wait, maria asked you to do this?” you nodded in response and she shook her head smirking, “she asked me last night if i could cover for–” 
“manny,” you both said at the same time. realizing maria had set you both up, and you both couldn’t help but not laugh about it. 
“she’s gonna feel so bad!” you laughed, and somehow it was the funniest thing in the world to the both of you in that moment. ellie was laughing harder than you had ever seen her and you realized how deeply you missed this side of her, and how long it had been since you did. was it shock? maybe, probably. but even ellie couldn’t help but enjoy the small moment after the day you two had. 
“she probably thinks we killed each other!” ellie added mid laughing, causing you two to remain that way for a little while longer. it really wasn’t funny, but in some fucked up way it was. after you both calmed down from the singular good moment you had had in years, ellie added, “i missed that.” 
“missed what?” you questioned, not wanting the moment to end. 
“your laugh,” she uttered, boring her green eyes into yours. “i know that’s not fair of me to say.” 
this was the ellie you remembered, before all the fighting she was always kind to you. she was thoughtful. and she cared about you more than anyone you met in jackson. she patiently waited for your response, trying to judge if you were still angry. “i think we’ve both said things to each other we shouldn’t have, els.”  she hid a smile at your response, forcing her eyes to the fire that illuminated the small room. after a small beat of comfortable silence, she turned back to you.
“i really am sorry,” she spoke again and you cut her off before she could continue. 
“it’s okay, really–” 
“no i mean– i shouldn’t have– we almost died today. you almost died and i just…” she trailed off, gathering her thoughts. “i wanted to kiss you that day too.” 
you looked at her perplexed, and as you opened your mouth to respond she talked again. “it’s complicated and i was just scared–” 
“scared of what, ellie?” you questioned her again. 
she lifted up her good arm, revealing her tattoo. bringing your eyes back to hers and she took note of your confusion. she shuffled over and sat beside you showing you her arm up close. “just look,” 
at first, all you noticed was the tattoo. the ink perfectly etched into her skin, but as you really looked at it you noticed small indents buried in an intricate part of the linework. you took her arm in your hands to examine it further. bite marks. they were old, but they were there beneath the tattoo, permanently altering her skin with a nasty scar. “what the fuck…” you whispered skeptically, tracing it over with your fingers. 
“i was fourteen, so don’t worry i think i would have been dead by now.” she joked, hoping to alleviate any negative feelings you had about this. she sat nervously next to you and if you weren’t holding her arm she feared she would be shaking. 
“what does this have to do with me?” you asked innocently, taking your eyes away from her arm but not letting go. 
“i thought if we had kissed that i’d infect you somehow,” she laughed thinking of the memory. “i really shoved you off the bed hard, huh?” 
“my ass was bruised for weeks, so yeah you did.” you laughed with her back and it felt like the last couple of years hadn’t happened. 
“awww, poor princess,” she mocked you playfully. it almost threw you off, being as she hasn’t been playful in forever but you rejoiced in it. 
“shut up!” you played back, throwing her arm out of your hands and back into her lap. ellie noticed how close you two were, closer than when you splinted her arm, and it made her feel safe. she brought her hand back up to your face slowly and you let her, she swept strands of hair behind your ear. “you’re not scared now, though?” you pressed on, catching onto her intentions. 
“oh, i’m terrified.” ellie spoke softly, inches from your face. she cupped your cheek in her hand and gazed at you lovingly, her eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. she felt her stomach doing flips as she leaned in to close the final stretch that separated you two, as she did, hard knocks pounding at the door pulled you apart from each other. 
the door opened, revealing a disheveled joel and tommy. “thank god!” joel exclaimed, entering the cabin. “we saw the smoke, you guys are five miles off the normal route. what the hell happened?”
they helped you both home and to see the medics and it was nearly a day later when you saw ellie again. you endured what felt like thousands of visits from friends and neighbors that wanted to wish you a good recovery, and they were sorry to hear what happened. you were put on bed rest for a few broken ribs and they all hurt severely anytime you moved. 
but when ellie came through your bedroom door, you shot up in bed ignoring the pain that was plaguing you. she filled you in on what’s been going on, rangers are out looking for the group of men that attacked you both and they think they have a good lead on the group. this comforted you, but not nearly as much as ellie’s presence. she had a fresh cast on her arm, and ellie pointed out that it was really itchy, making you laugh. 
“maria feels really bad,” she smirked, a small laugh escaping her lips. “but she’s gloating about her plan working.” 
“course she is,” you answered. she moved across your room and sat down on the side of your bed to face you, looking down to your hands and took them in hers. “we might have to put on a show for her, can’t have her head gettin’ too big.” 
“anything you wanna do princess,” she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “but first, rest.” 
you groaned, “i hate you.” 
“i hate you more, now c’mon lay down.” she gently pushed you back down into the bed and you scooted over leaving room for her. she snuggled up next to you as you laid your head on her chest, hearing her soothing heartbeat as she played with your hair and you both fell asleep peacefully. feeling nothing but safe with one another. 
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gemini-sensei · 5 months
Text
Baby | Hawk Moskowitz x Teen Mom!Reader
Chubby!Reader - Blurb - based off of this POST
I'm still uncertain about writing Johnny, so I hope this is alright. @sensei-venus <3
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It was an average day for Johnny; wake up, eat breakfast, teach karate, then buy groceries before going home. It wasn't supposed to be a long trip, just getting the essentials and something for the night, including a pack of Coors. He planned to be in and out of the store in five minutes. However, the last thing he expected to find inside was his student who had ditched class that day.
Hawk was a great student; he took every lesson and perfected it flawlessly. He was a great fighter, a champion even. Before that, he was a nerd, a rule follower, a nice kid, and some part of that old Hawk still lived somewhere inside of him. So it wasn't within his character to suddenly miss training for any reason.
So when Johnny saw the tall mohawk down an aisle, he wanted to know what was up. But someone blocked his path and the kid was gone before he could walk up to him. He looked for him for a little bit but it was as if he disappeared into thin air. He gave up after just a couple of minutes so he could go home and started making his way to the coolers, telling himself he'd deal with Hawk tomorrow - tear into him for missing an important lesson.
As he walked through the aisles, a child started crying and Johnny rolled his eyes. He asked himself why people brought kids to places like the grocery store when they and everyone else weren't going to enjoy it. The crying grated on his ears and he thought it was about time he got out of there.
The beer coolers were only a few feet away from the dairy section and by the time he got there, the crying had stopped. As he made his way to the Coors section, he heard a familiar voice carry over the aisle. However, it was strange and like he'd never heard it before; bubbly and kid-like.
"What do you think she'll like, this one?" the voice asked in a baby-ish tone. "I think so."
Johnny couldn't help but peek around the corner to see what was going on. He was flabbergasted to see Hawk - the most recent ATV champion and one of the toughest kids he knew - holding a chubby baby on his hip as he looked at yogurt. The baby held onto his shirt collar while chewing on her other hand with her gums. Hawk put whatever kind of yogurt he'd picked out into a shopping cart and smiled at the baby.
"Mission accomplished," he said, as if the baby understood him. She laughed anyway.
Hawk turned and took the shopping cart with one hand, holding the baby girl on his hip. He carried on down the aisle, turning the corner.
"What the Hell?" Johnny asked himself.
He couldn't help following behind, momentarily forgetting his beer. When he reached the end of the aisle, he peeked around the corner to see where Hawk had gone with the baby, seeing them looking at a little display of toy cars. The bubbly baby girl reached out and tried to grab one of the packaged toys, to which Hawk grabbed it and handed it to her.
"You want this one? I'm sure Mama won't mind if you get one," he said. She squealed happily, shaking the toy in the air with a tight grip. He nodded along as if agreeing with her happy screams. "Yeah, that's lots of fun, isn't it?"
He set her down in the shopping cart now that she had something to entertain herself with. Not two seconds later, a girl around his age came up to the cart and placed some cereal boxes inside. Then she smiled at the baby and Hawk before giving him a kiss on the cheek. He put his arm around her thick waist and pulled her into his side, returning the kiss on the cheek. Johnny could just barely see the baby between them, but she watched them with big, enamored eyes.
It was at that moment that Johnny realized that the baby looked like the girl and that she was the girl's mother. And if that was the baby's "Mama", did that mean Hawk was the baby's father? How the Hell did that happen?
When did that happen?
How had he kept all of this to himself?
As the couple moved on through the store, Johnny had seen enough and ducted back between the shelves. He slowly moved himself back to the beer coolers, body on autopilot as he took a deep dive into what he had just witnessed. He grabbed his Coors and then carried himself to the checkout line. He hated self-checkout and wished someone would come around to do this for him as he scanned barcodes whilst he tried to piece together how Hawk of all people had had a baby with someone, gone to school, gone to karate practice, and won the All Valley. It was mind-boggling to him.
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It was another day of training. Everyone was going through their stretches to start the day off right. Everyone except for Hawk, who wasn't there at all. It was another day of training without Hawk.
Johnny was a little peeved until he remembered what he had witnessed. But instead of letting it be, he walked over to Hawk's closest friends while they were stretching and chatting about whatever.
"Hey, did any of you know Hawk has a kid?" he asked. Not even a hello.
"What?!" "-are you talking about?" "Are you drunk?"
He glared as they all talked over each other, not appreciating their attitudes and questions. Though it answered his. "Oookay. So none of you knew about that?"
"What are you even talking about?" Miguel asked, giving him a questionable look. If anyone were going to know about a Baby Hawk, it was going to be him and Demetri first and foremost. "Hawk doesn't have a kid."
"Affirmative," Demetri said.
"I saw him just yesterday with a kid on him, talking all that baby talk crap," Johnny said. He crossed his arms over his chest, firm in his belief given what he'd seen. "His girlfriend even looks like she popped a kid out, ya know. All wide and still has the baby fat."
Sam's jaw dropped. "That's no way to talk about Hawk's girlfriend-"
"That we have no idea about," Robby interjected.
"That's just rude," Sam finished.
Johnny looked at her weirdly. "What? She isn't here?"
"That doesn't matter," Miguel clarified, then quickly moved on to the next - and more pressing - topic of conversation. "Hawk has a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, and a baby," Johnny said, becoming tired of running in these circles. He'd said what he said, told them the truth. Why wasn't that enough for them? "I saw what I saw, man. Hawk is with this... chubby" he cut a look at Sam and she didn't look totally annoyed by him, "chick, and they were all over each other and they had that baby. The baby looked just like her too."
"That doesn't necessarily mean that's her baby," Tory said, rolling her eyes and walking away. "This is literally too dumb for me to keep listening to."
"Yeah, maybe that's her sibling or something," Miguel suggested. He looked at Johnny. "Are you sure you're not jumping to any conclusions?"
"No way," Johnny told him. He racked his brain to make sure he hadn't overlooked anything, only to remember the cutesy talk between Hawk and his girlfriend that he'd overheard. "He called her 'hot mama' and shit like that, so I'm sure. I know it. That's his little family or whatever."
Demetri was unconvinced. "Not possible. If I was an uncle. I'd know it."
Sam crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. "I don't know. Hawk has been pretty secretive lately."
"And he's missing a lot of training without telling us why," Robby added.
"But before all of that started, everything was normal," Miguel said. He was also unconvinced, sure that his best friend would tell him about something so life-changing. "If he got someone pregnant, he'd wanna be there with her. Nine months and then some is a long time to even hide something like that, ya know?"
The group of teens stood divided and Johnny was proud of it for some reason. He was just happy to be right, leaving the teens to mull over the situation he had brought to them, sure of himself that he'd made the right call. They were ready to text Hawk and ask questions but before one of them could retrieve their phone, Daniel came out and started the class by calling everyone together.
It was a strange day after that. No one could focus, their thoughts all on Hawk and the unknown girlfriend and baby Johnny have brought their attention too. Except for Tory, who didn't let it bother her because, as she said, it was too dumb to pay attention to.
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to be continued?
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brenbofen · 7 months
Note
GAASPPP OMGGG VINCE I JUST GOT AN IDEA OH GOD
priest+exorcist reader x demon dottore holy FUCK ive always had a thing for sacrilege... religious corruption and shit like that... fallen to worship you instead, to open his eyes to the one true god, one who owns him, one who would give him salvation, one who graces him with blessing though he has ugly horns and tattered, blackened wings, one who will love him as supposed to the father above, one who would send him into eternal bliss
make him bite onto your rosary while you fuck him full, kiss on his horns, his scars and mumble sweet nothings like a prayer,, or call him things that sends shivers down his spine, make him claw at your skin while u punish him for his blasphemy, for his heresy... make a demon like him, violent and mad, into nothing but a slut for ur cock that will bring him into a realm of pleasure, something he deems as heaven...
basically taming this dangerous blood thirsty demon by fucking him to oblivion while being a the kind hearted priest u are 😇
oh god is this good for the monster theme??? I THINK I GOT CARRIED AWAY MY BAD... anyways take your time and have fun!!!
⤷ Sweet Words ✝︎ AMAB Preist Reader x Demon Dottore > Monster Luvrs Event
Vincent’s ramblings ଳ i couldnt hold myself back and am posting tbis a day early, im sorry guys 😞😞 also got a bit excited while writing this lawll
Featuring; Religious themes, degradation and praise, body worship, reader gets a little mean, spanking mentioned, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, slight p.rn with feelings??, biting and scratching, petnames (love, my love, baby), cumflation, Let me know if I missed anything!!
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You always noticed a particular individual in the back of your church. Every sermon he’d watch you, whenever you’d look away you could feel his gaze burning through you. However, he never seemed to care for what you said. When the choir would sing or church goers would gather for a group prayer, he’d stay seated in his little corner, never moving until your sermon was over.
You had also began to receive an influx of reports about demons. More than enough times would you find yourself within the residents of your small village’s homes, searching for a demon that always seemed to evade you. No matter where you went or how early you were informed of the demon it always moved on to another location by the time you arrived. It was frustrating.
Currently you were in your office reading through documents and signing paperwork, tiredness clawing at your mind. You sighed, gently setting down your quill and resting your chin against the palm of your hand. Work was beginning to impede on your sleep. You would spend long nights searching for that demon, then you’d return to your office to count donations and send off documents, tonight you finally got a break, only a small stack of paperwork to go through then you could rest.
You were so out of it you almost missed the knock on your office door. Quickly you stood from your chair, smoothing out any wrinkles on your clothing as you called out for “Just a moment.” Upon opening the door you were stunned, it was the man in the back of the church!
He wore a bird like mask that covered the top half of his face, you noted the only thing not hidden was the bright blue hair framing his face. He gave you a meek smile, bowing his head slightly. “I apologize for disturbing you at this hour.” He spoke softly, barely parting his lips as he did so. You waved him off, telling him it didn’t bother you and stepping aside to let him in.
He nervously walked into your office, looking around before settling on a chair you motioned to. “Please, take a seat.” You sat in the chair across from him, you saw how the man sat awkwardly, almost as if something were preventing him from sitting comfortably. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me in.” He folded his hands neatly in his lap, tugging on the fabric of his gloves. There was this odd giddiness in his voice as he spoke, a sickly sweet smile on his face as if he were trying to contain his excitement.
You nodded, asking him why exactly he came, the hours for confessions and personal prayers were over. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side.
“I wished to… see you.”
You laughed nervously, running a hand through your hair as you leaned into your seat. “I’m sorry?” You were confused, why would he not wait for when you weren’t working? The man shifted in his seat, hands gently curling around his hood. You bit your tongue as he pulled the hood down, revealing curving horns that sprouted from his head.
He was a demon. He was the demon you had been searching for.
You immediately shot up from your seat and stumbled over to your desk while keeping your gaze on the demon, your hand slid across your desk as you searched for something, anything, to protect you from the creature before you. He pulled his mask off, bright red eyes almost appearing sad as he moved closer to you. “Please don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm.” You had your back pressed against your desk as the demon’s gloved hand gently, so, so gently, grabbed your wrist. “What do you mean you ‘mean me no harm’? You’ve destroyed homes! You’ve killed people damn it!” The demon sighed, lips parted just enough to show you his sharp teeth.
He was so close to you. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath hitting against your neck as he leaned even closer. “I know I’ve done those things… but I only wished to grab your attention.” He brought his other hand to your hip, holding you in place. “I just was too afraid to face you when you’d come looking for me.” The demon pulled back to look you in the eyes, both hands now resting on your hips.
“So what do you want… uh—”
“Dottore.”
“—Dottore?”
The demon— Dottore smiled at you, releasing a soft sigh. “I’ve seen you with the church goers. You’re so kind to them, helping them with mundane things, giving them advice and even resources.” Dottore tilted his head to the side in thought, “So much kinder than any god may be… I know it may be foolish but, I hoped you could share a bit of that kindness with me?” You looked at Dottore like he was mad, a demon asking for kindness from a preist? He really was foolish.
But, you didn’t want to turn him away.
If you did, it might mean he would return to terrorizing your village. You brought your hands to the clasp of his cloak, “Very well. You may stay here while I figure out what to do with you.” You removed Dottore’s cloak, watching as his dark wings fanned out, fluttering slightly from his giddiness. He gave you such a big grin, burying his face into your neck as he spoke soft thank yous like a mantra. Such an odd creature he was.
No one could fault you for wanting to have a bit of fun with him, right?
You now had Dottore nude as he leaned against your desk, your hands trailing up his body, his clothing discarded somewhere in uour office. He had been staying with you for a few weeks now, and you couldn’t help yourself from playing with a pretty thing like him. He would’ve never thought the sweet preist of a church in a small village would have such dirty fantasies. He bit back any teasing remarks as you buried your face into his neck, he wouldn’t want to make you upset. Not now, not while you were being so sweet to him.
You pulled your hands from Dottore and smiled at him, squeezing his sides before taking a step back. “Turn around for me, love.” Dottore did just as you asked, shivering when your chest pressed against his back. You were able to slide your fingers into Dottore easily, chuckling when you heard him bite back a whine. “No one’s here but us, you can be as loud as you want my love~” Dottore nodded, groaning as your fingers slid in and out of his hole. You wondered if he was still stretched out from the previous night or if he had a bit of fun without you.
Dottore’s wings fanned out around you as you dug the pads of your fingers into his sweet spot, a loud moan spilling from his lips. You basically had all of Dottore’s body memorized, able to make him feel pure bliss anytime you were alone with him. He adored how you’d kiss his scars, telling him how he was such a lovely thing as you’d slowly finger him. The way you’d laugh in his ear at his moans and whines, teasing him for how easily he’d melt in your hands. But he loved how easily you’d switch from being sweet to mean.
Anytime you’d harshly slap Dottore’s ass, saying such degrading words to him as you rammed your fat cock into his tight hole, it was heavenly. Dottore would always have his head thrown back, desperately clawing at anything he could get his hands on as you’d pump load after load into his greedy hole. The way you’d laugh in his face when he cried after you pulled out to watch your cum spill out of his puffy hold, clicking your tongue at his pleas for you to keep fucking him and fill him back up. Oh, and how once you finished you’d kiss his marred face gently, praising him for being so good to you before cleaning him up.
He loved you, so, so much. Could you blame him for worshiping you and your body like a god? You surely didn’t mind.
Dottore was ripped from his thoughts by you pressing your fingers basically knuckle deep into him, crying out as you made scissoring motions inside of him. Dottore didn’t even notice the drool beginning to spill from his open mouth, desperately squeezing his eyes shut as you drove him to his first orgasm of the night. He heard you gasp slightly, Dottore whimpering as you pulled your fingers out. “You’re so sensitive today, how cute~” You squeezed Dottore’s ass then took a step back, admiring the demon bent over your desk.
Dottore could hear you unbuckling your belt, wings fluttering as excitement bubbled in his chest. You always thought it was adorable how his wings would flap when he was excited. You stepped forward once you pulled our pants and underwear down, rocking your hips and sliding your dick against Dottore’s ass. He whined at the feeling of your length dragging against his skin, pressing his face against your desk.
Dottore mumbled your name softly, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “Please turn me around, I-I want to see you.” You laughed at Dottore’s request but did as he asked, turning him around so he was now straddling your hips. You reached up and wiped the drool on his chin, smiling when Dottore leaned into your touch. “You ready?” You repositioned yourself so the tip of your cock was pushing against Dottore’s entrance, chuckling at his flushed face as he nodded, gaze trained on your throbbing dick.
You pushed your hips forward, Dottore biting down on his lip as you shoved your length inside of him. You were so big for a human, your sheer size and how wide you stretched him out making Dottore’s mind feel fuzzy. There was a constant flow of praise from Dottore as you pushed yourself deeper into him, slight tears beading in his eyes from the stretch. No matter how many times he took you he could never get used to your size. He didn’t mind though, a part of him loved the pain.
Once you were fully sheathed inside of Dottore you pressed a hand to his stomach, pressing against the bump in his tummy, laughing at the whine he let out. “It’s me~” You cooed, Dottore rolling his eyes, both of you knew this attitude was just a little ruse he put on at least try and protect his ego before he would go an moan like a bitch in heat on your dick.
Gently, you began to thrust in and out of Dottore, giving him a moment to adjust to your movements. Though, it wasn’t long before Dottore would be begging for you to move faster and you could never hold yourself back for long when you’d see Dottore’s pretty face, expression showing nothing but pure bliss.
You leaned forward and roughly kissed Dottore, something to distract him as you picked up the pace of your thrusts. He groaned against your lips, clawed hands finding home in your hair as you pushed your tongue past his lips. Dottore moaned as you pulled away, feeling you do a particularly hard thrust into him. “You’re clenching so tight around me, mhmm.” You trailed your hands up Dottore’s torso as you spoke. Dottore nodded nodding, only able to focus on the feeling of your cock forcing his body to make room for it.
It was funny, you, the sweet priest having a deadly demon that caused havoc throughout your little village only weeks later becoming your sweet cock-slut.
You pushed Dottore’s hair from his face and kissed the base of his horns, Dottore humming as he leaned against you. He was so clingy, always craving your touch. It would be cute, if not for the snarky remarks he’d say once he was satisfied with your attention. Dottore’s claws raked down your neck and settled onto your back, nails digging into your shirt.
You rested your chin on Dottore’s shoulder, the man shivering when your breath hit his ear. “Careful not to tear my clothes, I have a meeting later.” Dottore nodded, grip loosening just barely. You squeezed Dottore’s hips, grinding against him, pulling little whines from him. You did this for a bit, Dottore about to snap at you, wanting you to move just a bit more, only for you to stop all your movements and make him beg for you to just do something.
You weren’t sure how many times you repeated this routine before you got bored and began pounding into Dottore. He laid back onto your desk, arms covering his face as he leg out the sweetest moans, thighs squeezing and trembling around your hips as you fucked him.
You leaned down and kissed the scars covering Dottore’s body, mumbling praises against his soft skin, relishing in the little protests that escaped him between his moans. No matter how much you told Dottore he was beautiful, how often you gold him you adored every part of him, he would curse and bite back, saying you were insane for loving him so much, but he never made the decision to leave. Never would he reject you when you’d hold him in your lap and shower him with praise and affection.
Dottore gripped your arms tightly, claws digging into the fabric of your shirt and tearing it. What a shame. “You ripped my shirt.” You gazed up at Dottore, seeing the pout that formed on his lips as little tears prickled in his eyes. “Hahh, am I fucking you so good you forgot my directions?” You pulled out fully then snapped your hips against Dottore, the man crying out as his back arched off your desk. “So stupid n’ drunk off my cock you can’t even follow a simple order?” Dottore babbled out apologies, pulling his hands away from your arms as he cried, but you knew he liked it. He adored how quickly you’d go from praising him to degrading him, treating him like he was some cheap whore.
You scoffed at Dottore, squeezing his hips to draw his attention back to you. He looked at you with the prettiest red eyes, seeming as if they sparkles in the dim lighting of your office from his tears. “Clothing can be replaced, ‘m just disappointed you couldn’t hold back for just a little longer.” Dottore frowned, mumbling out a small “sorry.”
You knew he wasn’t sorry.
You sighed, leaning forward and kissing Dottore, feeling his hands rest on your shoulders, no longer caring if his claws tore your clothing. You began to bite and mark Dottore’s neck and shoulders, taking in all the little whines he released right by your ear. You groaned when you felt Dottore clench down around you, biting his neck to try and suppress your own sounds.
He felt so good around you, so tight and warm, you could never get enough of Dottore. You hummed, feeling your orgasm drawing closer and closer, mumbling in Dottore’s ear. “I’m gonna cum, you’ll let me, yeah?” You harshly kissed Dottore, teeth mashing against teeth, your tongue feeling along his sharp teeth, “You’ll let me cum in you, baby?” You smiled when Dottore let out a weak “Yeah.” leaning forward and kissing him once again, your thrusts becoming fast and uneven, only thought in your mind being how badly you wanted to fill Dottore up.
You pulled away from Dottore’s lips and pressed your forehead against his, letting out an airy moan as you released inside of him. Dottore came shortly after, rolling his hips against you as he rode out his high, his head thrown back as he gripped your shoulders tightly. It wasn’t long before you were moving again, now harshly thrusting against Dottore, never letting up as you stuffed your cum deeper and deeper into him, filling him up to the brim. You could see his tummy becoming round and almost appearing bloated with how much cum you stuffed into him, some of it spilling out with each of your thrusts.
Dottore couldn’t complain, not when he felt so good and was so fucked out. He might have wanted to make some snarky remark, tease you for always wanting to fill Dottore up so you could watch your cum spill out of his hole, but at this point he couldn’t. The only thought on his mind was how good he felt, how amazing it was to be filled with your warm cum and how he loved your dick inside of him. Dottore honestly wasn’t quite sure how many times he had cum himself, only focused on you filling him.
You sighed after releasing in Dottore, not sure just now many times you had. Stumbling back, you pulled him into your lap as you sat in your chair, running your hands though his hair. Dottore pressed his face into your neck, gently kissing and nipping your skin. “You’re always so clingy when we finish.” Dottore scoffed, pulling away so he could look at you, wings stretching out behind him as his back popped. “Shut up.” His voice was hoarse, tears and drool dried on Dottore’s face, he didn’t seem to care though.
You shrugged, wrapping your arms around Dottore and pulling him into a hug, playing with his hair and occasionally petting his soft wings, Dottore humming against you. “How long until your next meeting?” You glanced at the clock on your wall, humming to yourself as you thought. “Few hours, why?” Dottore smiled, leaning up and biting your jaw. “That’s good, I want you all to myself for a bit.” You chuckled at Dottore’s words, kissing the base of one of his horns. “I told you you were clingy.” Dottore scoffed once again but didn’t speak, simply burying his face into your neck.
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504py · 5 months
Note
Its me again (i hope you don't mind i am in you ask again 😅)
So uh do you have headcanon for yandere russia and canada with their s/o?
Thx 🌻
holy SHIT i got carried away 😭😭😭 this was supposed to be a short post, but i got too deep into their characterization. and don't worry!! i appreciate your asks! anyways, here we go guys... please heed the warnings!
Yandere Russia and Yandere Canada Relationship Headcanons
Gender neutral, domestic violence, implied NSFW, self-harm, manipulation, forced feminization, dubious consent, stalking, long post ahead!
┊͙✧˖*°࿐
Russia
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How the relationship started
Your relationship with Ivan first started with you doing some mundane thing, but he was there at the right place and the right time, and something about you intrigued him. Be it at a restaurant eating a strange food combination, seeing you early in the morning with your hair wet and rushing to get somewhere, or even getting a glimpse of your mismatched socks when you walked past him and didn't even pay him any mind. That was enough to seal your fate as his property. His mind can't seem to stop running with thoughts of you, how are you, why are you, and he needs to scratch that itch.
Ivan sends out a private investigator to stalk you basically, and provide him with your daily schedule. Once Ivan has your schedule, he dismisses the investigator, and takes matters into his own hands by stalking you himself, and trying to insert himself into your daily life.
Then, it was just a matter of getting to know you, courting you with expensive gifts and dates, then fully dooming yourself when you accepted him as your boyfriend.
Expectations
Ivan is very blunt with what he wants. Not very long into your relationship, around a month or so, he asks you to move in with him. Any sort of opposition or protest will be stonewalled by this; "We will be married and living together someday anyways. Why fight it? Don't you love me?"
So, whether you like it or not, you move in with him in his giant, lonely house.
There are no maids and none of the Baltic states to be seen, and this is because Ivan expects you to fulfill the role of a housewife, regardless of your gender. So he'd like for you to do chores yourself and to clean up around the house while he's gone. He doesn't expect perfection from your cleaning, in fact, he finds it a little charming when some areas aren't clean or spotless. His house was huge and you were only so small.
On the topic of fulfilling the role of his housewife, he expects you to do other things that make you fit the role even more, such as giving him affection, cooking for him, and keeping up a good front when guests are around. He wants the two of you to evoke the image of a traditional married couple so badly, and if you fail to meet those requirements...
Punishments
Ivan can be cruel. He doesn't tolerate rebellion very well, and his punishments are always physical.
He is a very touchy man, and if you fail to reciprocate his touch, or actively shy away from it, he'll only get more aggressive. His hugs will feel more suffocating, his grip on your jaw while he kisses you will feel bruising, and you swear, it feels like he's trying to crush your hand while he holds it, despite the sweet smile on his face..
If you continue to refuse him, he'll be much less subtle with his harm. One day, when you try to shove him away from you, his grip on your arm tightens to the point it feels like he might just snap it, and he pulls you close to whisper a threat into your ear; "Will you continue to be like this?"
If you say no and apologize, which would be your best option, he'll let out a strained breath and try to relax his clenched jaw, before letting up his grip on your arm and muttering an apology under his breath himself.
If you say yes... His jaw will tense up, and the look he gives you is bone-chilling. "Alright." He says, and doesn't give you much time to think before he drags you to the front door, and throws you out into the harsh cold, with only the clothes on your back.
You can cry and scream apologies and bang on the door all you want, but he's already walked away and drinking a bit of vodka to soothe his own nerves.
He'll keep you outside till you are on the brink of getting mild hypothermia. He waits there, thinking of how long it'd take for the cold to get to someone of your size and shape. He knows everything about snow, and he knows everything about you.
Right before you start to ebb in and out of consciousness, he opens the door, and drags you back inside, wiping the snow off of you and taking your weak, shivering body in his arms.
You cling to him, wanting to live in his house, his coat, and in his arms forever after experiencing the unforgiving hellscape that is the Russian winter.
Ivan mutters sweet nothings, the alcohol in his breath and the powdery smell of his clothing enveloping all your senses. He says that he wouldn't have to do this if you would've just obeyed him, that this is all your fault, and that he didn't want to do this and that he just loves you too much.
If you had any sense of self-preservation, you'll listen to him from now on, and if not... He wouldn't be above breaking a few bones. But you won't disobey him again, right? It's for your own good.
"I'm sorry, моя любовь.."
Rewards
Ivan is a very affectionate man, but he isn't the best at showing it vocally. He shows it in the lavish gifts and dates he goes on with you— Yes, he takes you out on dates. Only for special events or when he's feeling particularly affectionate, but he does it too because he feels he also has a role to fulfill as a doting, providing husband. He'd feel too bad if he just kept you locked up your whole life as his wife (and, also, he wants to test you.. He wants to see if you'll act up in public, and to see if he can trust you). Ivan feels it adds to the aesthetic of a married couple, too.
Besides that, he is INCREDIBLY physically affectionate. He has no sense of personal space at all, which may or may not be a bad thing to you, but regardless, what you think doesn't really matter, and he'll continue to invade it anyways.
He always calls you over to sit on his lap, he sleeps way too close to you, and he's always looming over your shoulder no matter where and what you're doing. As long as he's home, it's GUARANTEED he will be touching you in some way, shape or form.
Because of such things, Ivan is.. prone to getting intimate with you.
Unlike everything else, he actually sort of values your consent when it comes to the bedroom. Yes, he will make advances and be very touchy-feely, and maybe intimidate you a bit, but at the end of the day, if you keep refusing it, he'll let up, but his mood will noticeably be more tense.
Ivan is especially prone to this because clothing is one of his favorite things to gift you, he enjoys dressing you up in things he finds cute. And I mean literally. Whatever he buys for you, be it dresses, coats, or underwear, Ivan will want to be there to undress you and then dress you up in the things he bought himself. You're like his own cute little doll.
Regardless of your gender, Ivan will buy you feminine clothing and accessories. He may even be inclined to forcing you to grow out your hair.
He likes sniffing you. He rests his nose atop your scalp while hugging you, just to breathe in your scent. It calms him like nothing else in the world, and he feels alive again.
And during not-so-often times like these, he'll speak and voice his affections.
"I love you.. We are going to have a great life together."
࿐°*˖✧┊͙✧˖*°࿐
Canada
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How the relationship started
Matthew would be completely enamored by you just.. noticing him on a regular basis. Nodding your head at him whenever you two walked by each other in the hallway, mumbling a hello whenever you two sat next to each other, and the mere act of your eyes meeting his. Fully looking at him, and not just straight through him. It always left him red and unable to calm his heart for the rest of the day, so it was only natural he'd fall head over heels for you.
His crush on you kept festering day by day, with him being too shy to continue the little interactions you have, and having such little experience with socializing that he wouldn't even know how to continue furthering this "relationship."
Matthew is rather delusional. He spends his days fantasizing about talking to you, hanging out with you, being with you romantically, and, more often than he'd like to admit, rather impure things... all while you're seated next to him, or while you're across from him, a heady stare through his foggy glasses.
Eventually, Matthew starts to believe that you two were already in a romantic relationship, despite being acquaintances at best, and he starts to get really insecure. What if you forget about him someday? What if you stop noticing him, and you just disappear from his life? He believes that other people you notice, any other person you notice, will jeopardize that oh so special relationship you and Matthew clearly have.
So, Matthew bites the bullet, and asks you out for lunch one day. You smiled and blushed at him so brightly as you accepted, and at that moment, he knew he'd dedicate everything he had in his life to worshipping you.
Expectations
Matthew still puts in an effort to appear like a normal boyfriend, unlike Ivan, so your relationship with him would progress much more naturally.
That doesn't mean he hasn't been doing anything weird, though.
Matthew's already been envisioning what it'd be like to have a family and grow old with you the first moment he heard your voice. All you said was, "Good morning." So what more now that you two are in a real, established, romantic relationship?
He fantasizes constantly about clinging to you like a lifeline and crying about how much he loves you, and to hear you feel the same way he does. He wants to pin you beneath him, letting him do all the work, and showing you just how much he loves you, while whispering praises and prayers to you with a crazed, devoted look in his violet eyes.
You two have only been together for three weeks.
...If it wasn't apparent, all he wants is for you to always, always be by his side.
He doesn't care much for appearances or services like Ivan does. If anything, Matthew wants to be the one to do nice things for you, though he would like it too if you did nice stuff for him once in a while. Though, just kissing him on the cheek is enough to keep him overjoyed for like a week straight.
He spends a lot of time doting on you and trying to prolong the time you guys have together for as much as he can. Honestly, for the most part, Matthew would play the role of a normal boyfriend rather well, and your relationship wouldn't be really turbulent, except for, well...
Punishments
Matthew hates it when you have to go. Usually, he very reluctantly drives you back home after a bit of a fight, but he's just so pitiful you could never find it in yourself to be mad at him. I think he'd be the type to cry whenever you two had any sort of disagreement.
When he's lucky, he can get you to stay the night, which absolutely sends him on cloud nine, but it's not often enough for his liking...
Things would boil over, though, when you had to leave earlier than usual because you had to go to do something, like hang out with a friend, visit your mother, anything of the sort, and Matthew gets really upset.
He starts this whole thing of begging you to stay, that "Aren't I more important than them? Please don't leave." and he's tearing up, his shaky fingers holding onto your sleeve.
"Matthew, please, just for tonight."
"I-I don't want you to go, though."
Then he's crying. Harder than he usually does, and he's looking at you like a kicked puppy.
How could you still go after seeing him like that?
Matthew then learns that he can win you over with his tears. If he just cries for you, you'll stay, won't you?
He'd never lay his hands on you, but he'd constantly guilt-trip you and manipulate you for things to go in his favor.
Violence is something he'd see as a last resort, but it's still something he'd use against everyone else and himself, but never you. He hates to hurt others, but if they get in the way of him and you, he'll do it. I feel like people forget that, while nowhere as strong as Alfred is, Matthew is still a pretty strong guy. He wouldn't ever kill anyone, but he'd severely hurt them, and he'd be hiding his face the whole time.
And yes, he'd hurt himself for you. Those crocodile tears are bound to stop working on you someday, and when that time comes, he'll harm himself and say that he'll just keep hurting himself if you aren't with him.
Then you'll just have to run back to him, tend to his wounds, and reassure him that you still love him and that you'll stay.
...But if you keep trying to run, he'll have to just lock you up so you won't look at anyone else ever again.
Rewards
Matthew is affectionate in every sense, though he tends to show it through the way he wants to do anything and everything with you.
He's always holding onto your hands, massaging little circles into it, getting your favorite snacks when he does his groceries, drying your hair after showers, arranging dates and cooking and cleaning for you as much as he can. He's naturally very doting.
He does his best for you, he really does.
Besides acts of service, Matthew just likes to spend time with you. Lazing around with you on the couch, playing with your hair, and gazing right into your eyes like you were heaven-sent. He always has the most lovestruck expression on his face whenever he's with you.
"...You're the only one for me, you know that?" He mumbles, almost as if he doesn't know he's even talking.
And he says this next line with such devotion dripping from his voice that it makes your blood run a little cold.
"...I love you so much. Never leave me.."
┊͙✧˖*°࿐
(....guys was that decent. anyways! all art used is mine so if you're reading this, go give the original posts some love on my blog!)
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hoedamn-eron · 2 months
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shut up, kid
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You awake to your first Mother’s Day with baby Bateman.
Warnings: Nathan is honestly the only warning you need. I suppose some hints of breastfeeding too (a fed baby is a happy baby, whether bottle or breast). Actually proofread for once, but probably still mistakes that I missed. Word count: 750 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.
This was written VERY last minute (by last minute, I mean at 9:30pm on Mother's Day in the UK 😂). Anyway, happy Mother’s Day to all the parents out there! 😊 I’ve recently been very broody and very Nathan oriented, so I created this mostly self-indulgent fic (loosely based on this post from a few weeks ago).
I struggle to write Nathan, I feel like I can't get his personalty, or his demeanour right, so please let me know if I can improve anywhere! I want to write more Nathan!
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It was the sound of a loud, high-pitched, excited squeal, that woke you up.
“Hey,” came the voice of your boyfriend, sounding distant and muffled as the sweet caress of sleep called back to you. “I know we came to wake up your mom, but that’s not the way to do it. You want to deal with the dragon before she’s had her morning coffee? No? I fuckin’ thought not. Shut up, kid.”
“You shouldn’t swear at your son,” you muttered into your pillow, knowing now that sleep was just a distant memory.
“Ah, shit.”
You grin into the pillow before you look up, your eyes blurrily settling on your boyfriend, who had a mug of coffee in his left hand (in your favourite mug – one you got from a Blue Book convention back when you were in college, long before you met Nathan...Nathan hated it), and his other hand was occupied supporting your seven-month-old son, Silas, who was happily sitting on Nathan’s hip, still in his footsie pyjamas, chewing on his pointer finger. It was sickening how you carried the kid for nine months, and going through a 36-hour labour, sacrificing your body and your boobs (your nipples will never be the same again), for him to look exactly like Nathan.
You still love the bones off him anyway.
“Kid doesn’t know what I’m saying, it’s fine,” Nathan continues, coming over to you and holding out the mug. You take it, smiling up at Nathan as he leans down to you and presses a kiss against your lips, murmuring a ‘good morning’ to you before he straightens up.
He’s so hot. Even now, he’s just wearing some old sweatpants and a t-shirt (it even has a stain of old baby throw up, which you just couldn’t get out), but it’s the way he’s holding your son...it does things to you.
“Good morning,” you greeted back, taking a sip of your coffee. You nod at Silas as he continued to chew on his finger. “Lost another pacifier?”
“I don’t know what he does with them,” Nathan said, shaking his head, gesturing with now free his hand around the room. “Spend all my fuckin’ spare time trying to find that blue one that he refuses to nap without.”
“Language,” you tell him, take a sip of your coffee.
“Sorry,” he says, almost on autopilot. “I’ll request more for the chopper next week. Think 50 will be enough? Obviously fuckin’ not, he’ll lose them all within a week.”
You laugh as you shake your head at him before looking at Silas. “Is your dada silly?” you ask him in your most annoying baby voice.
The kid loves it. He smiles widely at you and kicks his legs in excitement.
“Anyway,” Nathan says, adjusting Silas in his grip as he looked back at you, evidently choosing to ignore your comment to your son. “Happy Mother’s Day, or whatever. I made you breakfast, your favourite. The kid had some, he loved it, so now we’ll probably have to make it for him every day. I’ll run you a bath and by the time you’re finished it should be ready. While you’re being a lazy ass in the tub and skirting your duties as a mother - “
You go to swat Nathan on the thigh, but he dodges you swiftly and carries on like he was never interrupted.
“Me and this one,” he nods to Silas. “Will work on some tummy time, see if we can start crawling today.”
“Not all kids start crawling at seven months.”
“Not all kids are mine.”
“Debatable, regarding all the sex you were having before we met.”
“You’re reaping all the benefits from ‘all that sex’.”
“You pig.”
“You love me.”
You do. God, you do. So much. But you’re not going to tell him that.
You take a gulp of your coffee, hiding your smile.
“Get your pretty ass out of bed,” Nathan said, already turning away from you, grabbing Silas around the tummy and tossing him lightly in the air and catching him, causing Silas to laugh that cute baby giggle he has that melts your heart. “Come and celebrate your first Mother’s Day.”
He leaves the room, and you laugh to yourself as you distinctly hear the sound of Nathan giving Silas a raspberry on his belly as he walks down the corridor, the squealing sound of laughter from your son following right after.
It sends a warm feeling of joy and happiness through you.
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elainavoid · 5 months
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LN4 - Thunderstorms
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Helllo lovelieesss! Seeing Lando Norris on my pinterest feed does something to me and I just want to write abt him all the time!! Anyways, with this post, you can see once again that i’m obsessed with rainy evenings even though it’s literally sunny outside in the middle of November lol. Anyways I hope you enjoy this one, love you <3
You were lying on the gray linen sofa in your living room. Snuggling with the soft blanket on you and watching some true-crime documentaries. Your home was all cozy and cute while there was a literal chaos outside. It was pouring, and you could hear the thunderstorms through the thick walls. You paused the video, and slowly walked to the kitchen area. Opening the fridge, you searched for some snacks, craving something sweet, you looked around, there was nothing sugary but a half-eaten dark chocolate bar. You sighed while closing the door. You threw yourself to the sofa, huffing in despair.
That’s when you heard a knock on the door. It was a very quiet knock, almost like the person who knocked was very shy doing that. But you were sure you heard something. Wondering who could it be, your brain went through every type of scenario. Maybe it was your downstairs neighbor? Maybe the apartment complex couldn’t carry all that rain and now there was a flood? But you would’ve known that. Walking up to the door, you asked “Who is it?” before opening. Maybe it was a serial killer dressed as a courier.
“Y/n…” His voice was breaking, “Can you open the door?” he sounded in despair, you opened the door to see Lando. His curls were soaked, the hoodie he had on was wet.
“Oh Lando.” You softly spoke, “Come on in, you are trembling.”
You invited him inside, stepping aside so he could enter your apartment. Closing the door behind him, Lando held out his arm to give you the bag. “I brought the ice-cream you liked. You know I- i thought maybe we could share it while watching something. I know we broke up three months ago but those storms really make me uncomfortable.”
You stared at his blue eyes, all of the memories you made suddenly rushing to your mind. And you remembered your first date with him...
“I hate thunderstorms.” Lando confessed. You laughed, “Really?” He shook his head while smiling. And that’s when you guys decided, you would meet at each other’s apartment whenever there was a storm, you would sit together, watch something while eating snacks.
Returning to the reality, you found Lando, waiting for an answer from you. “Yeah, we can do that.” God, who were you to refuse him when he was looking at you like that. Especially when he was in this situation. He smiled, it was a quiet way of saying thank you. “But you might need to get changed. You’re going to get cold if you don’t.” Your sentence was cut by his sneeze. “Sorry.” He mumbled, you patted his shoulder as you walked to your bedroom. Lando was following you but he stopped at the door. Not sure if it would be okay to come inside. You pulled out an oversized sweatshirt and a gray sweatpant from your wardrobe. You handed them to him, Lando looked at you, he seemed surprised. “You kept them?”  You shook your head, not looking at him. But you could see he was smirking now. “Well you never came back to get them. What was I supposed to do? Throw them away? I couldn’t bring myself to do that, they hold so much memories.”
Lando didn’t reply. He just stared at the pieces of clothes that he held. “You can take a shower if you want to. I’ll be in the living room.” Before he could say anything, you walked past him and made your way to the living room. You heard the door close after a few seconds after you left him there. Walking to your kitchen counter, you pressed your kettles button to boil some water. A cup of linden tea would be great for cold.  You spent some time, preparing the tea. You also opened the ice-cream package. And got two spoons from the drawer. After placing them on the wooden coffee table, you waited for Lando. You opened one of his favorite episodes from friends.
He arrived a few minutes later, looking cute in his sweater. You missed it on him. He sat on the other edge of the sofa. But as the show played, he got close to you little by little. You placed some of the blanket on him. He smiled at your actions. One of your hands and found his under the fabric. As soon as he felt your skin, your fingers interlocked. He put his head on your shoulder, mumbling a small “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” You said as your free hand ran through his half-dried curls. They were soft, just like you remembered. He smelled like coconut, because of your shampoo. After a few minutes of playing with his hair, he raised his head and looked at you. “I can get used to this again.” He spoke while drawing some circles on your hand. “I hope you do.”
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luxesiren · 9 months
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⸻ 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 :: connie springer x model!reader
synopsis :: falling in love with one of your models was probably insane or unethical but he didn’t care
cw :: 501 word count, modern au, black fem!reader, established secret relationship, kissing, fluff, work relationship, friends to lovers trope
a/n :: this is inspired by @cybercandy1 ‘s thought on artistic connie, i haven’t really written for connie but i thought this idea was so cute😭 based off this post
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𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑰𝑵𝑮 :: fashion killa — a$ap rocky
you never expected to fall in love with your designer but it was hard not to fall in love with the unserious goofball that was connie springer. you were only supposed to model his newest collection but the months working with him had developed into something more and you didn’t regret it. 
it was hard keeping the relationship out of the media but it was nice to have something to yourself, he was the sweetest to you and you loved him dearly. “connie! baby, have you seen my bag?” 
connie was upstairs in his loft designing a new pair of jeans, he looked over and found your bag sitting next to him. “yeah, ma! it’s up here, i’ll bring it down.” he got up and walked downstairs towards your shared room and he found in front of the mirror admiring your outfit. 
he placed your bag on the bed and walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and planting a kiss on your neck. you instantly smiled at the gesture and rested your hands on top of his, “hi baby.” 
“hey mamas, you wearing the new jeans? they look good on you.” he said as you turned around to face him, his hands moving to rest on your ass, you rolled your eyes playfully at him. 
“you just like the way my ass looks in these jeans.” you giggled, kissing his cheek — your nails scratching at his scalp, the designs on his hair bright and colorful matching the pink dye. 
“mm you’re right.” he said with a smirk, kissing you again. he never expected to fall in love with someone like you but he wouldn’t change that for the world. he loved everything about you, your always changing attitude, how boujee you were and he would cater to every need you had. you appreciated everything he had to offer. “where you gotta go today? hm? you should be spending the day with me.” 
“con.. you know i’m going to lunch with my girls.” you said, trying to pull away from him but his grip on you too strong, not that you wanted to leave anyways. 
“c’mon ma, spend the day with me.” he reasoned, his eyes practically pleading.
“uh nuh, don’t you have something to finish?” your eyebrow raised and your arms crossed. he snorted and looked at you, laughing slightly. 
“baby, I can finish that tomorrow. c’mon spend the day with me. come on, please?” there it was, the thing that would always get you, you relented and smiled and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. 
“fine.” you responded, his answering smile was enough to make you stay with him for the next week. “you better make it worth my while too.” 
“don’t i always, ma?” his slight cockiness is always attractive, he picked you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down and kissing you softly. “i’ll always make it worth your while.” 
you were so lovesick over connie fucking springer.
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© 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 | all rights reserved to me, please don’t repost, steal, or copy to any other websites
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itsharleystuff · 10 months
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*ೃ༄ 𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘜𝘚
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Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader.
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.4k I’m so sorry y’all
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t figure out his feelings for you and is constantly troubled by them.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), age gap (reader just graduated college, Javi is late thirties), inexperienced reader (not innocent, tho), jealousy (not too much), semi-public sex, fingering, pet names (cariño, corazón, hermosa, sweetheart), unprotected sex (don’t try at home), riding, cum eating, creampie. Some phrases in Spanish (no translations cause I’m lazy, sorry). Reader’s nationality isn’t specified, though she’s mentioned to have studied in the states. Javi is in love but won’t admit it, mostly written in his pov. No use of y/n.
— a/n: I don’t particularly like how this one turned out but I wrote it and got very carried away, so might as well just post it anyways.
𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐨
𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬í
𝐬é 𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐞
𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦í𝐚…
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
The things Javier Peña liked the most weren't a secret to anyone. He enjoyed a good smoke, a strong liquor and the company of a nice lady. Especially those three at the same time. Sure, there were other things that could bring genuine joy into his life, but he was a simple man after all.
Or so you thought when you first met him.
It's been five months since you first came to Colombia. It wasn't a really an intricate matter; basically, the embassy needed a translator for the DEA and they decided that your freshly graduated self would perfectly cut the part. And well, you really needed the money at the time, so the fact that there was an ongoing drug war happening down there was not going to be an impediment. You knew what you were getting yourself into, but let's just say that you truly didn't have a choice.
That's exactly what you had told him the first night he invited you to hang out with him, Steve and Connie. Javier didn't need a translator, but god knew his partner did. And after a couple of hang-outs, it became a routine to spend some time out, specially since you all practically lived together.
"So, how many languages do you speak?" The woman asks. “Besides English and Spanish, that is."
You take a sip from your beer without looking at anyone in specific, "I'm fluent in five languages: French, Korean and Portuguese are the three others."
"Damn, so you're like... Super smart," Steve comments with a surprised expression.
"I wouldn't say that," you reply with a shy smile, "I'm simply dedicated."
Javier huffed a laugh, the cigarette smoke filtering through his nostrils. "Can't say you don't look like one of those girls that spent their whole days locked up in their college dorm and that would always get straight A's."
You narrowed your eyes when glancing over at the agent, scowling at him defiantly. "What's that supposed to mean?" He shrugs, shaking off the question. "Are you saying I am... Uptight?"
"Your words, not mine." He puts the cigarette out without even looking back at you.
"But you implied it." Connie taps your hand and gives his husband's partner a dirty look.
"Don't listen to Javi, sweetheart," she says softly. "He can be a complete asshole sometimes."
"And sometimes, mostly means all the time." Steve adds.
"How rude of you." Javi sits back and crosses both arms over his chest, falsely offended.
The blonde woman shakes her head with a small grin before quickly peeking at Murphy' as watch, her expression turning slightly annoyed.
"It's pretty late," she realizes, "and I have to go to the commune tomorrow."
"Right." Steve nods and takes his wallet out to pay for their stuff. "We should get going."
You motion a goodbye to them with a subtle head movement, "I'll stay here for a while," you say, raising your beer. "I'd like to finish my drink."
Javier cocks an eyebrow in your direction, "Yeah, I'm staying too. I'll take care of our girl."
His partner gives him a suspicious head tilt, almost like a small warning —men sign language that you weren't sure you understood entirely—, but Peña dismisses him with a hand gesture as you gulp down the alcohol.
"You know, our building is right across the street. And your apartment is quite literally next to mine." He calls the waitress, not even side eyeing you. "I don't need to be taken care of." Javier finally meets your gaze, feeling his chest swell and instantly regretting his actions at the sight of your confused, daring eyes. "Is anything bothering you? You've been acting strange lately."
There was, in fact, something bothering him.
You. Or more like, his feelings towards you.
At first it was nothing but a simple attraction, the kind that he'd get whenever he wanted to sleep with someone and that would go away once he did. The problem was that he couldn't do that with you. After all, he was nearly forty and you had just barely graduated college. He couldn't risk making you feel uncomfortable or pushing you away.
But shit got worse when he started growing closer to you.
It wasn't about attraction anymore. It was something else. Deeper, unknown... Bizarre. He wanted to be around you all the time, learn about you; your interests, opinions, what you liked or disliked. His heart thumped against his chest whenever you'd smile at him, or briefly touch his skin, laugh at his witticism.
He hated it.
He hated that feeling that crushed his lungs when he saw you doing all those things with other men.
Why couldn't that be him? What did they have that you could possibly find appealing?
He fucking hated it.
Javier tried ignoring you, fucking around with as many women as he could to try and get you out his mind.
Needless to say it was all useless. And that's why perhaps, he was acting strange.
"Javier, are you-" whatever you were going to say got cut off by the arrival of the waitress.
"¿Qué necesitas, corazón?" The woman asked, leaning towards your companion, giving him a better sight of her big, perky breasts while gazing down at him with doe eyes. And Peña, being the man he was, couldn't bat away from her. Which kind of bothered you, to be honest.
Why was he always looking at other women? Why were they special?
It made your stomach feel weird.
"Otra botella, cariño." His tone usually changed when talking to them, even his eyes seemed more joyful. You'd picked up on that.
"Enseguida, Javi. ¿Algo más para ti, nena?" Her eyes swiftly drift towards you, voice becoming softer all of the sudden. It irritated you, more so because of the condescending tone when addressing you. Nonetheless, you kept composure.
"Todo bien, gracias." The delivery came out slightly dry and bitchy, but not as bad as you thought. She doesn't seem to mind, or even note it as she winks at the man next to you before leaving. "Could you switch to a different table?" You spit out.
He grimaces, brows furrowing and lips sealed tight. "Why? I mean, I won't. But I'd like to know why you're asking."
"Not having to deal with flirty waitresses, for starters," you mutter, rolling your eyes and making him chuckle. "And I'm also trying to catch a fling, which will most certainly not work if you're around."
He looks back at you in confusion and displeasure, as if he had missed something. "You're trying to- What?" There's something in his voice similar to... Resentment.
"You know," he stares at you intently, a muscle feathering on his jaw, "I'm trying to leave this bar with company." You feel yourself get nervous under his wary gaze, like a fire burning through your skin.
"Yeah, and you will," he stated, his tone somewhat amused but vaguely strained. "My company should be more than enough."
You giggled, wondering if he was just messing with you or didn't actually think you'd be the type to hook up with strangers. Whichever it was, you only said it to get a reaction from him, not that you'd actually do it. At least not tonight.
It was stupid and you were aware of it. Having a crush on the Javier Peña was probably the dumbest thing you'd done ever since willingly coming to Medellin while the narcos were running around. But, let's be real, how could you not? He was a full-on womanizer, dashing and breathtaking. However, what seemed to make you want him more was the fact that he didn't appear interested in you for anything other than rattling your cages, always taking his flirting to a certain extent but never actually crossing any lines.
"Come on Javi, you know that's not what I mean." He took a deep breath and leaned back on his seat.
Of course he knew what you meant. But he'd rather believe it was something different, because the mere thought of you being with another man, allowing him to do all the things that he yearned to do to you, made him physically ill. His fingertips started fidgeting with anxiety, pushing him to take out the pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket and lighting one up.
"I can't let you do that, sweetheart," he simply said.
"Huh?" You scowl, astonished with his response. "I don't recall asking for your permission."
"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to take random men back to your apartment?" He grumbles sharply, "I'm trying to look out for you, corazón."
His comment only manages to anger you, as if he believed that you'd simply ran off with whatever men offered to buy you a drink. "I'm fairly capable of taking care of myself, Peña." And before he can say anything, you add: "I'm tired of your patronizing treatment. I'm not a kid."
Javier's fingers nervously tap the wooden surface of the table, "I know that. Trust me, I know."
"Sure," you mumble in annoyance, watching him smoke stiffly. "Besides, you're the one that said I was uptight," you taunt. "Perhaps I just need a good fuck to blow off some steam."
You can clearly see every muscle on his body tense up, the cigarette dangling loosely on the corner of his mouth. He clears his throat and puts it out, crushing it in the ashtray on the middle of the table, not even half way through it.
"And you think any of these idiots will be able to give you that, preciosa?" He murmurs hastily, "A good fuck?"
You shrug your shoulders with a grin. "Can't be worse than sleeping around with college boys," you say, "those suckers never gave me a single orgasm in my life."
Javier felt cornered. Your words made his mind wander along places he'd strictly forbid himself to go to, blood rushing into all the wrong areas and pulse starting to rise. Maybe it was the few drinks you've both had, but he became bolder, unable to bite his tongue back and letting all his thoughts overrun him.
"Poor thing is looking to be fucked by a real man," he teases. "I wonder if you'll get what you want tonight."
"Oh, don't make fun of me, Peña," you complain, laying your chin on the palm of your hand. "I deserve this after three years of dating the same asshole that my parents liked."
"Jesus," he huffs, "three years and the kid never made you cum once?" You shake your head and he raises and eyebrow in disbelief. "Why did you even keep up with him anyways?"
"This might come as a surprise, but not everything in a relationship is about sex." He doesn't reply, persuading you with a smug look. You sigh heavily, avoiding his glance. "You're gonna think I'm childish."
"Try me."
You take your time to retort, still unsure. "It's stupid, I swear." But when your eyes bore into his, they appear reassuring and it makes you crumble immediately. "Fine," you give up, "have you ever been in love, Javi? And I don't mean like silly, head-over heels in love. I mean the kind of love that you feel throughout your whole body every time you see that one person. It feels safe, but exciting at the same time... Have you felt it?"
The smile on your lips and the way your face lit up when speaking sent a thrill of joy through his nerves, automatically making him smile back.
"See? You're laughing, I told you it was stupid." He shakes his head lightly, leaning towards you in interest.
"No," he says playfully, "I just think you're adorable." Before you can process his words, he talks again: "No, I don't think I've ever felt anything similar."
"Really?" you can't hide the surprise in your voice. "I thought you were going to get married before coming to Colombia."
"I was." He recalled. "But... I don't know. It was a long time ago." Thinking about his past wasn't Javier's favorite hobby, so he tried to smoothly change the subject back to you. "So, is that how you felt about the guy?"
"I thought so." You tug a strand of hair behind your ear apprehensively. "But at the end, he... Well, he convinced me that no one else was going to love me the way he did." You explain, watching as Javi's fists clenched under the table. "And I was too damn busy arranging my future and planning how to get the hell out of my hometown that I didn't have any time left to deal with him, so I just... Kept him around. Because it was familiar and I was scared to meet someone else from scratch."
He gives you a comprehensive nod. "That boy sounds like a complete dickhead."
"Totally. But that's behind me now. Currently I'm just looking for something new. No feelings, no strings attached, just fun."
The agent couldn't help but feel like someone was messing with his head.
That's practically every man's fantasy. At least Javier knows he's wanted that for a long time, being the prime reason why he usually fucked whores or preferred casual hook ups. And you liked him, at least physically. He was no idiot, he could tell when a woman was attracted to him. He liked you too. Hell, that was an understatement.
So why couldn't he bring himself to make the first move? What was stopping him?
"Aquí tienes, Javi." The waitress's voice brought him back to reality as she gave him his drink.
"Gracias, corazón." He didn't engage with her further, his attention focused on you. That bothered her but you can't tell if he noticed. "So what? Am I supposed to just watch as you get sweet-talked by one of them?"
"Basically," you respond, avoiding his glance.
"Like hell I will," his tone is sharp and determined, taking you out completely. "You're already tipsy and that'll only make it easier to take advantage of you."
"I swear I'm fine, Javi." The man shakes his head and takes a long sip from his beer.
"We're leaving. Now." At first you thought he was playing around, but his stoic expression told otherwise.
"What? No." He grits his teeth and takes his wallet out, leaving a couple bills on the table. "Seriously, Javier?"
"Yes. Now, get your pretty ass up unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder." You can't believe his actions, looking up at him dumbfounded.
"I'll scream," you threaten, half serious, half joking.
"I have a badge," he stands up, glancing down at you with his hands on his hips, patiently waiting for your next move. "Come on, hermosa. Don't make it difficult."
"I- Fine." Reluctantly, you do as told, taking your purse and denying him of eye contact. "You didn't even finish your drink and now you've spoiled my chances of having a pleasant night," you ramble while walking out of the place.
Javier's hand settles on your lower back when he helps you cross the street. Despite the growing irritation and confusion that his behavior was causing you, his touch managed to make you feel comfortable. That was his magic, when it came to him, skin to skin contact wasn't only soothing, but also enjoyable; as brief as it might be, it always succeeded in bringing a particular warmth to your whole body.
"I don't understand," you mutter, crossing the dark, silent halls of the building. "Why are you acting so strange?" You suddenly stop in front of your apartment door, turning to lock glances with him, who stood completely still. "I asked you earlier if there was something bothering you, and I didn't mean like... The usual work luggage, I mean... Me. Did I do something wrong?"
His eyes scan your face carefully, searching for any signs that he should back out, but finding none. Should he tell you? He's never been good with words and honestly, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to say. He can hardly figure out if what he felt was attraction, desire or... Something entirely different. And if he did say anything... What if that changed everything between you? Would you push him away?
Javier Peña was brave enough to take on every single sicario in Medellin all by himself, but he couldn't muster up the bravado he needed to tell the woman he liked about his feelings. Oh, the irony.
"No, sweetheart. You're perfect," he assures, anxiously running a hand through his hair. "I just have stuff to figure out and... My head is a such mess right now."
You nod and smile at him empathetically, a short silence falling upon you. After all, it was only fair that you gave him his space. The man had been through some pretty fucked up shit that most couldn't nearly begin to understand. He looked directly in the face of death every single time he decided to step out that door behind him; so no matter what was troubling him, the most you could do was simply be there if he needed you.
"Don't worry," you say, your hand shooting up to caress the side of his face in a sweet manner. His eyes briefly shut at the contact and a shiver runs down his spine. "I know it's not easy. But I'm sure it'll be fine. I just wanted you to know that... That you can talk to me." Your thumb gently sweeps over his cheekbone, adding to the emotion that your words reflected. "I'm your friend, right? You can trust me... Rely on me, if you need it."
Shit, thaaaat word.
It was heavy, determinant and so fucking hurtful.
Yeah, of course you were friends. And he hated it. Javier didn't want to be your friend. The way he thought about you was not how friends thought about each other. He wanted more... But how much more?
The only lightning in the hallway came from the warm, public streetlights outside, dimly spilling through the windows and creating shadows that highlighted your features perfectly. You couldn't comprehend why his eyes resembled a wounded puppy when you spoke, like you had just said something that conflicted him. His skin felt feverish there were you touched him, heart heavy in his chest. And you were so close to him that your perfume fogged his senses... All he could think about was the fact that he wanted his bedsheets to smell the same way.
All this tension, he wasn't sure if you felt it too, but it was absolutely crushing, suffocating him. He was going to die if he didn't do something. Anything.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You frown, confused by his unexpected apology.
"What for?" His hand wrapped around your wrist, swiftly guiding it to his chest, palm flat over his sternum.
He said nothing, nor did he show signs of wanting to. Actions speak louder than words, wasn't that right?
Hell, he was about to find out.
Tossing aside all his fears and doubts, he leaned in towards you, his own hand going to your waist and pulling you closer to him, both your bodies crashing delightfully against the other. It startled you, but not in alarm, though in surprise. Nonetheless, he didn't give you any time to process whatever the situation was.
He gently pressed his lips on tops of yours, just enough for you to push him away if you so desired. And in your mind, all that can be processed is: Javier Peña is kissing me.
It was so sudden that you had to grab his strong arm not to crumble under his embrace. Javier's lips are soft and new, yet somehow... Familiar. His mustache mildly tickles your skin, his cologne going straight to your head. Shit, the way he held you —like you were a fragile little thing— made your legs tremble immediately.
Was this even real? Are you daydreaming again?
No. The answer's no. He is kissing you, right outside your apartment. And of course, you don't hesitate to kiss him back.
He tastes of alcohol, cigarettes and mint.
Your lips moved slowly, letting him explore, feel the area around. All thoughts and questions vanished in thin air, whatever troubles he might've had disappearing when you seemed so responsive to him. You let your purse fall to the floor with a faint thud, your hand snaking to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes so you could reach his height. He grips your waist tighter, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip and raising goosebumps on your skin. Javier swirls your body to pin you against the wall, mouth over yours at all times.
Your whole world spins with frenzy, overcame by all the unfamiliar sensations that shook you entirely. You had never been kissed with such passion, with a hectic need that ran all the way to your feet. No one had ever made you felt this wanted before.
Javier was over the moon, part of him still incredulous of the fact that you were kissing him back. It didn't seem real, as if this was just another one of his wild fantasies replaying more and more vividly in his head. But it was real and even better than anything he could've pictured. It was consuming.
All the sleepless nights he had spent thinking about the many different ways he could make you his, the countless times he'd imagined himself showing you all the pleasure only he could provide.
But then again, you were so good and so sweet... All the things he could easily corrupt.
Why did he allow himself to feel like this?
You make a sound of protest when he parts from your lips, laying his forehead against yours and panting from the lack of oxygen. Your finger run through his hair while trying to settle down your breathing, a cheeky smile smooshed on your face.  His hold on you softens, one of his hands traveling to your temple, his fingertips mapping every single detail on your skin with smitten eyes. Breathing heavily, you lean in to kiss him again, your lips barely brushing against each other's as he pulled back.
"Javi," you whisper, your voice coming out almost as a plea, "what-"
"I'm sorry," He says again, sounding genuinely guilty. "I'm so sorry, corazón." You swallow hard, unable to understand what he meant. He seals a soft kiss to your forehead and you can't even begin to understand what just happened. "This was a mistake."
Your heart drops with that sentence and you're abruptly stripped away from the warmth of his body as he leaves your side. You want to cry at once, all from the pent-up frustration and sudden bafflement. 
"Javi, wait-" he's already opening the door to his place when you crouch to reach for your bag. "Please." In spite of your concerned calling, he doesn't seem to care, simply closing behind him.
You're left alone in the middle of a brooding, quiet hallway, staring blankly at his door. You want to beg him for an explanation, tear all the walls down and pull an answer out of him. But you know you can't.
Space. He just needs space to sort things out.
So, with your head and feelings all messed up, you go back to your apartment, mad and overall... Hurt.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Next morning, your alarm didn't go off.
Sure, throw more wood into the fire. Whatever.
You didn't sleep much, haunted by the ghost of Javier's lips on yours. Even now, in the solitude of your  bed, you trace the corners of your mouth trying to relive the memory. Yet, that emptiness in your chest didn't seem to fade away. No matter how hard you tried, his words wouldn't stop hammering your head.
This was a mistake.
He said that kissing you was a mistake.
Why? Because he was your co-worker? No. He'd shamelessly slept with many of his co-workers before. Maybe the reason was your friendly bond. Or, perhaps- could it be your age difference? Though Peña didn't come off as someone that would care about that.
For whatever reason, his actions made your blood boil. The more you thought about it —the way he handled things and how he treated you— the angrier you got.
So, naturally, you were late to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was draw his attention to you, but it was practically impossible given the circumstances. Still, you won't give him the satisfaction of seeing how affected you were by last night's incident.
Javier's eyes glued to yours the second you walked in the building, keeping your head held high and a polite smile as you greeted everyone and made your way to your desk. You were dazzling, even more than usual, and he wondered if it was just his mind playing games with him.
Your hands were full, carrying various documents that you held close to your chest; a light, white shirt with a couple buttons undone that bared your neck and collarbones, accentuating your breasts, grazing your figure. But what really got him on edge, was that obscenely tight pencil skirt you were wearing.
"Buenos días, Steve." You nod to the blonde agent.
"Good morning to you too," he said with a wink, watching as you went ahead to your own cubicle, which was right in front of theirs. "A bit late, aren't you?"
"I overslept," was the only explanation.
You didn't even acknowledge Javier's presence. No eye contact, no salute, nothing. He merely saw as you settled all documents down and sat behind your writing desk, paying no mind to him or anyone else as you started reading all the files and folders. Either consciously or not, you left the door to your place semi-open. Murphy followed his gaze, your actions towards his partner not going unnoticed by him. He snapped his fingers in front of the other man's face, bringing his attention back.
"What?"
"What do you mean 'what'?" Steve countered, signaling imaginary quotation marks with his fingers. "What's going on between you two?"
A muscle jumped on Javier's neck, his stare wandering off. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, come on man!" He snorts, maintaining a low tone. "Don't play dumb. I've seen the way you look at her."
Murphy sits on his colleague's desk, grabbing his own coffee mug and settling to look down at him, deeply invested in the topic.
"Seriously?" The brunette man rubs his temples, seeing how determined his friend was. "I just think she's- you know... Attractive."
"Bullshit. Dig deeper, Javs."
The agent sighs in frustration. "The fuck do you want me to tell you, then? You seem to know everything already."
"I'm just thinking what could possibly be the reason why you haven't asked her out yet." He meditates. "Because, honestly, it's only a matter of time before someone else does." Javier's brows knit together in thought. "Just the other day Connie told me she rejected two guys in one night."
"Did she say why?" Steve shakes his head.
"It's pretty obvious, if you ask me."
"How so?" He asks, to which Murphy rubs his eyes with his thumbs, slowly counting to ten in his head.
"You two are fucking blind." He hurls, exasperated. "You like her, she clearly likes you too. What's the damn problem?"
"We don't like each other. That's high school shit, Steve." The mentioned man raised both brows at his comment. "I mean... It's different."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Peña breathes in deeply before doing so. "I don't know. We're... Complete opposites. She couldn't possibly reciprocate. Not like I would like her to, anyway."
Steve's lips pursed in a crooked smile. "So you do like her, then."
"Shit, of course I do!" He hissed. "I think."
"You think?" The blonde takes a sip from his coffee, engaged with the conversation.
"Yeah. I mean-" Javier clears his throat. "It's beyond just physical. That's what's messing with me." He plays with his blue tie when speaking. "Esta mierda me está atormentando. I can't rest well, her scent is all over me the whole damn day. Her eyes, man. I'd be doing the stupidest shit only for her to look my way. She has a contagious laugh..." He recalls, "I don't know if you've noticed."
"Uh-."
"Also, she'd just randomly start spitting the weirdest facts about literally anything. It's scary how much she knows. And I enjoy listening to her." He chuckles at his memories. "I can't get tired, really. I'm never tired of her. Anyone else... I have a limit. Joder. I could listen to her talking for hours and I'd be the happiest man ever. But, whatever this is... It's overwhelming. Cause I can't act on it."
Steve frowns. He couldn't believe that his friend, who was one of the most dedicated, gritty DEA agents he knew, was unable to act on his feelings for a girl. "So, I ask again... What's the problem?"
Before Peña could reply, another woman called their names. It was one of the secretaries with whom he also had had an affair with. Not that it mattered, though.
"Hey, is our translator here already?" She asked with a kind smile, standing in front of them.
"Yeah, she just arrived." Javier responds, "Is there anything we can help you with?" He points the folder she was holding.
"Oh, no. This isn't about that." She giggles, dismissing the question. "But now that you mention it- I'm aware that she's somewhat close to you, so... Do you happen to know if she's seeing anyone at the moment?" Steve shots him a cautious look at her inquiry, but he says nothing, remaining still as a stone.
"No. Not that we know of."
Javier's face twists with a sneer, painfully conscious of what his partner was doing with his answers. But he couldn't quite focus on them anymore, his eyes diverting to your location in hopes to catch a glimpse of your face. You were laid back on your chair, a pair of reading glasses sat on the bridge of your nose while scanning some papers. However, his attention drifted back to their conversation when the woman started explaining the reason of her doubt.
"My cousin is coming for the weekend and he asked me to show him around. It's kind of a set up, really, since my boyfriend's coming too. And well, I've gone out with her a couple of times. She's really nice and friendly... I figured she might be interested."
"I'm sure she'll say yes," Steve replied with animosity, "Where exactly do you plan on going?"
"Ah, there's this place downtown. It's not exactly a club, but a place to dance. Salsa and those sort of things."
The flashing image of you in a short dress, all sweaty while dancing closely with someone else had him feeling unsettled in seconds. Hell no. Once again his train of thought got lost as the woman went into your office, shutting the door behind her and leaving him with an awful taste of bitterness on his tongue.
"Fuck," he mutters, searching for a pack of smokes.
"Clock's ticking, Javs."
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Time passes by quickly.
You come and go in between schedules, only staying in your office when you needed a break. Being Friday, most people had left already, but you still had a couple hours to fill in before going home. And since your work was pretty much done, you decide to sit back and relax, taking out a book from your purse. Although you don't get to read plenty before someone knocks on your door.
"Come in!" You shout in a calm tone, eyes still glued to the pages. Somehow, you knew exactly who it was even before he came in. "Agent Peña," you grit out, not bothering to glance in his direction, "how can I help you?"
He strode his way to the front of your desk, laying both palms down and leaning forwards. "I've been meaning to talk to you." He sounds grim, more serious than he's ever been with you before.
"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm a bit busy right now." Javier calls your name lowly, demanding your attention. Yet, you don't respond.
"Will you please look at me?" He barks in disheartenment. "Please."
You know deep down that if your eyes met his, all your barriers would crumble. But the man had a heavy presence, and it was one you couldn't quite ignore despite all your efforts. You put down the book, glaring up at him in defeat. And shit, you were right. The mere sight of him was all it took for your gaze to soften as he stood before you, his beige suit a bit wrinkled, hair slightly out of place and brown eyes round and big.
"What is it?" You huff, trying not to sound disturbed.
"I wanted to talk about yesterday. I-"
"What about yesterday?" He tilts his head to the side when you cut him off.
"Come on, cariño." Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. "Can we not do this?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand," you retort harshly, "Can we not do what? Act dumb? You are the one that said-"
"I know what I said." He states clearly, "I didn't mean it."
"Which part, exactly? The kiss? Or when you said that it was all a mistake?" Javier's hands rest on his hips as you carry on, "Look, I don't know what kind of treatment you receive from other women, but I'm not one of your pay girls, Peña."
His eyes narrow skeptically, "I'm aware."
You stand up from your seat, but don't approach him yet. "Right. Then why did you do it?" Your eyes pierce his soul with a certain spite. "Am I not good enough for you, Javier?"
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. "How can you say that?"
"That's how you made me feel," you remark.
For a lingering second, none of you say a thing; a tense silence floating between you as you shared an intense, absorbing stare. It was difficult to come up with a reply that wasn't an apology from his part, cause he was past asking for forgiveness over something he didn't regret. He was burdened with the words he said, but not the fact that he kissed you.
And you can't find it in yourself to step away when he moves closer to your body.
He was being unfair, you thought. Every little action he made added to his cruelty; how he'd reach his hands to cup your face, clearly aware of his power over you and the way his eyes were devotedly looking at yours... Why would he do this after the way he treated you yesterday?
What a mean, mean man.
"You have it all wrong, amor," he speaks softly. "I'm the one that's not good enough."
It is as though he just slapped you across the face. "Don't give me that crap," you sulk out, "if you're gonna reject me, better be honest about your reasons." His hands slowly loose their hold on you as he is taken aback with your response, angling his shoulders to square off with you. "Do you not want me? It's okay if I'm not your type, but-"
For a second time, the irrational part of Javier's brain takes over his body and lets it do the work.
He kisses you again, and as of now, he does it most ardently. Just as simple as that, the primal instinct inside you gives in to him. It was unimaginable to think of any other sort of outcome.
He's rough in comparison to the previous kiss you shared; all tongue and teeth, heated and reckless. His hands are never steady, going from your hips to your ass while the other one grips the nape of your neck. You weren't any less eager: fingers running through his hair and fisting his suit jacket. Javier says your name in between the kiss, desperate as he messily tosses aside all the documents on your desk to sit you on top, establishing between your legs.
"How dare you imply I don't want you?" his voice is raspy when he pulls back, cupping your face in his big hand, fingertips digging in your cheeks. His lips move to your ear; heavy, hot breathes hit your skin and ruffle your hair while sending shocks of arousal to your core. "When you've been the only thing I've desired for months. Months, sweetheart. You know the torture you've been putting me through when walking around in these outrageously tight skirts?" You gulp, feeling heat spread on your lower stomach. "Answer, corazón."
"No-" you merely whisper, "I didn't know you... Looked at me like that." He laughs dryly, lips pressed alongside your jaw. "I hoped you did, though."
"Ah, so you did wish to torture me." He pulls your hair to throw your head back and further expose the skin of your neck, ripping a whine from your mouth. "What a merciless woman you are, sweetheart."
You smile unconsciously as your thighs cage his hips. "Me? I'm the one that's had to bear with your constant flirting, watching as you seduced every single woman that you crossed paths with. Oh, and let's not forget all the gossip and rumors I heard about you in the office..."
You feel his smirk graze your skin when his wet kisses slide to your collarbones. "What do they say?"
"That you're..." it becomes hard to talk when your mind can't think straight, "Amazing." His hand sets on your lower back in order to bring your body closer to his. "And so big..."
He comes back to your lips and you welcome him with an open mouth. Javier grunts when you mildly scratch his scalp and the sound makes your legs shake. Your lips only separate when oxygen suddenly becomes a necessity, and the way he looks down at you —hungrily, eyes darkened with lust—, makes your insides burn. His hand takes your wrist and carefully slides it across his shoulder and above his abdomen, letting your palm rest over the front of his pants, allowing you to feel how hard he's gotten just from the make out.
"See for yourself," he grumbles hoarsely. With a vicious grin, you apply pressure to his bulge, relishing in the throaty groan he lets out. "Still think I don't want you?"
"M’not sure." In response, Javier hums in your ear. "I might need a little more convincing."
"Oh, you will have it, corazón," he coos. "Yesterday you said that no man has ever given you an orgasm. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"Can I change that?" The heat in your core expands to every cell in your body at the proposal.
"Please," something shifts in his gaze when you verbally express your desire for him. He is finally getting what he has longed for during all this time.
At this point, none you could care any less about the place. The building was nearly empty anyways. Only now, with his head buried between your breasts and fingers caressing the flesh of your thighs, do all the thoughts and fears in Javier's mind dissipate.
He's got you were he wanted you all along.
He unbuttons your blouse, but doesn't remove your bra, his hands too busy while pulling your skirt all the way up to your hips, exposing your plain black underwear. A cocky smile spreads across his face at the sight of how soaked you are already. You start panting, growing embarrassed when he lowers himself to his knees in front on you, avoiding all eye contact.
"What are you doing?" You blurt out, suddenly a bit shy.
"What?" He holds your knees to keep your legs apart, staring solely at your face. "Don't tell me that..." his expression becomes incredulous, "Three years and that boy never tasted this pussy?"
The heat on your face grows exponentially, "No one has."
"Shit, I'm one lucky bastard," he mumbles, mouth roaming your inner thighs. Javier senses how tense you are, probably feeling self-conscious. "Don't think too much about it, sweetheart. Just allow yourself to feel good, okay? I'll make sure to give you a good time."
"But-" air catches in your lungs when he nibbles the sensitive skin, "what about you?"
"Me?" He chuckles shortly, "Trust me, corazón. I do this mainly for myself."
You babble something that he doesn't quite hear, his fingers hooking on your panties to tug them down, dazed with excitement. He discards the clothing carelessly and throws your legs over his broad shoulders. The agent's eyes bore into yours, enjoying your flustered behavior as he calls your name soothingly.
"Look at me, hermosa," it sounds like an order, despite the soft tone. "Look at me."
You oblige, breath catching in your throat when he licks his lips and finally gets the view of your slick, exposed pussy. He dives in without wasting any time, flattening his tongue against your clit, circling a couple of times before easing a finger into you, moving it in and out at a steady pace.
"Fuck, Javi-" you cry, trying to muffle your moans in case anyone's around. And you practically feel him laugh at your vain attempts of keeping them on the low.
You briefly shut your eyes when he adds a second finger, curling them to hit all the right spots, making you throw your head back. You're positively dripping down your work desk, knuckles going white while holding it to keep yourself grounded.
"Come on, preciosa," his voice forces you to glance back at him, "told you to look." He takes his fingers out and you can't help but whine at the emptiness he left behind. "None of that, corazón." He reaches for your arm, taking your hand and placing it on his soft, fluffy hair. "Use me."
You can possibly cum just from that. The single image of him kneeled before you, head between your legs, eyes dark and greedy while asking to be used by you. It seemed like an image pulled from one of your darkest fantasies.
And fucking hell, did he look like one dark fantasy himself.
Your fingers run through his curls at the time as his mouth starts working you open, his tongue parting your folds and lapping up your slick avidly, tasting from every angle. The sudden action makes you squeal in surprise and pleasure, your legs tightening around his head instinctively. Consequently, he groans involuntarily and you mumble an apology, his hands coming to keep your thighs spread.
"Don't apologize," he says breathlessly, "that was fucking hot."
As he eats you out, his tongue finds the places that made your body shake and have your hips grinding against his face. He can't help but bask in the glorious view of you, all splayed out for him, the curve of your breasts as your chest rises and falls from the ragged breathing, cheeks flushed red and plump lips parted while looking down at him, eyes now hooded beneath heavy lids. He dreamt about this before. How you'd taste like, what you'd look like, the noises you'd make. Fuck, he saw this exact moment for weeks, playing in his sleep like a loop he couldn't escape from, waking up every morning with a hard on he could rarely get rid of with a simple cold shower.
This- shit, he's mesmerized.
His right hand coasts down to palm himself through his pants, just enough to relieve some of the ache he felt. He moans and the action sends vibrations throughout your body.
"Yes- keep going, please..." you feel so close now, your whole body trembling and abdomen tightening. "Javi, that's amazing."
You're euphoric, experiencing something unlike anything you've had before, aware of sensations you didn't know you could feel. His nose nudges your clit repeatedly and everything simply explodes. You pull his hair as a warning, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him; but Javier simply grasps your thighs harder.
It takes seconds for you to reach your high, eyes teary and vision blurry from the shocking ecstasy that this new experience brought. He licks you clean before standing up slowly, softly stroking your exposed skin and aiming to grab a tissue from your desk, helping you rearrange your skirt and underwear.
"How was that?" he asks, wiping over his mustache while looking at you mischievously.
You can't think of any way to answer that could explain what you just felt; instead, you grab his tie and drag him towards you. He laughs gleefully when you search for his lips, covering half your face with his palm, gently brushing your cheekbone with his thumb before actually kissing you.
This time it's different. Deep, but not as hungry; simply affectionate. You can't breathe and it feels like you're floating. His eyes seem out of focus when your lips set apart and you can tell just how stupidly drunk he is. Drunk on you.
"Never thought I could feel... I wouldn't even know how to describe it," you mumble, tracing the lapels of his jacket.  "I didn't even think it was possible to be so... Wet, I guess."
He cackles. "Glad to know I'm doing my job right," you give him a half smile in return. "Though I still can't believe that somewhere in this world there's a son of a bitch who was lucky enough to have you by his side for years, and never even tried to give you head." You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed. "Seriously. If I were your man, I'd be begging for you to give me a taste. A la mierda eso, I'll beg you now."
Despite the joking note, he kind of meant it. Now that he had taken a bite from the forbidden fruit, he needed the whole damn thing.
"Gracias, Javi." You peck his lips, mind still clouded from the post-orgasm bliss. "Can I return the favor?"
He blinks a couple of times, "I- you don't have to. I didn't do it because I was expecting you to-"
"I know, Javier," you reassure. "But trust me... I want to." 
One of these days you're going to give the poor man a heart-attack. Somehow, you always manage to say the things exactly how he wants to hear them and precisely how he never expects you to say them. 
"Está bien, corazón."
You press a hand to his chest and softly push him backwards, "Take a seat." He lifts an eyebrow in surprise, but still does as told, immersed in this new dynamic. 
He sits on your chair, legs spread just enough to give you room to settle. It's now your turn to be on your knees for him, every move you made being monitored by his keen eyes. Javier's heart is beating so fast it actually hurts. He feels as if this was his first time getting blown, like he doesn't even know what to do with himself despite his experienced record. You're fairly inexperienced in this area, but he gave you enough confidence and safety to ask. Your face rests on his inner thigh as you look up at him through your lashes.
"Tell me, Javi. How do you like it?" you ask, losing coyness and slowly unbuckling his belt without breaking eye contact. "Would you like me to gag on it?" His eyes widen at the question, "Do you prefer it if I lick or spit? Tell me how to please you, Javier."
He inhales sharply, "fucking hell", you smile at him when pulling down the zipper delicately, "I want you to stop talking or else I might just lose it."
"Oh," you palm him through his briefs, feeling his hard, hot cock throbbing under your touch, "so you like my voice?"
He tangles his fingers in your hair, "I like everything about you, if that's where we're going." Not a second after speaking, the phone on your desk started ringing and he shot you a cagey glance.
"Answer it," you tell him, pressing light kisses to his clothed crotch.
"¿Ahora?" Your eyes sparkle with a certain naughtiness that he didn't think you were capable of having.
"Sí, Javier. Pick up the phone." Cautious, he reaches for it and takes the call reluctantly.
"Peña," he sulks out as you swirl your tongue over the damp spot that had formed on his underwear. His eyes shut for a split second and his entire body shivers. "No está aquí. ¿Le paso algún mensaje?"
To be fair, you were there, probably just a little too tongue-tied to answer. There was no shame in admitting how much you were enjoying pulling him out and rejoicing yourself in every single contented sigh, jolt, or twitch he made when you started stroking him. Whomever was calling clearly had an important matter with you, since he wasn't hanging up and was struggling to keep up with the other side of the line, simply grumbling affirmations such as 'sí, entiendo, ajá'. And you were painfully teasing the man, as if he wasn't worked up enough.
"The rumors were true, I see..." you ramble and watch him smirk at your comment.
You give a firm squeeze to the base, pumping a few times before twisting at the head, already leaking all over himself. He can't look at you and he's set on that, one hand white-knuckling the edge of your desk as the other holds the phone, mouth agape. But it was unfair. You wanted his attention; all of it. Even if that meant getting caught.
So, in order to get it, you slowly lick the tip and gather the precum that oozed there on your tongue, growing rather fond of its salty flavor. He snarls, eyeing you in a grave manner. But for god's sake, the sole look on your face when taking his cock fully into your mouth could send him into oblivion.
"Yo se lo haré saber." Was the last thing Javier said before abruptly ending the call, immediately letting out the lewdest moan you've heard of him so far. And that alone is making you wet all over again. "You truly are something else," he rumbles between heavy, shallow breaths. "Putting on a little show like that- Fuck."
His hips jump upwards when you take him farther, his fingers running through your hair as he mumbles an apology. Your jaw goes slack once you start bobbing your head up and down his length, your throat and mouth feeling so full of him, lips cradled around his length as if it was your life purpose.
He was panting, groaning and calling your name repeatedly, murmuring praises that encouraged you to take him deeper. His thighs tremble every time you hollow your cheeks around him or run your tongue on the underside of his dick. Your hand goes to massage his balls and he throws his head back in sheer pleasure, cursing under his breath.
Never had you given such a messy blowjob before, drool dripping all over him and your free hand going to rub your clit over your panties, cunt aching for him once more. But he throughly enjoyed it like this. How you moaned around him, the way you lapped at his slit and sucked him earnestly. And it goes without saying how much you loved it too.
"Shit, that's it-" you know he's close when his words become incoherent, his breath disjointed and muscles tightened.
You pull back shortly, your hand still jerking him off, "I want to swallow it," you purr, his hand gripping the back of your neck.
"Yes, god- yes."
Despite the lightheaded feeling, you take him in your mouth again, going as far as you could. His eyes lock with yours and that's all it takes for his load to spill all over your tongue and down your throat, his orgasm hitting hard. You do as you said, not giving much thought to it and purely admiring how fine he looked in this precise moment, absolutely lost in his pleasure. Once he finally rode it out, you release him, gently kissing the tip. He sighs loudly, his soft whimpers barely audible as the aftershocks of his high strike his body.
You can't help but smile as you stand in your feet, knees surely bruised. He looks up at you, shaking his head and mirroring your expression before rearranging his pants and straightening his suit. It's like he was seeing you for the first time, now in a completely different light.
"Want a ride home?" your response was obvious.
Javier had completely forgotten the reason why he came to your office in the first place.
And the lack of information gave you the wrong idea of why he really came looking for you.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Saturdays were meant to be enjoyed. They were supposed to be rest days, used to spend time with friends or family, maybe go to a club or join someone for a roadtrip. They definitely weren't meant to be dull, and let them pass by with tons of shitty work.
Javier and Steve had been all day locked up in Murphy's apartment, going through some of the most recent information regarding the cartel. Connie was there too, not really participating but giving them moral support and, more importantly, beers. Peña constantly went in and out, going to his own apartment to gather some more papers, and even taking a second shower to clear his head. He was hugely stressed.
"I'm spent." He complained. "Nothing new is going to happen today, I'm dropping this for the night."
His friend nodded in agreement, suddenly distraught by his wife cursing out of nowhere. "Everything alright?"
"It's raining," she said, looking through the window. Javier wasn't paying that much attention until she mentioned your name. "She had a date tonight. I helped her pick up a dress and..."
His head turned at that, wincing. "A date?"
"Yeah, sort of. Mia invited her. You know, the secretary." Steve's eyes narrowed.
"You said you talked to her," he hushed. 
"I did..." Javier clears his throat, "I mean, no. Not exactly."
The blonde frowns, "so what happened, then?" his partner shrugs, a dim grin drawn on his lips. "Actually, I don't want to know."
"I dropped her off here," he explained, "after... Well, it doesn't matter. There just wasn't a particular talk about the subject."
Steve intends to say something, but the other man solely ignores him, gathering his stuff quickly in order to not dive in that distinct topic that could only spur him on in the wrong ways. And frankly, he didn't want to talk about it. All the choices he made were mistaken and it was entirely his own fault.
So what if you had a date? How did that concern him? The other night you were pretty clear about wanting to have something with 'no feelings, no strings attached, just fun'. He was merely helping you out, as a friend. Nothing else. Because, at the end of the day, he couldn't really be anything else besides that. And he wasn't able to figure out if he wanted anything more; much less deserve it.
Javier walked off to his apartment, mind wrapped around you.
The rain had gotten worse since he left, lightings striking across the sky and raindrops crashing violently against the closed windows. The weather did not seem to help dissipate his troubled thinking. He didn't even realize his feet had stopped moving right outside your door, nor when his hand knocked on it.
You were shocked to hear that you had visitors, and the feeling sank deeper when you saw him standing there with a stern face, arms crossed above his chest. He appeared to be upset, in a way you hadn't yet seen him. However, when his eyes roamed your body you were able to pick up on his tensing muscles.
"Am I walking in on something?" he questions lightheartedly.
You shake your head and farther open the door to invite him in. "I had plans today but we had to reschedule."
Javier decided to play dumb, "What sort of plans?" You dismissed the inquiry with a subtle hand gesture, locking behind him. "You look stunning, by the way."
It was nothing but true and it made it difficult for him to focus on whatever he came here to do. Your hair and makeup were done differently tonight and the red dress you were wearing wasn't exactly discrete, but neither revealing.
"Thanks. You yourself look very handsome too." He snorted sarcastically. "But I bet you already knew that."
In your eyes he always did look charming, but at the moment the vibe was outstanding. His hair was curlier than usual, —probably due to the humidity in the air— and he was wearing a black shirt with plenty of undone buttons that gave a nice view of his golden skin, paired with those pants that would just stick to him like a second skin. There was also that tension in his posture that gave a certain roughness to his exterior, in some way making him more alluring.
"So, what brings you here? As I said, I had plans but now that they're off the table..." He wasn't looking at you, playing around with his fingers, "Would you like to watch a movie? I still have the dvd we rented-"
"I need to talk to you." He blurted out, readjusting the watch on his wrist.
You blinked in confusion, "Sure, what is it?"
His mouth dried all of the sudden, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I- don't know how to say this..."
"Maybe sit back and- I'll pour you a drink." You don't wait around for his reply, walking straight to the kitchen. The place wasn't big, so everything was pretty much in the same space.
Javier sat down on the big, brown armchair, feeling the leather crack under his weight. Beside him there was a small reading table decorated with a vintage lamp and an ashtray that you had gotten specifically for whenever he came to visit, along with a pack of smokes. The lights in your apartment were warm and almost all of them were on due to the lack of light that the night and the rainclouds provided. But even now, the chill air from outside could somehow still be felt. Truth be told, it was actually quite cozy to you.
"It's about yesterday," you hear him say while poring some whiskey into two glasses. The mention of the subject makes your heart flutter.
Talk about deja vu.
"Yesterday?" Anxiety drifted your thoughts through the worst scenarios possible. "Oh, don't worry about it, Peña. You don't have to give me 'the talk'. We're still friends, alright? Nothing's changed."
You couldn't possibly tell how he physically flinched at your declaration, neither how much it stung. You cross the living room to sit on the couch across him, barely on the edge of it so your bare legs were still flushed to his knees. He takes the glass you offer, but instead of drinking, he sets it down on the table.
"So it meant nothing to you," the man asks in a low voice. "Right, cariño?"
Shit, of course it meant something. But you could not tell him. Not him.
Javier was the type of man that would sleep with you and then move on. He wasn't a jerk, but this heartless fame that he had didn't help. Telling him about your crush and how the events that went down yesterday simply encouraged it was like signing a death sentence to any bond that you two had at the time. And you sincerely didn't want to say goodbye to whatever it was that you both had built together.
"Yeah, we were just fooling around," you said, taking a sip from the alcohol before placing the glass next to his.
"Fooling around," he echoes your phrase, his mustache twitching prior to swallowing down the drink.
"Whoa- Is everything okay? I feel like you're keeping stuff to yourself." His behavior was starting to get you worried.
"I'm merely realizing how stupid I am." Javier's hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes and he sloppily takes one out.
"What do you mean?" You wonder, moving your feet nervously.
"It doesn't matter," he objects, a sardonic air in his voice and mannerisms. "You got a light?"
Puzzled, you take a lighter from your purse, glancing at him in bewilderment. "Did you want it to mean something?"
"Maybe," he shrugs, "I don't know."
The fag hangs loosely from his lips, but you don't hand him the flame just yet, your next movement catching him completely off-guard.
You stand to sit on his lap, forcing his focus on nothing else besides your presence, your body, on you. His chin tilts upwards, eyes fixed on your face with a perplexed spark.
"Talk to me, Javi," you plead softly, your left hand resting on his exposed chest as the other lights the end of the orange filter, the fire illuminating his dark, beautiful gaze. "For once, be honest me. O por lo menos sé honesto contigo mismo."
His heart pounds relentlessly and he's absolutely sure you can tell. Despite the cold ambience, his skin was burning hot under your touch, muscles finally starting to relax underneath you. Javier takes a long drag, his elbow propped up on the armrest as his other hand lays flat on your spine.
"You already know everything, corazón."
"I do not, Peña." You clutch his shirt in anger. "What's up with you? Ever since I came to Colombia you've been turning my life upside down. You never wanted me to go out with anyone, always using the same stupid excuses about it being 'too dangerous', as if I was just some silly kid that couldn't take care of herself." He feels your weight shift on top of him, and it's so distracting that he can barely keep up. "But you also didn't seem to want me. Every other single woman in this country was worthy of your time and recognition; everyone but me. I've been open with you, I've been vulnerable, and you... you just keep sending this mixed signals that are driving me insane! This push and pull game has to stop. What- What do you want from me?"
Screw it.
Screw all of it.
The nicotine in his system kicked in, your smell probably more intoxicating than the alcohol he just drank. Javier wanted answers, but he needed to be straightforward in order to get them.
"You, sweetheart. I want you."
A small frown forms on your face, "Me?" your voice comes out unsure, "Why me?"
His head jerks backwards, hitting the backrest of the seat, a cloud of smoke dancing in between you from the red, burning dart. "You're seriously asking me why I like you?"
"Clearly."
He laughs wryly. "Yo qué coño he de saber, hermosa. I genuinely don't know. 'Been trying to figure it out for a while now, but it's a dead end. You're naive and short tempered, but also sweet and smart. Too fucking much, I might say. Too smart to be seduced by me." You giggle and as he said before, it's contagious. "Which is why I never told you. I didn't want to... Lose you."
And then it clicks for you.
It wasn't that Javier didn't want to be with you. It was that he didn't want you to be part of his world. Yes, you are young and certainly unaware of many things. In contrast, he feels corrupted. He was part of a crude, violent world that would endanger your safety, sanity— your precious ignorance that kept your life so pure. He convinced himself you didn’t feel the same so he wouldn’t have to face the truth.
It must've been hard for him to admit, you know it. Cause it was for you as well.
"Javi, you know the first thing my coworkers told me when I started hanging out with you?" He smiles playfully and shakes his head briefly. "That they knew I was gullible and I shouldn't fall for your gentlemanly façade, cause I'd only end up with a broken heart." Javier stares back into your eyes fixedly, unfazed by your words. You wriggle on his lap, straddling him. "You wanna know the truth?"
"Enlighten me."
Your dress is hitched up, the naked skin of your legs taunts him, your knees spread around his thighs in a way that has his head spinning. You're electrifyingly close. And yet so far at the same time.
"I tried to listen. But failed miserably," you say lowly. "I- " the pads of his fingers rub soothing circles on your upper leg, "I kinda... Fell for you. Shit, I'd get so jealous when your 'informants' would ring the office's phone."
He smiles, full lips parting around the cigarette. "I fucking knew it." You snort, tracing his collarbones with your index. "Why didn't you do something?"
"I didn't want to be tossed aside," you admit in shame.
His eyebrows twinge slightly as he ashes the filter, "You really think that low of me?", he scoffs.
Up until now, you hadn't realize that those words could potentially hurt him. "No. But I was scared and had to look out for myself. After one disastrous long-term relationship, falling for someone as exciting and... outgoing, wasn't my most clever move."
His body goes limp below you, eyes meeting yours with a hint of yearning mixed with soreness. "I see. I'm an asshole that will break your heart. Anything else?"
Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Javi, that's not what I meant..." you cry, but his gaze is dark and stern, dangerous to a certain extent. It makes your stomach turn to think that you might've offended him. "You know I-"
Nothing else comes out, phrases getting stuck in your throat. His hands are no longer on you and the silence and impassivity he exudes are unbearable.
"Show me," he coaxes, and it takes you second to comprehend what he means, until he talks again. "Show me you're not scared anymore."
In other words, Javier wanted you to prove him how much you wanted him. He blows the smoke right in front of your face and other than finding it annoying, you think it's rather hot.
You duck down, both your hands on his shoulders as you shift your weight on top of him. He still doesn't move a a muscle, solely watching as your lips inch closer to his. When they barely brush against the other's, he vaguely turns his face away, doing this a couple of times as a way to provoke you.
"¿Acaso no quieres besarme?" you grumble.
"Al contrario, corazón." Peña admits, "Pero quiero que tú también lo desees. Quiero que tengas tantas ganas de besarme que no puedas contenerte. That way you'll understand what I've felt for the last five months."
So that was the catch. You give him a smug smile, snatching the cigarette from between his fingers and taking a drag under his piercing gaze, blindly putting it out before crashing your lips against his. Your hands hold his face, thumbs running along his jawline as he eagerly kisses you back. The agent groans when you exhale into his mouth, the smoke rolling off your tongue right into his own.
His hands coast up your thighs, slowly making their way to your ass beneath the fabric of your dress as you sigh against his lips when he firmly squeezes the flesh. The kiss is sloppy and abrasive, needy and sensual. He holds the back of your neck with one hand while his lips travel south, caressing and nipping your jaw and bare shoulders.
You grind your hips against his slowly, feeling the excitement between his legs and your own arousal growing. You watch as he delicately tugs down the straps of your dress, letting them fall loosely on your arms and deepening the low-cut on the front, your breasts spilling out.
"No bra? You really had everything sorted out, didn't you?" His voice is lust-strained, eyes gazing up before burying his face between your tits.
"Christ-"
Your nails dig on his shirt when you find a steady pace that creates just the right amount of friction between your clit and the hard bulge on his pants. All the while, Javier tweaks your nipple with his fingers, flicking his tongue over the other— thus, you become noisier.
"Don't worry, hermosa," he whispers, "I'll make sure to treat you how you deserve. So you won't think of running off with another man ever again."
You hum, ruffling his hair while he worked at your sensitive bud, groping your breast with a hand as the other guided the movements of your hips. You're wet in seconds, the smell of his soap making you all fuzzy, added to the constant stimulation he was providing.
"No, Javier." You huff, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck, peppering kisses all over the exposed area.
Both his hands are now on your hips, barely holding as he lets you do as you please. The buttons of his shirt scrape your delicate nipples, increasing the ache on your cunt. He's panting, growing weak with the sound of your moans, the feeling of your lips on him, your tongue licking the hot skin, —strictly where his pulse could be felt— and Jesus- the way you moved had him throbbing painfully. You take a second to contemplate in gratification just how wild you could drive a man even without actually letting him fuck you. It made you realize exactly how much power you had over him.
"No? No, what?" He muses.
"I don't want any other man. You've ruined me for them." Wordlessly, he follows your motions as you sit back on his legs. His eyebrows jump up when he sees the mess you'd made on his pants, guessing your underwear must be drenched by now. Your fingers creep towards his belt, leisurely undoing it along with the fly. "I didn't want anyone else. And after what happened at my office... I was doomed."
The man exhales heavily, running a hand through your locks. His eyes gleam endearingly —such a rare sight on him—, something you're certain it's strictly for you.
"Kiss me again."
It doesn't sound like an order, but a plea.
And how could you say no to him?
When your lips crash together once more, it's like heaven on earth. Everything's blurry, even the storm outside disappeared. All that matters is this precise moment.
His fingers loom over your panties, gasping in your mouth at the dampness that welcomes him. He rubs his thumb over your clit, snatching a small whine from you as he impatiently pushes the fabric to the side. Instinctively, your hand slithers towards his lower abdomen, grasping the base of his already hard cock to pull it out and slowly coming to rub the wet tip. Gently, you bite his bottom lip before breaking apart from the kiss, making him groan in protest. His digits glide between your folds as he eases two fingers inside, making your knees feel weak around him.
"Fuck, Javi-" you grip his shoulder for support when he adds a third one, fascinated by how responsive your body was reacting. "Please..."
"Hm?" he kisses your temple lovingly, "What do you need, sweetheart?"
"You. Inside." How pathetic, you thought. Begging like this— well, it was certainly something a man like him would love. But you'd never experienced this sort of passion, where you desperately wanted to get dicked-down. Javier showed what it is to want, and to be wanted. "Please, I can't- wait any longer."
"Here?" a faint nod, "you want to take control?"
Timidly, you tug at his shirt and search for his eyes. "I've- I have never done this before... Been on top, I mean."
The agent snorts in disbelief. "Seriously? Can't fucking believe it." He still work at your core, ripping out silly whimpers from you. "No te preocupes por eso, corazón. I can guide you, if that's what you want."
"Yes." You reply almost immediately, "Of course, only if you'd like that too-" he takes his fingers out and guides them straight to his lips, licking them clean.
"I'll do anything you ask, hermosa. Just say the word."
For the love of god.
"You can do with me as you please, Javier." You utter, "I'm yours anyway."
His eyelashes bat twice, taking in your words. Then, his lips curl up in a smile and things happen very quick, in a way you can barely register what's going on. He holds you up with one arm, pulling his pants down just enough to give himself some mobility and manhandling you into a position were you could receive him with no trouble. This way, the head grazes your entrance and the sensation is already making your nerves buzz.
"Go on, sit on it."
You use the back of the seat for support and let the man guide you, feeling your back arch in ecstasy as you slowly adapt to his size. He stretches your walls deliciously, though it takes a lot of effort not to collapse on top of him.
"That's it, baby. You're doing so good,” Javier says, voice shaky between shallow breaths. "You look so pretty taking me like this."
"You're so big-" you manage to say, your hands digging into the leather material to keep yourself put together as you settle every last inch of him inside you. And indeed, he was fucking huge in comparison to anyone else you had before.
"Don't close your eyes," he tells you, "Look at me. Mírame a los ojos, preciosa." And so you do, his dark, ardent gaze is all you can see. "Look into my eyes when you ride."
He fills you up entirely and his words make your chest flutter, absolutely lost in everything he was giving you; his scent, his stare, his body. Simply him. Javier Peña.
You're determined to please him, to show that you can be everything he's ever wanted and more. In the midst of all, you lay a hand on his chest for stability as your hips roll to set a pace, struggling to maintain focus when his cock was hitting spots inside that continuously sent drops of liquid pleasure down your spine.
"That's my girl," he coos, pressing light-feathery kisses to your jaw. "My beautiful girl."
Oh, that was it.
His voice, filled with lust and admiration, makes your head spin and heart pound relentlessly. Even though you want to say something in return, you can't muster up the words, reckless cries being the only sound leaving your lips.
You have completely lost any sanity left in you, consumed by this new light of passion that he has managed to ignite. And Javier loves it. He loved that etching confidence in your eyes and the way your tits bounced in front of his face as you jumped up and down his cock, moaning his name. He's in fucking paradise.
His hands slither towards your ass, splaying his palms to hold you. He helps you out, thrusting his hips up deeply, harshly; filling every spot you were unable to. Your bodies move in synch, unconsciously attuned to recognize each other's desires. It amazes you just how much fulfillment you can receive from sex, when in the past it was nothing more but pain and nuisance, a simple duty to make a man happy. Now you see it: your pleasure was his pleasure too. It became crystal clear with each kiss, every touch or shared glance.
"Javi- I can't..." inevitably, you collapse on his shoulder, your legs growing weaker by the second.
You feel warm all over, the storm sounds mixed with the filthiness of his groans and sexual demeanors thickened the air. He embraces you with one arm around your waist and a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you still and taking over the situation. Your fingernails lightly scratch his scalp as he grinds his cock inside you, building an amazing heat between your thighs and making that bundle of nerves pulse each time it grazed the buttons of his shirt.
In the thick of the moment, you lick the delicate area in the underside of his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin and drawing a gruffly moan from his lips. He can tell how close you are, in fact, he can feel it; your pussy swallowing him whole and clenching tightly around his throbbing shaft, edging him further.
"I won't last," you warn, dragging your nails over his shoulders, under the shirt. "Javi, it's too much- I feel so..."
"Fuck- I know, corazón," he grumbles, his thrusts become rougher and it makes your head spin. "Say it again."
You know what he wants to hear, it's perfectly simple to figure out.
For heaven's sake, he looks divine. His lips slightly parted, head thrown back and a fire gleaming behind his brown orbs, focused merely on you. He grounds you with a grip of steel on your hip while your fingertips roam across his features, wanting to imprint this exact moment in your mind forever.
"I'm yours, Javi." It comes out as a devoted prayer as he leans forward to kiss the hollow of your throat, his teeth and mustache teasing your reddened skin.
"That's right," he grunts, the sound of his hoarse breaths and your dripping cunt suddenly being muffled by a whir in your ears and your vision going hazy. 
Javier takes great pride in your corrupted expression and the broken whines that escape your mouth when you finally reach your high. His pace quickens and he cradles you in his arms, your hands enveloping his neck as your whole body quivers from the intensity of your orgasm, still crashing into you. He can't hold back his own noises, chasing his release desperately while also fucking you through yours. This angle where his lower body is firmly pressed against your pelvis applies new pressure to your clit in a way that has you calling for god.
And the way you soak him down to his thighs, the way you squeeze around his length— has him coming with one last, deep thrust of his hips. He calls your name but you can barely hear it, too distracted by the warmth of his cum inside you.
Even after he's finished, Javier won't let go of you. Not that you want him to anyway.
He takes a second to revel in the moment, knowing he had been craving this ever since he laid eyes on you. You can feel his heart hammering under you, feel the way he —rather slowly— softens inside and both your bodies go limb.
And still, he refuses to part, swaying a palm across your bare back. You feel sore, sticky, but overall, serene. At peace. 
"Javi?" you say his name and it sounded perfectly poised despite your exhausted exterior.
"Mhm?" your hot breath hits his golden skin as you try to settle down your accelerated pulse and failing miserably at the sight of his adoring smile. "What is it, preciosa?"
"Would you stay the night?" He laughs breathlessly at your unsure tone.
"On one condition," he muses, picking your interest. "Promise you won't go out on that date."
"I don't know..." you play dumb, bucking up to get on your feet while struggling with your wobbly legs. "It's not exactly a date so, does it matter?"
You rearrange your dress and ruined underwear, settling on the couch beside him as he mirrors your action.
"Not really, no," he's very aware of your taunting and is willing to lead you on. "But you've made me greedy. Now I want you all to myself."
His words draw a smirk on your face. "Are you saying you'd be jealous?" The agent shrugs, aiming for another cigarette. "I won't go. Though, I ought to give Mia a good excuse for canceling our plans."
Javier smiles cockily, taking the unlit dart to his lips. "Just tell her you've already got a man waiting for you."
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satorustyles · 10 months
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you can't fall asleep (a gojo one shot)
a/n: hi! yay to my first post! i'm still exploring the jjk fandom and spoiling myself with fics and drabbles while waiting for the next episode, and this definitely won't be the last one i'm writing! i'll be making more parts of this with the other jjk men but for now, pls enjoy this gojo one shot! -bear
nanami kento version here!
sukuna version here!
warnings: none, just pure fluff and sleepy!reader <3
word count: 851
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Whenever you felt restless and needed to get enough sleep for a mission the next day, Gojo was always one step ahead of making sure you slept early. He's the one who assigned you on that mission, anyway. So, of course, as your teacher (and lover), he always ensured that his student got enough rest, not knowing the outcome of every mission. It would range from a few hours to a few days. The longest one you've been on was three days, and Gojo felt terrible for keeping you up the evening prior.
You tossed and turned in your shared bed, crying that the chamomile tea your boyfriend prepared for you did not make you sleepy at all. You stared at the small digital clock on your bedside table, the green numbers glowing 11:21 PM. You were going to meet the rest of the team at five in the morning.
You wanted to cry.
Gojo was still outside in the living room, talking to Utahime on the phone, finalizing the plans for the mission the next day. From the open door of your bedroom, you could hear the seriousness in his tone and you didn't want to interrupt him. Knowing Gojo, he would just drop whatever he was doing and tend to you, whatever you needed. Not that you complained about that.
But you were just getting desperate. Every second you spent awake was a second wasted that was supposed to be for sleeping. You had no choice but to whine about it to your boyfriend.
With your blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you made your way to the dark living room. The only light visible was the one coming from the muted television, illuminating the small space and your boyfriend's lean and slender figure on the couch, phone propped up against his ear.
He immediately noticed your form standing by the doorway, his bright blue eyes staring down at you despite the darkness of the room. Utahime was still talking on the phone, but his attention was already on you, smiling as he gestured for you to come near him.
"Hi," He whispered once you were in front of him. "Sorry, did I make you wait long? C'mere." He held your wrist and gently tugged you down towards him, and you situated yourself on his lap and rested your head on the crook of his neck. His strong arm was quick to wrap you closer to him, keeping his hold on you tight while his other hand held onto his phone.
"Utahime, I gotta go. I'll call you back in the morning." Without waiting for the teacher's response, he hung up and dropped his phone next to him with a soft thud.
"Angel," He whispered, dipping his head and kissing your forehead softly. "I thought you were already asleep."
"I can't sleep, Gojo." You grumbled frustratedly. The white-haired man could only chuckle amusedly as he fixed your position on his lap, granting him access to your neck. He began trailing soft kisses down your jaw, trailing down to your neck and shoulders. His hands gripped the edges of your blanket and wrapped them tighter around your body, trapping your arms inside.
"My poor baby," He cooed softly, nuzzling his head against your neck. "Were you waiting for me to help you sleep?"
You could only muster a grumbled sound, enough to confirm Gojo's inkling. He smiled fondly at your grumpy attitude, keeping himself from laughing lest he wanted his baby to get even angrier. No, sir, he definitely knew better.
He then stood up, carrying you with him bridal style as he made his way to your bedroom. He then gently put you down and you watched as he positioned himself behind you, leaning his back against the headboard and pulling you towards him.
"Will this do?" He whispered to you, and you turned around to meet his face before plopping yourself on top of him, your stomach against his and your head resting on his chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist as Gojo's hand reached up to push the strands of hair back from your forehead before he planted another soft kiss, the feel of his lips on your skin making you warm and fuzzy inside. It's like he has some kind of magic against you that always made you weak when he was this close to you.
Which was why you always needed him whenever you couldn't sleep.
"Sleep, doll." He whispered against your skin, rubbing slow circles on your back, eventually making you sleepy. Yes, finally. "I'll be right here with you."
“I love you,” You sighed contentedly, planting a soft kiss on his chest and you could feel the way his breath hitched at the action.
“I love you, sweet one.” He whispered back, his one arm pulling you closer to him whilst his other hand continued to rub your back soothingly, the feel of his long fingers tracing the curve of your back pulling you to sleep with every breath. “Tomorrow, I’ll be watching closely when you leave for your mission. You don’t need to worry about anything.”
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vilsoo · 5 months
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prize counter girl ☆ ten
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➥ michael afton x camgirl!reader
you've been a camgirl for only a few months and everyone loves the content you post. when michael afton porn surfs to relieve his stress, he comes across your videos. the more he jerks off to your content, the more he's addicted. but it wasn't until, a few months later, he sees your familiar face as the new employee working at the prize counter.
chapter warnings. sex work mentions, so much flirting
notes. we’re backkkk 😋😏😫😍‼️ i hope y’all enjoy this adorable, lovely chapter that i KNOW yall have been dying for. here’s some yummy food @ihrtlert
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pcg materlist • previous • chapter eleven
As much as you wanted to keep making out with Michael in the dimly lit hallways of the pizzaplex and escalate things further, he had a few things to do before locking up the place. First things first, cleaning up the supply closet and then finish organizing the boxes of new prizes and supplies for the arcade. It was his fault for getting himself distracted like this, staying much longer than he was supposed to that you decided to offer some help.
But that didn't mean the end of your night together.
"So. What made you wanna stay during closing tonight, hm?" he teased as he was closing the closet door. "And where were you hiding this whole time, anyway?"
You were leaning against the checker-patterned wall as you fixate on him, smirking in a subtle snarky manner. "Upstairs where the bar and lounge are at. I wanted to check out for myself what was upstairs and then... that's when I found you.
"Oh? Roaming around where you're not supposed to, I see..." Michael mirrored your smirk, dipping his head lower and inhaling your sweet scent that drives him insane. Just like before, the gap between you two is now inevitably thin, feeling his body heat transmitting onto your chest as you arched your back against the wall.
"Aw, am I in trouble?" you bantered, settling your gaze on him with the right kind of heat and ardor pooling in your flaunting eyes. It was the same look you gave him in the break room today. The same look when you cleaned his cum off his cock. Your fucking "fuck me" eyes. The look you give him as if you're undressing him without even touching him that drives every fiber of his being to just... ravage you.
"We'll both be in trouble if you keep fucking looking at me like that," he murmured in your ear with his tone falling sharper and stricter, a shiver coursing down your spine. He was frustrated. A little enraged, even. And that turned you the fuck on that even Michael could tell.
In such close proximity and prolonged silence, you gaze intensely into each other's eyes one last time, surrendering to this imbalance of power and unfair seduction, that he immediately had to pull away before he got carried away again. In just a fleeting moment, the both of you snapped back into reality.
"I— I, uh, have to lock up," he sputters. "You can go through the regular exit to the back parking lot since there's no cameras. I'll go through the main exit where I parked."
You sighed deeply as if your heart sank, pushing yourself off the wall with your gaze attached on the floor. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Michael...."
"You too," he beams, slightly agitated, but involuntarily raising his arms out as a gesture for a hug. He wanted to feel the warmth of your body melting onto him one last time, an inhale of your scent to linger in his nose, to at least hold you as if he wanted to protect you. His heart then palpitated when you wrap your arms around his neck and laid the side of your head on his chest, your lips stretching to a smile at how fast his heart was beating.
Michael never wanted to let go.
This embrace felt like the longest he's ever hugged a woman. But after glancing at the clock on the wall and noticing it was almost 12AM, you had to separate. He was here closing the pizzaplex for an hour, way past the time he was supposed to leave. But for some reason tonight, he wasn't feeling all sleepy or tired from work. As if he felt that same rush of energy he got from kissing you last night...
When you already left to the parking lot with your stuff, Michael was lingering in his thoughts. An ongoing battle in his mind, his leg bouncing up and down from this sudden burst of energy as he sat alone in his car. Thinking of you. Thinking of the confession. Every thought of his was consumed by you, and only you, like a triggered springlock clawing into the depths of flesh and bones, unable to escape.
Tomorrow is another day with her. Just ask her out in the morning.
A nice, innocent date where she can dress up and look pretty while I treat her and spoil her.
But tomorrow is too long from now, man.
I'd rather lose hours of sleep than lose a simple last minute date night with her I've been wanting for so long.
He was the only car parked in this lot while yours was on the south side of the building where all the employees are supposed to park. Throwing away his inhibitions like he always does, he speeds around to the corner of your designated parking spot, hoping that you didn't leave yet. To Michael's luck, you were still there turning your engine on.
Your heart fluttered when you suddenly see his car in your peripheral vision pull up beside you on your left, facing the opposite direction so he could be closer to you in the driver's seat. His window was already down with his elbow resting on its ledge, an exhilarated smile on his face as if he just couldn't wait to see you again.
You couldn't help but laugh as you rolled down your window, shaking your head. "I knew you were gonna come around."
"Well, you said it yourself. I enjoy your company as much as you enjoy mine," he teases, his heart still thundering in his chest in agitation even after he motivated himself just awhile ago.
"Shouldn't you be catching up with your hours on sleep? I know I made you stay a little late..."
"You don't have to worry about me. I've actually been sleeping pretty good recently," he smiles, dismissing the fact that you really were at fault for his lack of sleep the past couple of months— but he allowed it.
"That's good to hear," you bantered. "Did you drive all the way here to be my passenger prince again?"
Michael chortled, finding his laughter and the way his eyes crinkle adorable to you. He then inhaled sharply with his teeth clenched, mentally preparing himself and ruminated on his thoughts before speaking.
"Ah, well... After what just happened back there, I— I didn't want our sudden late night together to end just like that..."
"Oh? Is my manager... asking me out on a Sunday night?"
“Not your manager," he corrected. "Your biggest fan."
When you drift your gaze onto Michael, a warm, bonny sensation dissolves onto his skin from the way your eyes glimmered at him. A surging tide of ardor and infatuation blossoming in your stomach— this man would never fail to surprise you, to be the cause of your body surrendering to the charming side of his personality. He could tell you were robbed of speech and so was he— but then again, time was limited.
"And yeah— I know it's really last minute," he continues with a slight stammer, "believe me, if I had the time to take you out, I would've planned ahead. You know, so you can have enough time to dress up and get ready and not have to show up in your daily attire or even your work uniform—"
"Michael, it's fine. I would love to go out with you," you reassured to him sweetly. The way he rambled, the way you can tell he's still nervous and stumbling over his words urged you to just shut him up with another kiss. Good thing he wasn't your passenger prince for tonight or you might've recreated what happened last night... perhaps escalate things more than just a heated, intense make-out session.
Michael blinked rapidly like he just had a double-take. "Oh. Then, uh... you'll just have to follow me and we'll meet there."
"Do you know where we're going?" you asked, grabbing the clutch of your stick shift from park position to drive.
"It's only, like, fifteen minutes from here. Definitely a nice, relaxing getaway place from work. I think you'd love it."
You never thought that you'd experience these kind of late nights with Michael; stargazing together, admiring the stunning cityscape, and indulging in the nightly, tranquil ambiance of this perfect night. There was a place in downtown that he knew, a secluded hilltop that shows the breathtaking view of the twinkling city and midnight sky. As you sat on the hood of his car and relaxed under the stars, it was also a perfect time to ruminate on life and have more than just "small talk" outside of work.
"...To be honest, sex work has always been physically and mentally exhausting," you confided to him. "I don't even know why girls who just turned 18 all of a sudden wanna be in the porn industry. There's so many fucked up people online that can exploit these young and impressionable girls— believe me, I've seen everything in less than 5 months I started. There's a dark side to this industry that's never talked about or even forewarned before you do sex work."
Michael had his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder in comfort. "I always thought that shit was weird... It's always social media that pressures those young girls to do sex work for 'empowerment' when in reality... it'll just destroy them, right?"
"Yeah. That's why I never take sex work too seriously and didn't want this to be my career. I mean, yeah there will be times when I do it for fun and earn good money from my viewers, but... that's only the glamorized part of it all. In the end, sex workers shouldn't be demonized, but the industry shouldn't be glorified, either. I will always support women who do this because of their financial situation, as long as they're cautious and understand their reality."
"You're absolutely right," he says. "I'll always be supporting you too, you know. It's just— I still can't get my head wrapped around the fact that we actually work together. My first time seeing you, I literally didn't know how to function. I was just like... holy shit."
The two of you chuckled as your mind replayed the way Michael seized up after seeing you for the first time that day. "I've never seen a man fold like that ever," you teased. "You were so awkward in real life compared to when we chatted online. That's why I had my doubts, but— it was kinda hot seeing you all shy and nervous around me."
I won't be the one shy and nervous next time...
Michael scoffs, grinning down at the ground. "I mean, could you blame me? I didn't expect the camgirl I masturbate to working here with me."
"Oh my god, shutup," you bantered, lightly tapping him with your knuckles.
Michael couldn't believe that after so much time had passed until a few days ago when he fist met you, you were starting to be comfortable with each other. Aside from just flirting and intense sexual tension, there was something else existing between you two that just felt... surreal.
This beautiful balance of having flirty banter, sarcasm, and humor that would go to being sweet and genuine with each other, and then being able to empathize together, opening up to each other about serious things in life... This kind of connection for him was not only what he's been craving, but what he cherishes, something so special that he would never want to lose.
"...What's your schedule looking like the next couple weeks?" Michael asks, slanting his head closer to yours just to take in your scent again.
"Hm. I think I might be off next Friday..."
“Oh really? I'm also off that Friday too," he replied sardonically, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"What about your dad?" you piqued. "Do you think he's gonna get suspicious of us at work?"
Michael's hummed, slightly perturbed as he thought about the times where his dad pestered him just from seeing you two together. "It's kinda hard to tell, you know? Him suspecting his employees having something going on is the least of his priorities. Like, he won't be watching us all the time, especially on the cameras. But if we make things way too obvious... he's not that dumb. We'll definitely get in trouble."
"I get it. I think it's best to keep our distance just in case," you suggested, settling your gaze onto his face as you leaned on his shoulder. There goes that look again, beguiling him wholeheartedly. Your riveting, doe eyes with the moonshine reflecting off the lens has never looked so beautiful. But whether this was intentional or not, he can sense that you love making him feel this way.
She is the only one that does this to me.
She drives me crazy. She makes me act out of control until I'm not longer myself.
And she takes sick fucking pleasure while doing it.
She knows what she does to me.
"You and I both know that's fucking impossible," he coaxed, turning himself to stand in front of you while caressing your waist. "I can't stand not being around you. Talking to you on break or even after work isn't enough for me."
You find yourself leaning against the hood of Michael's Audi as he inches closer. Your breath nearly faltered from the way his fingertips glides against your skin, drizzling you with goosebumps. A sweet sensation interwoven, burning every molecule of desire in your bodies. He's been aching to caress you, to hold you safe in his arms, to touch you in places that sends you right over the edge... Nothing could help the fact that the both of you were touch-starved deep down.
"The supply closet and a few other places downstairs," he mutters into your ear, "there's no cameras. I know you love showing off in front of cameras, but... a private show wouldn't hurt, hm? That is— of course, whenever you're down for it. Not like I'm gonna randomly snatch you and then we have a quickie. That's insane."
You bursted out laughing from his sudden tone shift, him being all flirty and then back to his sarcastic self. "You're funny, Michael."
"Well, in all seriousness... That Friday I'll also be requesting time off. We'll have the whole day to ourselves— and I'll definitely have a perfect first date planned for us."
Your arms slither around his neck, lips just mere inches away from his as both of your hearts pound in excitement. "I can't wait," you murmured fondly.
Michael presses his lips against yours, melting onto each other passionately right under the pale moonlight. This beautiful feeling, this beautiful sense, this basking of pleasure knowing that he's all yours— not only admitting his dirty little secrets and the lustful pining had brought you two closer than ever, but also the intimate, ardent feelings you both had for each other was mutual.
Now that he can be himself without acting so painfully awkward around you, so much burden had finally lifted off his shoulders. No more secrets, nothing else to hide from each other anymore. But there were still a few more problems the both of you had to inevitably face at work— one of them being William Afton if he ever suspected that his employees are officially dating each other.
Fuck the fraternization policy.
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐎 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access.
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