#i barely even know how to make one in the way i do it now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

txt-trash · 2 days

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⋅˚₊‧ secretly dating TXT ‧₊˚ ⋅

3.2k words. headcannon. boyfriend!txt x fem!reader, nondescriptive smut scenes. light jealousy. friends to lovers. mentions of phone sex, mutual masturbation, oral sex, riding

ᯓ★ YEONJUN

He’s real cheeky about it, always has a little smirk on his face when you step into the room and he’s so sure no one knows what’s going on but he’s also so obvious about it. Even if they don’t think you’re dating, they definitely think there’s feelings there.

Yeonjun is always the type to try and impress you too, has to show off how good he is at things and makes sure you’re watching when he does.

Anytime you go out with them, he’s going to make sure you’re by him or if you split off into groups he’s going to be with you. Every now and then he tries to hold your hand and has to remind himself to chill out until he sees Beomgyu or someone take your attention then suddenly he’s snatching you away with some excuse.

“We’re gonna go get drinks,” Yeonjun says as he practically drags you away from Kai who had been trying to take a selfie with you, “Who wants something?”

“I’ll come wi—“

“We don’t need everyone, the line’s already long,” he argues, making sure to pull you behind him, “We’ll be quick.”

“Could you make it any more obvious?” You ask him once the two of you are far enough from the others. He smirked, interlacing your fingers together, “I can if you want me too.”

If it isn’t obvious yet, Yeonjun is not good at keeping it a secret. He is confident in his ability to keep it on the low until he gets in too good of a mood, then all he wants to do is put his hands on you.

Especially when you go out for drinks and you’re wearing one of his favorite outfits dancing to some song you like and swaying your hips with just the right amount of rhythm that he feels hypnotized.

Usually, he’ll have to distract himself talking with the others but after one too many drinks, he’ll make his way toward you and push away whoever you’re dancing with so you can focus on him and him alone, hands playfully tracing the curve of your hips, sliding under the hem of your shirt and smirking when you push his hand away.

By the time you call it a night, it’s hard to keep your boyfriend off you and you end up barely making it past the door of your apartment when he’s already pushing you up against the wall with his mouth on yours.

He likes taking his time with you, he swears, but something he gets a little too eager. It’s difficult ‘keeping it a secret’ and sometimes all he wants to do is get down on his knees and show you how much he appreciates you.

He has one of your legs thrown over his shoulders, teasing your inner thighs with soft bites that make your breath hitch.

“Don’t be a tease,” you tried to sound playful but it was hard when you felt breathless from the way he pinched your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

“Oh, like how you weren’t being a tease in front of everyone?” He asked, kissing your clit softly, earning a light moan to fall from your lips.

“Not on purpose,” you sighed, head back against the wall as you closed your eyes to soak in the feeling of his tongue between your wet folds. Yeonjun knew exactly what to do with your body. Maybe it’s because you started off as friends, learned everything it was about each other that when it came to getting intimate, it didn’t take long for him to know what to do to make you moan his name.

And he loved the sound of your voice when you moaned for him so lovingly. His tongue does wonders between your legs and when paired with his long fingers, you can’t help but let yourself fall for him harder every time.

ᯓ★ SOOBIN

Nervous boyf to the core. We know he likes to joke around with TXT and technically speaking you are their friend but when you start dating Soobin…

Oh it’s like a schoolboy crush he’s got to hide. He used to be just as playful with you as before but now he’s scared to get too close because what if he kisses you? Oh my goodness, how would he hold himself back if he gets too close?

Sometimes when you’re around everyone he’ll sit down next to you and spread his legs a little further so that nobody else can squeeze in between you and he’ll make sure that his leg touches yours. If he’s feeling extra bold he might put his hand on your thigh, squeeze it a little and try to cover up his teasing by doing the same to Taehyun or Kai under pretense of joking around.

But let’s not forget about jealous boyfriend Soobin.

“No, Y/n, this is a serious question,” Yeonjun reached for your hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “Who do you think is hotter? Me or Soobin.”

You made the mistake of jokingly saying, ‘You’ thinking Soobin would obviously know you’re only saying it to make Yeonjun feel better but boy were you wrong.

He was upset, visibly upset to the point that when you looked over at him, he would give you a side eye and look away. Everyone noticed it too and found it damn near comical that he was so bothered by it but of course they didn’t know why. He didn’t even talk to you about it till later that night.

“I was joking, Binnie,” you clung to him from behind, “Of course I think you’re so much better looking than anyone but if I said you, everyone would think somethings up. They already think I favorite yo—“

“As you should! I’m your boyfriend, you should favorite me,” He would argue with a cute pout.

He's never an angry type of jealous, usually he gets pouty and thinks about it for days which in turn leaves you wanting to prove to him how much you prefer him over anyone else.

“Jagi,” Soobin had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep his voice down but it was getting hard—well, he was, “Everyone is w-waiting for us.”

“So?” You asked, kissing down his chest as you pushed his shirt up and without being told to, he held it up with the hem between his teeth. He even lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, “I’ve missed you.”

Your hand teased his growing bulge, palming his erection over his briefs as you got more comfortable in the backseat of his car. The parking garage was dark and almost empty but he still looked out the windows nervously.

You were supposed to be meeting your friends for a game night and he had told them all he was going to pick you up since you were ‘on the way’ to the dorms, but in reality he needed a little more time with you alone. He just didn’t think that meant you’d ask him to meet you in the backseat so you could show him how much you missed him with your lips around his cock.

And what was he supposed to do when they texted him asking where you were? Was he supposed to tell them that he was moaning your name while hiding down in the parking garage? His hands in your hair, head thrown back with pleasure and abs tightening every time he took a deep breath.

“So good,” he sighed blissfully, eyes threatening to fall shut when your tongue traced the vein that traveled down his length, “Don’t wanna go see them anymore.”

“We have to,” you released him from your mouth, stroking him teasingly, “Or else they’ll get suspicious.”

And by the time you made it upstairs, Soobin couldn’t bother to care about the complaints from everyone about your tardiness. Not when it was taking everything in him not to just pull you into his lap and kiss you for everyone to see.

ᯓ★ BEOMGYU

He’s probably the only member who’s actually good at hiding the fact that he’s dating you.

He jokes with you the same way he jokes with everyone else so no one would ever know that when he touches you under the table, he likes to tease too.

They don’t know that when he says he’s going to play an arcade and sneaks away from the dorm, he’s actually going over to your place when no one’s around and hanging out with you.

In all honesty, he’s probably the best ‘friends to lovers’ of them all. You’re his best friend and have been for a while so when the two of you started dating, it just became like an added perk.

Not only does he get to game with you and crack jokes but now he gets to kiss you and make you feel good too.

It’s great, seriously, and the only downside to it is how serious he comes off to you. Sometimes you struggle to remember he's more than just a friend and sometimes he forgets to remember he doesn’t like it when the others get too close to you.

It’s only okay when he gets close to you, not Soobin, Beomgyu, Taehyun or even Kai. He’s made it clear he’s your ‘best friend’ so yes, he does feel like he has a right to get jealous sometimes.

“What does it matter, Gyu? You got up so I took your seat,” Kai laughed, making himself comfortable next to you on the couch, “The movies about to start just sit next to Jun.”

“But I was sitting there first,” Beomgyu practically stomped his foot in a tantrum, “I went to make Y/n and I popcorn, how are we supposed to share if you took my seat?”

Meaning: how am I supposed to cuddle with Y/n under the blanket if you’re in the way?

“Kai, don’t be mean, he was sitting there first,” you laughed, glancing over at Beomgyu who was pouting now, “Maybe you guys should ‘Paper, Rock, Scissors’ this and the winner gets to sit next to me.”

You gave them both a cheeky smile which made Kai roll his eyes and cringe, “Ew, I don’t want to sit next to you anymore.”

“Then move,” Beomgyu said, already forcing himself down next to you and pushing Kai out the way.

Even when the two of you are all alone and you get too touchy, it’s always playful. There’s always giggles here and there and jokes that make you both stop and laugh.

And after a while he gets lazy with his excuses. He stays out later and when he doesn’t make it home some nights, everyone knows by this time that he’s probably just hanging out with you.

“I’m going to the arcade.”

“With Y/n?”

“No, by myself.”

“Right, I thought you’d be with your best friend tonight.”

It’s only when neither of you answer the phone that the rumors start circulating.

“Oh my god, just ignore it,” Beomgyu groaned as your phone rang for the third time. Soobin and Kai were blowing up your phone after you promised to play them online tonight. Meanwhile you’re naked in bed with your boyfriend who just looks so pretty under you.

He even knew you were supposed to be gaming and that’s why he came over to keep your attention from drifting to anyone but him.

“So greedy, all the time,” you moaned softly, raising your hips against his member and sinking back down to feel the way he stretched your walls for you, “Always want my attention. I thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“I do,” he nearly whimpered, fingers digging into your thighs with pleasure, “But it’s hard.”

ᯓ★ TAEHYUN

He’s even worse at hiding it than Yeonjun. He’s just too clingy and he can’t really hide that even around the other members. He’s already touchy with the others but when it comes to his girlfriend? Boy, oh boy.

He likes to touch your thigh under the table or trace your spine whenever you stand in front of him and no one’s looking. When you run your fingers through his hair while watching a movie, he tends to get a little lost in the feeling and starts to doze off with his head practically on your lap.

The others ignore it for the most part but every now and then Kai will try to make a comment about his touchiness toward you and suddenly Taehyun has to act out.

One time the two of you almost got caught getting a little too close while at the bar and he literally pushed you off him before Yeonjun could see you try and kiss him. He ended up paying for that in the end.

“Jagi, just one kiss,” Taehyun begged later that night when you rejected his second attempt since you got back to your place. You weren’t actually mad at him but he liked messing with you so what was wrong with it’s you doing it back?

“Well I tried to give you a kiss earlier and you pushed me away, remember?” You asked, hiding your smirk and turning your back to him. Taehyun didn’t like that at all, and practically pounced on your bed to hold you.

“But I want it now.”

Hes a jealous guy too, a quiet, introverted jealous guy. He won’t say anything but there’ll be signs. He’ll keep his eyes on you and whoever you’re with and have no shame about it.

One time you asked Soobin to help you reach something instead of Taehyun and he couldn’t hide how annoyed he was by it. He even went as far as mocking you for it later that night.

Whenever you’re more distracted by your phone than him, he’s always gotta try and get your attention back on him.

Usually, if you’re alone, it’s with little touches here and there.

He likes playfully pulling at your shirt to bring you closer to him, smile on his face when you whine at being exposed.

You’ll try and escape his affection but you always end up giving in and you end up making out on your couch when you’re finally alone.

He’s handsy too, he loves the way you feel under his fingertips especially when your skirts rolled up and he’s gotten your panties off.

“So soft,” he always reminds you when he traces a finger along your clit, massaging into it with some of your slick. He’s always gentle when he touches you, always kisses down your sides and aims to please you first.

“Mhm,” you moan lightly, hand brushing his soft hair back so you could see his big boba eyes look up at you while he kisses your navel. They distract you from his hand until you feel his middle finger tease your entrance.

“It’s so hard to keep my hands off you,” he always makes sure to remind you when he’s making you feel good with those hands. He’s never shy when it comes to touching you either, always knows just when to curl his fingers or rub your clit while he does it. When he can tell you’re close, he likes to kiss you, swallow your moans and feel your tighten around his fingers.

ᯓ★ KAI

He thought it would be easy at first but he quickly realized how wrong he was.

In the beginning, he did his best to treat you like a friend and nothing else. He would talk to you like he talks to the other members and he wouldn’t make a scene whenever you talked too long to someone else.

He would only get nervous when you would look at him for too long, or wink at him, talk about how he’s your favorite or sit close to him.

And you loved to get him riled up when no one’s looking.

You’re the one to usually initiate something, like when you casually trace your fingers through his hair.

How is he supposed to act unbothered by it?

When you’re out with them all and someone tries hitting on you, and you have to quietly explain that you’re kind of seeing someone which leads the others to ask who, how is Kai not supposed to shout out that it’s him?

How’s he supposed to just join in with the interrogation and act like he doesn’t know anything either?

“Wait, have we met him?” Yeonjun asks you and none of them seem to notice how you look over at Kai and smile so innocently while he’s sweating billets.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you always say, half laughing at how annoyed they all look and Kai has to pretend to be just as annoyed when in reality he wants to smile too.

“I don’t think we’ll ever know,” he’ll try and pipe in, trying not to smirk and when they’re not looking at him, he winks at you and enjoys the little secret you share.

To be honest, you’re the one who fell for him first.

For some reason his cringey jokes and over the top laugh really pulled you in and when you made the move on him, he hadn’t known what to think.

For the longest he thought of you as a friend so the night you were on video call playing a game together and you were laying on your bed, barely covered by the blanket… he kept getting distracted.

Then you would say something flirty while shifting around and showing the little shorts you wore to sleep and how they barely covered anything, along with your tank top. He would remind himself that you’re just a friend and he’s probably reading too into it

So everything was on the low to begin with. None of the others knew how the two of you would spend almost every night on the phone together and Kai could tell them but why would he? So that they could think they could call you too and take your attention away?

Plus, did he really want them to know about how you looked fresh out the shower on the phone with him? Or how you sounded when you whispered softly with your hand down your panties asking if he’s touching himself too?

And it was known Kai had such a nice voice that you couldn’t help but encourage him to let you hear it when he stroked his stiff member in his bedroom late at night.

“I can’t hear you,” you would remind him, hand touching down your body and showing the camera what he can’t see in person.

“They’re going to hear me,” he whispers, letting out a small moan when you pull down your top and tease him with a view of your bare chest.

“Everyone’s asleep,” you say, “Please? It’s not fair, I don’t ever get to see you alone.”

Your words always got to him, and he would stroke himself just a little faster and whisper, “I want to see you too.”

::.

I’ve been gone for months and I needed something kind of quick and easy to write so hope you guys liked it 😭should I do more of these?

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undercoverpena · 3 days

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meet me in the city where we won't sleep

javier peña x f!reader | main masterlist

summary: home: a place where we feel most comfortable, loved, and protected — where we most feel at home. except javi, who has returned from colombia and feels his home is living miles away.

wordcount: 9k (i'm so sorry)warnings: childhood best friend!javi. flirting. 18+ - although just a little smutty with fingers. brief mention of drunkenness years ago. emotions (ugh) and feelings (yuk) and idiots who just don't wanna confess things but really should. javi calls you flor and you call him a pineapple. alternating times.

an: originally started for april showers, it's taken me an age to get this done because i wanted it to be perfect. i really hope it is. the biggest thank you to @thetriumphantpanda who read all of this and gave me a gold star. it would have stayed in my drafts if not for you. thank you to @rhoorl for checking my spanish.

It would have been cliche to say he fell for you in a field of bluebonnets—your dress white, face glum, hands ripping up blooms from the soil that you clutched in your hand.

Lost, aimless, both in the blue of the petals and in your thoughts as you continued to yank stems up and bring bunches to your nose, unaware of him watching from the tree. His legs swung, and a smile slid into one cheek as the leaves rustled above in the warm breeze.

It took a while before you noticed him, practically half a field’s worth in your hands, hands wound around them as your dress swished at your ankles.

“What do you want, Piña?”

He supposed, for kids, that was an insult.

“What you doing in my field, Flor?”

Javi didn’t know your name then. Now he struggled to go a minute without thinking it.

Sitting still hadn’t seemed a possibility in the days since he’d been back.

And then, that’s all he’d done for the last eight hours before he was greeted by rain.

It’s relentless, an onslaught that blurs the world into a watery haze. The kind that soaks through every layer of clothing like a challenge; the type that drips from everything, making pools in the streets and turning them into dark mirrors, reflecting the grey and full clouds from above.

Not that Javi cares.

If anything, he likes it. Finds it cleansing, like the world is being washed clean, even if he knows how untrue that actually is as his eyes follow a bead rushes across the glass of the cab.

The driver has been mumbling about the weather for the entire journey—a thing he’s barely listened to since he’d recommended waiting for a break in the weather. It was likely they just didn’t wish to drop him where he’d described, rather hoping Javi would opt for someplace warmer, most likely smokier, so that he could call it a day too.

Javi doesn't do that now—smoking, that is.

Hasn’t done since he left that apartment that never felt like his, in a city that he’d spent years in that never felt like home. Threw them in the trashcan before his Pop had picked him up, craved and wanted all the way through dinner. He’d done it once, he’d do it again.

When the cab screeches to a halt, he pays, steps out (bag in hand) and spots the phone booth all in one fluid motion. It’s barely lit, front weathered by time and neglect. Smirk curling into his cheek as he remembers you telling him about it—that on cloudless days you can see it, likes to make stories about it as you enjoy a meal-for-one or crunches down cereal.

It hadn’t been a thing he’d thought much about.

Then, it was all he had thought about.

Standing there, making a story that could become real. A gesture, kind and deserving of someone who had put up with his shit since they were children. You’d always liked those big moments in the movies—his eyes glancing over at you, finding yours big, wide and shimmering with tears that wish to glide down your cheek.

Although, that had been well over a decade ago—the two of you had remained in touch, close, or as much as he could allow. Your visit to Colombia had still felt like the sunniest day, a bright spot in a sea of dark; a day that coloured his world in shades he hadn’t known existed, that dulled the moment he’d had to bid farewell at the airport.

It hadn’t been safe for you to do another, pleading in fact to not risk it. A thing, he suspects, is not a thing he’s been easily forgiven for.

He supposes it’s why he hasn’t told you he was coming. The flight had been booked, bag packed—fingers tapping, soul hoping you wouldn’t turn him away once he’d gotten here. To the phone box over the bridge from your place—the one obscured from view by the downpour that seemed never-ending.

Because, as soon as two weeks had racked up at him being home, he found himself itching to move, to be somewhere other than surrounded by fields and the watchful stare of his Pop. Parental worry a hard thing to hide from in a home washed in memories.

Sliding open the door, cramming himself into the booth, Javi had no concern about remembering your number. It was burned into him, etched into him with a blunt tool—almost studied, committed to memory while he ticked over godfathers and the weight of right and wrong.

He remembers when you’d changed it, when your voice informed him of the move, the chance—all excited tone, a pitch closer to a squeak than your voice: no more roommates, just me, myself and I.

He also remembers the ember inside of him pleased that Tom joined the underserving list, slid under Mia and Rich as you informed him you were single again.

Sliding quarters in, finger punching the numbers—he hopes you’re home. A niggling feeling threatens to unwind inside of him as the tone drills into his skull—attempts to drown out the rain rapping against the glass booth he’s standing in.

“Hello?”

“Flor?”

It kisses his ear, your snort. Light. Sweet. “Javier Piña, what do you want?”

You sound like you did in Colombia. Having half-expected the crackle meeting his ear to be down to the distance, rather than your shoddy home phone.

Pressing the receiver to his head, a smile there—desperate to flow out across his lips and exhausted face, he moves it back. “Tal vez te extrañé.”

“Mierda. I don’t believe you.”

Even amidst the noise of passing cars and the relentless drumming of raindrops, he catches the melody of your laughter—a symphony of joy that unravels a part of his soul. It releases it, unlocks it, beckons it to be free—metaphorically makes him release his shoulders, and take a breath. The part of him hidden away, floods back through him—no longer fearful of being taken, clawed or wormed from him as he handed other parts of himself to the job, the task, the goal.

Not you, though. Javi would never surrender you.

A pocket of sunshine he’d kept close to him like your chicken-scratch letters and your tipsy phone calls when he’d caught you coming in after a night with friends.

“Where are you, Piña?”

Wiping his mouth with his thumb, he pauses. Traces his index along the hair growing above his lip, glancing out through the rain-smeared glass, the one cracked in places. Not sure if any of the lights on the other side are hers, but lingering on each just in case.

“In a phone booth on a bridge…”

He hears you swallow, loud, almost difficult.

“…right across from your place.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Smirking, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. “Are you lying to me?”

Smirking, he stares out again. “No.”

Because he couldn’t, not if he tried. Not just because you see through it, but because it wounds him to do so. Picks at him, and makes him bleed in ways that don’t ruin him in scarlet.

“Give me five minutes.”

The call ends before he can get in a bye.

The receiver placed back, bag straps cutting into his palms again as he exits, the heavens lashing against him as he slowly walks. Taking his time. Nervousness bubbling like a broth inside of him with each step, coming up to the top curve of the bridge, trying to look up, spot you—

Then he does.

Running, coat billowing behind—flapping in the wind as it breaks out over your face: that smile. The one that lit fires inside of him, the one first doing so at the time his bedroom at home had its last lick of paint, it now peeling, cracked.

Dropping his bag, Javi isn’t sure whether to brace or not—taking three more steps forward before you collide with him. Arms around him, chest to chest, your wet cheek sliding past his as your soaked clothes marry to his.

It would be odd to say it felt like home hugging you, but it does. It feels right, safe—a piece completing him as he digs his chin into your head.

“You smell the same,” you muffle into his chest.

Javi smiles, knowing the bottle on his dresser is the one from his younger years. Sun-ruined and likely faded, yet managing to linger on his skin enough to cause recollection.

Pushing past lilies, excusing himself through swarms of bodies adorned in black fabric, Javi found you sitting cross-legged between two tall stands of flowers.

Your eyes were puffy—red, swollen—and your dress was as black as his suit; your fingers were balled around a single lily and a scrunched-up tissue, the skirt of your dress skated over your bent knees.

“What d-do you want, Piña?”

But it didn’t land with the tone he had come to know.

Instead, he extended a hand you thankfully took, pulling you up from the ground before he opened his arms—letting you move in, slot yourself between them as they enveloped you close.

Letting his best friend fall apart at the back of the church, your sobs vibrated against his bones and his chin rested on your head as he whispered he had you, over and over again.

A thing you repaid when his mother passed a few years later.

Talking had always been a skill—unless he had to discuss feelings.

It wasn’t that it was easy to lie, or that he found the idea of feeling difficult—if anything, it was as though he felt too much. Guilt. Affection. Righteousness. Protection. Each one a little harder to carry, to wear.

More so around you. The walls had to be tighter, or they’d crumble into ruin, the dust spilling all his secrets before he’d confess whatever wasn’t already written over his face. But, you don’t needle him—instead, you make him a plate from leftovers, tell him about some gossip your mom had informed you of, until you offer him your shower, your sofa and bid him goodnight.

“You’ll be here in the morning?”

“Not going anywhere.”

Lingering in the doorway to your bedroom, fingers playing the piano on the wood. “You’ve said that before.”

He knows he has.

It rises up in him like a storm, whipping around his organs, making his chest tighten as he lies down in comfort but stares up at the unfamiliar. He can hear the rain, how it pitters and patters—how it likely streams down the windows behind your curtains.

He should find it odd that he'd rather fall asleep here, than in his bed back where he grew up. A strange solace in the unknown here, a quiet surrender to the whispers he usually has to hear when the night comes.

But, they're not here.

At some stage, he must sleep, before he wakes to the scent of coffee and soft sunshine. His ears catch the sound of you calling in sick—a cough, a put-on voice, one all removed when you throw a throw cushion at him and ask him what he wants for breakfast.

That’s how he finds his knee kissing yours under the small table as your spoon scoops cereal before letting it drop back into the bowl. Just like when you were kids. Just like when you were all excitable, too in a rush to sit for a moment, stomach likely fluttering with agitation.

“You keep staring.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Flor.”

The thing is, you’re not wrong.

Each time he has a second, he lingers—gazes. Metaphorically pinching himself as he forgoes digging a nail into his skin under the cuff of his shirt, just to make sure he isn’t dreaming. A thing he finds he’s doing now, after a night of laughing until you couldn’t keep your eyes open and a full day of exploring, you walk a little ahead before spinning on your heel to smile at him.

“I have to show you my favourite place—before you go.”

He hates that there’s an end date on this. Bought himself a few days of normal, before returning to something that feels anything but.

Scratching his jaw, brows raised and eyes wide. “You’ve replaced our spot?”

Rolling your eyes, you take his hand—fingers slotting, palm pressing against his. For a moment, a reflex, he thinks of pulling away. Thinking of what else sat as perfectly in his palm as you—a thing that took, but never gave. A thing that he held more than he had ever held a woman.

“My favourite place here.”

He expects a lot of things, maybe flowers, maybe a bar, but he finds himself inside a bookshop. One with floor-to-ceiling shelves, dark wood, the large window letting in light that barely reaches the back. He supposes it’s good they have a chandelier, one that sparkles, shines—like it’s as well maintained as the shelves.

“Books?”

“Books.”

Your finger prodding into him, facing him, body fully twisted. That smile there, the one which slides into one of your cheeks and makes his eyes flick from it to your eyes and then back.

It’s there when you turn on your heel down an aisle, it remaining when he follows—when he hovers close, so easily able to pin you, cage you in between his palms.

“Which do you recommend?”

Shooting him a look, you trail your finger over spines, over the shelf they sit on. “Didn't know you could read?”

“Funny.”

Grinning, you pull on one, handing it to him. His eyes take it in, the cover, the name, the author.

“I think you’ll like the characters,” you explain, eyes lighting up as you lean. “They're flawed but resilient.”

Chewing his cheek, he swallows. Listening, hearing you read the blurb after you lift the book in his hands so you can read it, word for word as he focuses on you. Noticing the way your eyes shine when talking about something you love, the way one of your hands begins to move as you describe the plot, and the characters. Realising, that he could listen to you talk about anything all day.

“You should read it,” you suggest, as he flips through the pages. Having never been much of a reader, time being a factor, his job has been the reason.

“Alright,” he nods, tucking the book under his arm. “I'll read it.”

Your smile brightens even more if that's possible.

“Chucho is gonna be so shocked when I tell him you bought a book.”

Frowning, he follows you, leading him down another aisle. “You talk to my pop?”

Shrugging, like it’s nothing. Like the words that are about to tumble out of your mouth don’t matter like they won’t stitch themselves to him and make him feel like pulling you to his chest.

“I check in—make sure he’s okay. Done it weekly since you left the first time.”

His face falls, descends slowly. He feels it—watches you take it in as yours slowly mirrors him. And, even if he’s been thinking it, it bubbling at the back of his throat, he finds himself unable to stuff it back down—to shove it between other regrets and unsaid words.

“I’ve really missed you.”

Each word lands, your eyes widening as your nose does a little twitch as they do, before you whisper, resting against the edge of a bookcase, “I’ve missed you too.”

Sat on the rock, the sound of a car door slamming disturbed the peace. Not needing to look, knowing that gait, that little kick of the ground as you stopped in front of him.

Hand shielding your eyes from the sun, flower tucked behind your ear.

“Hello, Flor.”

“Piña. Heard you were cursing Laredo.”

Smirking, you sat next to him, nudging him over. The two perched on a rock overlooking part of the city—as his head turned but his eyes stared at you from the corner of them.

“I give it a month and someone else will do something bad enough that people cross the street.”

Swallowing, he exhaled. “Thanks.”

“Did you love her?”

Turning his head, staring at you—eyes flicking from yours to a place on your face he shouldn’t look. “Not enough to marry her.”

“Then you did the right thing.”

A thing he only believed when your hand slid over his, hooking your little finger over his.

“It’s because you’re in love with me, isn’t it?”

Snorting, head shaking, your words washed back over him and he broke into a laugh. “Shut up, Flor.”

Nudging him, taking the flower from your hair and handing it to him. “It’s okay if you do, I know I’m a catch.”

He's embarrassed that it isn't until the second day that Javi finds the chance to really admire your place.

How it’s exactly what he imagined. So very you, all cosy, muted, with spots of colour. Plants and throw cushions, blankets and wicker baskets stuffed with things he suspects you have no recollection of.

What catches his eyes are the photographs, the memories frozen in time around your walls and on shelves. His eyes sweep over them, in a trance still from the scent of your perfume mixing with vanilla from a lit candle.

Each time he sweeps his sight over, he spots new things, remembering brief conversations, smirking to himself until his eyes land on a frame that makes his mouth part and his heart clench.

Him and you; you and him. Sunglasses far too big for your face, staring up at him as he beams at the camera. The backdrop of his ranch, his home, the one he so often left behind like it hadn’t mattered.

Done it weekly since you left the first time.

The words roll around his head now. All metal and round, bouncing against other thoughts, trying to dig his heels into the present and not wonder about what kind of calls you make—whether they’d be about him, whether you’d confess things you’d never admit to him.

Your clanging around is what pulls him to the present. The bangs of cupboards and pans clattering as he stares at it—as he notices how different his build is, how many years have passed. The occasional cursing from you is a rather nice anchor that keeps him in the present.

“Flor?” He waits until he hears you hum. “Order in again, I’ll pay.”

It’s here within the hour.

A favourite, you had told him. A quick apology that you’ll be messier than last night, that you’re dying of hunger. He reminds you he doesn’t care. Not as you slide the triangle slice out, the tip kissing your chin before it’s absorbed by your mouth, sauce lingering on your lips—dust from the crust resting on your nose.

He’s not sure what’s better, the taste of the pizza or the sight of watching you. Having the chance to watch you.

“So I have to ask.”

Grumbling, he pulls at the topping on his slice. “Here we fucking go.”

“Did you like the tie I sent you?”

Half-scowling, swallowing the mouthful of pizza—recalling the box on his desk, atop files and paperwork with a note attached: One down, three to go. Written in that same handwriting he could spot in a lineup—the one he had wished there and then would be etched into him, a mark left, a thing he could brush his thumb over when his heart ached and he felt lost.

“I was disappointed not to see you photographed in it.”

“You knew damn well I wasn’t going to wear a fucking pineapple tie to a press conference.”

Pouting, you smirk. Picking at another slice, staring up at him from the floor, all cross-legged. “Thought you might have for me.”

It’s there, ebbing—words that feel far more intimate than they should—crystallising, burning upon his tongue.

I’d do anything for you.

It’s there, unwritten, pulsating and breathing in the space between you and him, existing, never diminished. Memories where it’s been all but similar rising like lava, singeing him, threatening to burn away the walls he throws up for the sake of friendship.

Because he knows what people think. Saw it hung in his pop’s eyes at his Tia’s wedding when you came as a guest, an uninvited plus one that was welcomed like you were already part of the family. Heard it, in the wind between the grass before he’d left the first time, a farewell outdoor thing, your parents crestfallen, as though they’d assumed—like he imagined a lot of them—the two of you would have figured it out by now.

Watching you stand, hand outstretched for his plate, you take it with a smile. A shout of two options for drinks, an unsurprising one chosen by him—it bubbling in the glass when you hand it to him, settling in beside him.

“Not sure I told you, but you have a nice couch.”

“Most expensive thing in this place—probably better than my own bed,” you smirk, sipping your drink. Head rolling towards him, brows raised, eyes that bit wider. “So, are you okay?”

You’re the only one who could ask and get a reply, he supposes. Those same words were said to him a handful of times, down the phone from Murphy, over the table from Pop, even on aisles of the supermarket when he’d been staring between brands he hadn’t heard of.

“I gave you a day to tell me, and since you won’t, I’m gonna ask. Are you okay, Javier Peña?” you continue, body shifting, thigh pressing against his—heat radiating from between yours to his. “Because you’re methodical. You’re not… get on a plane and fly to a different city just because.”

“You not happy I’m here?”

Grinning, all teeth—it reaching and hanging in your eyes. “Los más felices. But, are you?”

Yes. It’s all he thinks.

Chewing his tongue, his eyes drop to his soda because he’s unsure how to say that. Not as he watches the bubbles float up and burst—the song that had been playing coming to a stop, allowing the rain to play an interval against your windows.

It doesn’t make sense, in some ways: how he’s kept you—been able to keep you close. Somehow not ruined you, twisted this thing between the two of you, made it rot, sullied it with disappointment and selfishness.

“I am now,” he replies.

Good, you breathe. Letting it sit, simmer. Paper over any cracks as your eyes sparkle and remain fixed on him, tracing him as though not completely sure he’s real.

That is, until you grab the remote, excitedly telling him about the night of television they have ahead of them. A blanket, at some stage, finds itself over him, you nestling into his side—like when they were teens before the world became a problem and narcos were all he hunted.

For a while, you catch him up, explain plots and characters. Then, you fall silent, brows crinkled in concentration. His eyes slide to the side to watch, to spot the little things you do as she settles in closer, brings your legs up, and rests almost all of yourself against him.

Between one show and another, he feels the rhythm of your breathing change, your body relaxing further against him. He glances down and finds your eyes closed, features soft and serene in sleep. Realisation dawns on him—you’ve fallen asleep. His heart does a slow tumble in his chest, a wave of warmth spreading through him. All of a sudden aware of the gentle weight of you against his side, the way your hand is loosely holding onto him. He watches, just for a moment, taking in the sight of you, so peaceful and trusting in your sleep. This moment is so intimate, so precious, he wants to freeze it in time.

What else is a guy like you gonna do…

This, he thinks. Looking at you, asleep, peaceful—curled into his side, fingers around his forearm.

Smiling, he takes the remote from your fingers, turning the volume down as he gets more comfortable—pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.

He carried a single red rose down the side of your house—nudging open the window the rest of the way, climbing in like he had done years ago.

He didn’t need eyes, didn’t fancy having to explain to his parents how he could do that to that nice girl and her family. Javi had faced enough judgement, enough stares.

The only eyes he wanted were staring at him, remaining so as he stepped close and handed you the flower with the thorns picked free. “Come with me.”

Sighing, eyes averting, you swallowed loudly in the thick quietness. “You don’t want that. Your best friend following you.”

Eyes flicking up to meet his, you took another deep breath. Fingers flexed at your side, weight shifting from one foot to the other before you exhaled—louder than before.

“I don’t want to follow you, best friend.”

Then don’t be just that, he thought, thumb swiping over the tips of his fingers as he hovered, waited. Then he took a step closer, and another. The gap closed, becoming shorter and shorter—

“What are you doing, Piña?”

“Kissing you.”

Lips pursing, trying not to smirk, you took the rose and put it on your dresser. “Don’t feel your lips on mine, Javier.”

And then he kissed you, his fingers clutching at your jaw—body pressed against yours, tasting your whine, your moan.

He felt your fingers clutch at his shirt as he told you to be quiet.

Laid you on your bed of flowers, knees digging into stitched roses and sunflowers, as you arched off the bed when his fingers slid between your thighs—like he wished he’d done a handful of times before now.

He’s not sure of the time when he wakes, but it’s dark.

A contentedness in his bones that doesn’t fade as he begins to blink, as he takes in his surroundings and remembers where he is. Feeling you, warm, pressed as close against him as humanly possible. Able to see the outline of you, before his eyes manage to paint the rest, how his knee has slotted between your legs—bodies a mess of limbs that takes him back to years ago.

Javi notices how the television is switched off as you try to move, to wiggle and escape. His shirt discarded, the cool air misting over him, pebbling his skin as he slides his arm around you, pinning you tighter to him.

Brain all addled with dreams and sleep, as his awakening state tries to remind him what he’s doing.

What door he’s trying to open all over again.

“Javi…”

Not Piña, Peña or Javier. Javi, all soft and whispery, like honey dripping into his ear as he turns his head to find your stare in the dark. Somehow finding it shimmering, fixed, more than awake.

Then you whisper his name again, and it’s heavenly, a piece of it anyway. A sound he realises he’s missed more than he cares to find words to describe as he hears you push out a breath—fingers finding his arm, stroking, sliding their warmth up and down the muscle of his arm as he swallows.

It’s slow, hand cupping your cheek as he shifts his body, and finds yours moves with him. The beginning of a partner dance, one it feels you’ve both practised in small spaces but never actually have as he slides his lips over yours. Moulds them to yours. Tasting faint mint on your tongue when you deepen it—when you pay attention, listen, taking each cue you give him from the movement of your mouth to the way your hands grasp at him to come closer.

A whimper tries to break through, to escape through messy kisses and tangled bodies, but it vibrates through him. Makes him shudder with how much he wants you, moving your knee, hooking it over his hip as he slots his waist between your thighs and you gasp at the feel of him flush against you.

Practically whine.

Nose brushing your cheek, palm flat, fingers spreading out over your hip as he feels you roll your body into him, he smiles—breathy, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “Forgot how soft you are.”

You hum, head-turning, mouth latching itself back to his.

“Forgot how good of a kisser you are.”

Snorting, he lightly bites your lower lip. “Best remind you then.”

“Best do,” you whisper, pulling him by his hair back to your mouth.

You write a poem against his lips, signing it with your tongue against his as his fingers snake under the band of your sleep shorts, tasting your moan, your hiss and whimper when he touches you like he’s wanted to since he landed back in the States.

When two fingers slide slowly inside of you, curling, the sound of his name is like a fucking sin he wants to be draped in, wrapped in, even dressed in. Him seeking, searching, finding that spot that has your legs opening for him, nails scraping against his scalp.

“More, Javi. Please—”

“You’re so tight, Flor,” he croons, burying the words in your neck, the tip of his tongue swiping over your collarbone as you grab a handful of his hair. “Feel so good around my fingers.”

Your hips writhe, roll them against his hand, gasping. Making a mess, dripping, practically gushing over his hand, as he fights pulling his hand free and getting a taste.

“Be better—dios mio—around your cock—”

Smirking, teeth nipping at your neck, “I remember.”

Head lifting, thankful the night sky is clear, that the moon is draping you in a slither of milky light so he’s able to see your eyes flutter shut. Able to witness what his fingers do to you, the effects of their teasing and the languid movements as he finds that angle, the one which makes you grind against his palm, and has your chest heaving.

He moans your name against your tongue, drinking down a blend of pleases falling from your swollen lips as he plunges deeper, walls squeezing him.

There he thinks, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder, as you dig your nails further into his scalp, tensing, bearing down on him to the point he hopes you’ll leave a mark, leave a cut, a signature of this moment he can run his fingers over.

“Kiss me,” you gasp, all wrapped in desperation as you pull at his shoulder.

His mouth only just pressing to yours when your cry buries against his tongue, when you flutter and arch as he continues to work you through it. His name breaks through messy kisses, it escaping effortlessly like it doesn’t wish to be buried anymore.

You don’t let him pull away, hooking one leg around him. Watching, not able to take your eyes from him as he retracts his hand—as he licks your pleasure from his fingers and you stare with a twinkle in your eye.

“You best fuck me now.”

Smirking, a low laugh escaping. “Yeah? Want me that bad, Flor?”

Lifting onto your elbows, he waits for a taunt, a tease—something that’ll bring him down a peg or two. What he finds, instead, is your fingers slowly crawling up his bare chest, around his neck, your chin tilted up.

“I need you, Javi. Need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?”

“And then I wanna get on top,” you whisper, dragging each syllable out, “and fuck you until the sun comes up.”

“Murphy is a nice guy.”

Eyes narrowing, he shot you a glare—watching as you shimmied your jacket from your shoulders. Bare arms, bare legs—except for the thin tank and shorts adorning your body—that had him thinking un-best friend things.

“You jealous, Piña?”

“Of a married guy? Fuck no.”

Grinning, you moved closer—boxing him in. Staring into his eyes, in a way that made him feel like he was being seen, read, and admired all at once. “Is that because you left a bite mark on my hip?”

Tracing his fingers along your neck, he felt himself smile. That flutter in his chest again, the one which had appeared one day when the two of you were teens and hadn’t gone away since.

“Ask me to stay,” you whispered, hands on either side of him—all boxed in. “Ask me, Javi.”

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he raised a hand, knuckles brushing over your cheek. Wanting nothing more. A week gone too quickly. Already feeling the pressure slip back over his muscles, seeping into his bones. But he knew. He pictured it, the things he had nightmares over—even when you were far away, never mind when you were asleep in the room next to his.

“Too dangerous.”

“That it? I can learn—”

“No.”

“No?”

He stared. Thought of the things he had done. The people he had already let down. The things he had let happen to people who deserved far better. It layering, and layering, and layering and—

Nodding, disappointment spread, before it was washed over in acceptance. “What’re we eating?”

When he wakes, he expects to find you dressed in corporate and apologising in a voice that’s accompanied by a pout at the foot of your bed. The place the two of you found yourself on at 4 am.

Instead, you fake another performance. Earn an Oscar over the phone before switching to the excitable one you present to him when you sit at the foot of the bed.

There’s something there. It hangs in your eyes. A secret, a thing shifted and dislodged now your mask has slipped from the few hours of sleep and the ruining of your sheets.

But he doesn’t ask, because if he does, he fears he’d tell you things in return. Alter the way you see him. Change it, taint it. Practically ruin the man you think he went to be and the one he's returned as.

It'll hurt him if you look at him with disgust. You’ve burnt him after all, left him winded, air knocked from his lungs each time he’s laughed. All but imprinted into his mind, a thing never filed but rather pinned up and forever there, like artwork on a fridge.

“Wanna get a coffee?”

Hands pulling on a pair of jeans, buttoning them as he sees the peaks of your nipples through your white tee. And he knows your face is bare and you're dressed in clothes you just pulled out without thought—yet, you are, as always, the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

A thing he thinks when he showers.

When he smiles as he scrubs the shampoo into his hair, feels the soreness at parts from where your nails had dug in. He doesn't stop beaming when he smears his palm across the glass, takes in his appearance as you open the door, a towel hung low on his hips, eyes dropping down.

“Now who's staring, hermosa.”

“Don’t be a work of art to be admired then.”

He dresses in record time, your hand swinging beside his, so within reach, so easy to grab. But he doesn’t.

None of last night mentioned, even if he knows he’s left bruises on your inner thighs from keeping them apart; even if you've left scratch marks on his shoulders from when you sunk down on him, head thrown back, jaw elongated as he rolled your nipples between his fingers.

Javi doesn't even mention it when he hears you gasp at the taste of your coffee, a noise similar to when he'd licked a stripe up your pussy, when he tasted both you and him.

It was just like in Colombia.

A thing buried, hidden underneath other topics the two of you don’t discuss. Dead parents and a town you both ran from. A thing he almost wants to change, correct, but then you stop outside a flower shop.

The sign battered, peeling. Hidden between two nicer shops, yet the scent made his nose twitch.

“You should buy me flowers.”

“Should I?”

Smirking, teeth biting your lip. “Por lo de anoche.”

Head shaking, he finds himself following anyway. Unable to stop his eyes from falling to the back pocket you shove your phone in, hand reaching, palm pressing to the globe of your ass as he hears the muffled sound of a giggle—

“Piña.”

“Flor,” he whispers, practically breathes it against your neck.

The bubble expands, knowing at some point it’ll pop. Too happy, he thinks. Too settled for a man who has a solo flight back. It’s why he drops his hand, lets you move further in, watching as you scan over already-made bouquets for one he knows you won’t find.

Because they don’t know you. Not like him. There’s not years between you and this shop—this place.

His fingers lightly roll over a stem, staring at the flower, before he has pulled it free from the bucket, and then another, and then another. Not at all a florist—or someone artistic enough to make a bunch—but a person who at least knows you. Knows that in each of the pre-made bundles there’s a flower you dislike, one that’ll remind you of something, someone.

“Here.”

You blink, eyes widening as they move from the bunch in his hand to his face. “Javi…”

“There your—”

“Favourites,” you finish, eye narrowing, lips still parted. “You remembered all my favourites?”

Shrugging, aware of how close he is to real—to something that could shatter, break. A thing he’ll do, just give it time. Feeling it wrap its tendrils around his chest, around his heart, squeezing and squeezing until your hand slips in his. Palm to palm, fingers finding their way between his slowly, cautiously, your eyes not leaving his face as you do.

“Didn’t know my pussy was good enough for flowers, Piña,” you comment, voice low, a smirk there.

“You deserve more than flowers.”

“I’m that good?”

Shaking his head, hand still in yours, he presses a kiss to your forehead, swallowing. “Siempre has sido.”

“Hello?”

He heard the hiccup, the slur of his name as he smirked against the phone—finger and thumb massaging his forehead as he heard you hiccup again. “Flor?”

“Piña, did you know that I miss you?”

Adjusting the tie around his neck, staring down at the pineapples—the box open, atop a bunch of files, in the office he should have been thankful for. “You sound like you’ve had a good night.”

You howled, the laugh all high-pitched. “Maybe I have—maybe I haven’t. What I do know is that I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“No. I love you.”

Smirking, thumb tracing an outline of one of the pineapples. “You’re drunk.”

“Still love you.”

Swallowing, he let out a heavy exhale.

“You doing okay, mi Piña?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer, how to respond. Head tilting back in his office chair, the ice melted in his whiskey and the hour so late he wondered why you were still up as you extended his nickname out into as many syllables as you could.

“I am now—okay, I mean.”

It needs to be left alone.

He knows it. Reminds himself of it when it rears its head at every second he doesn't. Because, it doesn't need to be needled, or picked at until it bled.

But, Javi picks at it all the same when you avoid his question again.

His hand slides over his face, index finger tracing a line down his nose as he waits until your laugh fades. Your fork twists the spaghetti round and round, and when it falls, it simply lands on the table between the two of you—the air tinged with the scent of dinner and the flowers from the shop.

“When were you going to tell me you hate your job?”

Your smile shrinks, like the sunlight being muted by the night. Spine straightening, chin lifting. The walls coming down both literally and figuratively, seeing you prepare for war when he’s army-less and unafraid.

“Si significo algo para ti, no lo hagas.”

He snorts, resting on his arm, letting the sheets fall to his waist. Because of course, he cares, and of course, he wants to do this. Balling up the hand beside his hip, seeing the murkiness in your eyes, the joy snuffed out and hidden, as though the hatchets were coming down to protect against his storm.

Javi says your name, softly, honeyed—delicately drip-feeding the air each letter until it’s out there existing.

One by one, it happens. Your eyes avert, chin dipping down; your tongue drags across the front of your teeth and then your arms fold. “I hate my job. Happy? I wanted it so bad—and now I have it, I hate it. I hate going in, I hate doing it. I can’t tell anyone that because it’s all I wanted.”

“It’s okay.”

Snorting, fake smile sketching across your face as your eyes harden to the point they’re brittle. “It isn’t. I left. I turned my back and got as far out of there as I could, and now I’m stuck.”

It breaks him a little.

Seeing it then, the many shards inside of you that you’re trying to keep whole. The pieces that are so worn and tired from doing their best to fit, but struggling to do so.

It’s why he protests that you’re not. He tries to rationalise and says the same words he knows you’d say to him if he called—if he had told you the truth about everything when he was over there. He tries to add kindness to his words as you continue to stare at him like you wish your bed would swallow him whole.

“—You’re saying this like I didn’t say the same thing to you, and you went and did another five years.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” you spit, standing now, finger pointing and nose flared. “Because your job means more?—”

“No, because I’m a fucking idiot, Flor. You’re not.”

You mutter under your breath, curse him—a blend of poisonous Spanglish that has the heel of his palm pressing against his forehead.

Because it’s like last time.

The words surge up inside of him—except you’re both older now, both carrying more pain and hurt from a world that continues to pile on when bones are already struggling. Walls threw up, keeping him out in all the same ways—except now his mess is also between your thighs, and you aren’t half as good at hiding how his words hurt you.

“Come home with me.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

Folding your arms, your head shaking. “I can stick it out—work my way up, it’ll get better—”

“You know it won’t. Know how well that went for me.”

Then you scoff. It blended with razors and sharpened to injure. “No, I don’t. Because you don’t talk about what happened.”

“You read about it.”

“But that’s not your story, Javi. That’s theirs.”

For a moment, he sees it. How hollow you look, how weak, sad and broken. So he repeats it, the request, the offer. Come home with me. But the door shuts, locks, a bolt thrown over.

And everything, all of it, splinters; it doing so before your mouth even opens and he sees what his request has done.

“I’m not coming home just because you’ve decided you want to play happy fucking families, Peña. The world doesn’t stop turning just because you’ve decided to run away, and it doesn’t begin turning again because you’ve come home and decided what you want.”

“That isn’t—”

“You left. You left me.”

“—Flor—”

“—and I asked you to let me stay—when I knew you were hurting. I asked and you said no—”

He whispers your name, broken—like it shatters the moment it greets the air.

“—I wasn’t good enough then. So why am I now?”

Shaking his head, legs flung from under your sheets, he stands—aware he’s half-naked, aware this isn’t the time as you step back.

You shake your head, tears dangling, resistant to fall. “I bet you’re not even staying.”

“I am—”

Head tilting, a crystal tear falling down your cheek, you scoff. Loud. Brutal. “Have you even unpacked? Or did you just get on a plane here?”

Swallowing, Javi rolls his jaw. Fingers flexing at his side, staring, urging himself to find words as his tongue thickens in his mouth. Because he’s staying, he’s staying, he’s staying—

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Flor—”

“Save it.”

The door of your bedroom slamming behind you is the final sound that echoes out between you both.

It was different.

Hearing you cry down the phone—than when the two of you were younger.

When your first love broke your heart and he lay beside you on sheets covered in stitched flowers. Your head turned to him, the bedroom door open, as you teased your lip between your teeth. The tears had dried, but the rest had still been there, written in markers across your face as you sighed, staring, waiting for him to answer. “What do you want, Piña?” you’d asked, and he’d swallowed that he wanted to punch them.

Now, though, there were miles between the two of you. Distance far more than there had ever been—cities, a whole country.

“I’ll be home soon—can visit you.”

He heard you laugh, it hanging, echoing. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it.”

“You mean a lot of things, Javi.”

“Flor—”

“I wish you'd never kissed me.”

It's a whisper, the way he said your name. It cracked, snapping as it left his tongue.

“I should go shower, early morning and all that.”

He asked you to stay and he heard you sigh.

“What do you want, Piña?”

Swallowing, Javi tapped his fist on the desk—tiredness having crept over him, the last ditch at doing right in Colombia suspended over him. Tell me I’m doing good, that it's worth losing you, Flor. “Have a good day, Flor.”

It’s weeks.

Eight weeks and four days to be exact.

At some point, it becomes less of a want to get in touch and more of a need not to. Your number is always there on his fingers, but his digits never dialling it when his Pop nips out to go to the store, and he’s left alone with his thoughts and memories in a house stuffed full of them.

Javi doesn’t expect anything else.

Having woke that next morning to find a note attached to the book he had bought: Had to go to work. Have a safe flight. Speak soon—a thing he both hoped and prayed for, even as he nursed a drink on the short flight and chain-smoked at the airport before he did the drive home.

Home.

A thing it felt even less of when he arrived this final time. Pulling his truck into its place, dust swirled and kicked up around him. Staring at the house that hasn’t changed much, just the paint thinning, the sun-dyeing it.

Each day that ticks by, he thinks of you. Each week that’s collected, he fights with himself when he’s sat alone at the dining table about flying back out and apologising.

Because he knows what he did.

Did the same thing back then—assumed and foolishly acted as though your wants never mattered. But they do matter. A thing he rehearses in his head when he’s feeding the animals; a thing he runs over when he’s repairing a door here or a fence there.

One week adds up, then another, and another.

If his Pop thinks things, he doesn’t share them. Just shakes his head occasionally, not asking what is wrong, likely knowing. Suspecting he wears it like the rest of his shame, brightly coloured and decorated in bright lights.

A fool’s outfit, he thinks. A thing he is, a thing he knows. It carved into him at this point. Scratched into the skin and muscle, yet everyone else sees the word hero.

It’s eight weeks and four days when the door of the party opens, the sun streaming in—illuminating the back of a person in a dress adorned with flowers. It takes a second, the condensation on his beer dripping down his wrist as he stares, trying to place the shape and the style of the hair. Not wanting to imagine, not wanting to jump ahead of himself until he hears your mom say your name, all excitable—practically a shriek.

He’s not prepared.

Yet, it’s out of habit he moves.

Like the two of you are magnets, that realised they were supposed to be a pair. The music doesn’t quiet, and the room doesn’t hold its breath, but Javi does—and he suspects you do too.

Just as time comes to a slow stop—the hand in his watch takes an age to flick to the next second as his heart hammers into his ribs. Staring, fingers itching to reach out and ensure you’re not something he’s fabricated, not a mirage from wanting so badly and convincing himself he’d never have it.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Piña.”

It weighs heavy then—clots on his tongue. Almost shapes itself into bile and rests horridly against his tongue as he follows you around, hand close to reaching out to place on your lower back, but stops when he remembers where he is.

Home.

A thing it all of a sudden feels like when you turn your head, lift your chin and stare at him—eyes full of forgiveness, and understanding. “We should talk, right?”

Right, he thinks. Trying to stop the twist in his chest from tightening, trying to stop the dread from filling him and drowning from within. Conversations never go well. A thing he thinks over, and over as his hand strokes over his face, following, one foot after the other, until the warm sun kisses his skin and he finds himself leaning against the side of the building.

“I didn’t come for you.”

He says nothing, not sure if there are any to say.

“I quit. Moved back a week and a bit ago—” your hand comes up to halt him, half-pleading with a tilt and a raise of your eyes. “—and I needed to find things for me, first.”

Folding his arms, he stretches his legs, lets himself elongate, and tries to fill his lungs with air.

“Because I’d have resented you for being right.” Your chin dips, eyes following. “A thing I would do, because you, Javier Peña, know me. And sometimes I really hate that.”

Exhaling, he finds you do the same. Head tilting, lips rolling as you take him in, trace him with your eyes as though you can't quite believe he's real.

“Did you know that every person I’ve been with, it gets to a point where I think ‘Fuck, Javi wouldn’t do this to me’?” Meeting his gaze, you exhale. “And then, no matter how much I felt for them, it goes.”

“Flor…”

Swallowing, you offer the smallest smile. “It’s never gone for you, though. Not when you left. Not when you came back, and left again. Not eight weeks ago when I should have asked you to stay.”

Tongue sticking, flat against the roof his mouth, he grabs your hand—holds it. Runs his thumb over the knuckles as you avert your eyes.

“I live in Laredo now, further north. Did you know I’m so good at what I do, people seek me out?” you say, beaming, letting him pull you closer. “Think they’d have cloned me you if I’d asked for it.”

Dragging his knuckles down your cheek, he’s unable to stop the way it flares up in him—that joy, that ember of happiness—when you smile.

“Because I don’t think I find the idea of being yours that terrible—”

“That so?”

Shaking your head, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt, he watches your smile falter—just for a moment. “Don’t do this, if you’re going to up and leave again, Javi. Because I’d have died happily not telling you what I feel for you.”

“Not doing it again to you.”

“Okay. Then,” you sigh, sliding your arms around his neck, his hands finding a home on your waist. “Well, I guess I should tell you that I really like your moustache.”

“Just really like?” he teases, swaying you as you purse your lips together.

“Fine. I love it.”

Smiling, walking you back until your back meets the wooden railings. “I love that you love it.”

Rolling your eyes, forehead meeting his chest, he feels the laugh roll through you. Rumbling.

“You owe me flowers.”

Snorting, he rests his chin on your head. “I’ll buy you a field, Flor.”

“That’s a good start.”

Thought so, he thinks. Wrapping his arms around you, keeping your head against him, rocking you, like he's wished to do so many times before now.

Home now feeling right.

#javier pena x reader #javi peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javi peña smut #narcos x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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k8martins · 3 days

Text

. ⋆ ๑ wrapped around your finger

summary: reader is a new medical intern for the lvaces and tension runs high every time they interact, finally breaking after a tough game

request: no / yes

warnings: 18+ smut, rpf

a/n: this is my first kate fic so go easy on me lmfao and i got lowkey carried away it’s around 2k words so ummmm ya purr i guess

back in april, you landed a medical internship for the las vegas aces, just in time for the excitement of draft season. not only did your job enable you to interact daily with some of the most talented athletes in basketball, but perfectly coexisted with your interests in pursuing medicine. so far, your standard role was to examine and prepare players before and after games, including team practices. any injuries or concerns were also taken care of by you. however, being shy was an issue you still had to overcome. treating players with their kinesiology tape or bringing them necessities was always attempted to be a quick motion; hurriedly fixing them up and moving on to the next task.

but some players proved to make that difficult for you. coming into work on an average day, you found yourself kneeling at the foot of the newly drafted guard— kate martin. when she had got unexpectedly chosen by the aces, you sat watching from home, marveled by her tall stature and pin straight blonde hair. she was even more alluring in person, especially from the view of applying tape to her ankles and legs every other day.

“you know the drill, just keep your foot upright and i’ll get your ankle,” you murmured, looking up at kate as she was sat in front of you. her big blue eyes met yours, and she smirked without comment. quickly averting your gaze, you pressed your lips together in an attempt to keep composure.

one thing you had learned since she joined the team was that she occasionally enjoyed poking fun at your timid mannerisms.

“loosen up a little, girl,” kate playfully punched your shoulder, “i don’t bite”.

the gesture made you laugh and mumble some unnecessary apology, but you still felt her gaze even after you looked back down. trying to focus on the task at hand was nearly impossible in this position, being on your knees before her. as you pulled more tape, your mind raced of all the things you could do to each other. if one day you could set the professionalism aside and just push her legs apart—

“you’re my favorite medical person, you know that? you always get me right,” kate continued, knowing exactly what she was doing.

you snapped out of your thoughts and felt your face grow hot, looking back up at her. “thank you,” you said, barely getting it out, “a-and you’re all set now by the way.” kate thanked you with a slight chuckle, and was up and ready for practice.

——————————————————————————

it was interactions like these that kept you up at night. all the eye contact, suggestive gestures, and tension was enough to drive you crazy. you endlessly wondered if kate had meant to fuel the tension, or if it was all just in your head. regardless, these moments made you excited to come into work every day, anticipating the next exchange you two would have.

the entire next month of your internship consisted of increasingly tense encounters with kate, with each one wondering when she would just make a move. she had started to admiringly stroke your hair while you were knelt in front of her, knowing how much it would turn you on. every once in a while she would give your hair a light tug to make you look up for no good reason other than to get a good look at you. once you understood she was taking things a smidge further, you had no problem getting a little extra touchy when handling her legs, or simply handing her things like a towel or water bottle. you ran your hands up her legs in an “innocent” manner, both of you knowing damn well you were ready to find a secluded space together.

your favorite moments to see her were before and after big games. the way her pregame excitedness would be contagious, and the way after the game she would still have energy despite being tired. this day, kate was getting ready to play in a game with high expectations for the aces. you gathered all the things she might need, and headed into the locker room, where most of her teammates were already gone. you spotted her standing right in front of her designated space, and walked towards her. kate smiled knowingly when she saw you, and didn’t move out of the way as you bent past her to set down the water and towel in her cubby. your hips grazed each other when suddenly you felt her arms snake around your lower back. you slowly got back upright, and kate kept her arms around you, moving her hands to each side of your waist.

her big hands planted on your waist took your breath away as there was no escaping her now. face to face, kate kept her gaze on you.

“i was wondering when you’d come by,” she taunted.

you swallowed thickly, your mouth hung open but the words would not come out. even after a month, she still intimidated you with her beauty.

“i’m just joking, relax,” kate said, laughing lightly.

“i know. i just had to go find the best materials for you,” you joked back, trying to keep your cool and ignore the growing heat between your legs.

kate smiled back at you, sensing how needy you were becoming. “same time back here after the game?” she questioned, her voice low.

“of course. good luck tonight, kate,” you said back.

——————————————————————————

it was a tough loss for the aces. the final score came close, but ultimately the team returned to the locker room in low spirits. the loss was hard on you too, seeing kate frustrated out on the court, but you still had to do your job. giving everyone postgame materials and accessing injuries, you noticed to have treated everyone except kate. you craned your neck around the locker room, looking for the long blonde ponytail, but she was nowhere to be seen. eventually, the team had left for the night. you were left cleaning up after them, still wondering where your favorite player was.

you had your back turned from the entrance and putting away your supplies when you heard footsteps coming towards the room. your heart immediately began to race and you turned around to see kate standing a few yards in front of you, with an exhausted but eager expression on her face.

her eyes pierced through you, and your mind raced trying to think of something to say, but it was a blur as she quickly walked to you and took your face in her hands, kissing you deeply. your body tensed up at the surprise, but quickly melted down as you remembered how long you had been waiting for this moment.

it was a hungry kiss, with her hands moving down to your waist and pulling you closer. kate completely took control of you and backed you against the wall. in the heat of the moment, you decided it was your turn to tease her.

“where.....the hell.......were you.....” you said breathlessly between kisses. kate instantly pulled away from you and scoffed.

“just talking with the coaches, baby.”

her breathless tone made you weak in the knees and she immediately went back to making out with you. her hands found their way under your shirt and began exploring all over your waist. she passionately bit at your bottom lip as she moved her cold hands up to your tits, which she desperately squeezed at. the cold touch being in just the right place earned a little whimper from your lips. kate giggled against the kiss, finding amusement in getting you so needy so fast.

you felt slightly embarrassed at how easy you were being, and decided to switch it up on kate. maintaining the kiss, you made your way back to her bench, and pushed her down. you knelt down in front of her just as you did when you took care of her, but now your dirty thoughts were becoming a reality. kate did not protest being sat down and instead threw her head back, resting it right below her name plate— “K. Martin”.

your view from the kneel made your head spin tonight, with her face still sweaty and her messy hair slightly sticking to her face. she was still out of breath and tiredly looked down at you as you parted her legs. you kept the eye contact as you gestured for her to lift her hips in order to slide down her shorts. once off, you threw them elsewhere in the room, and positioned yourself further inbetween her legs. you looked up at her one more time and saw her chest rising and falling with every movement, her eyebrows furrowed in desperation.

“here? right now? are you sure, kate?” you questioned, half taunting half being serious. you placed your hand on her inner thigh and began slowly circling her clit. she bucked her hips up at the sudden touch.

“please...please...” kate whispered, and you felt your stomach flip. all of the nights she teased you and seemed so tough were now out the window as she begged you to continue.

looking around the room, there was no sign of life besides you and kate. you turned back to her and urged her to stay quiet before going down on her. your tongue skillfully lapped around her clit and she let out a strangled cry.

“shhhhh kate you’re doing so good,” you whispered against her wetness.

you brought your fingers up to her entrance and began circling around it before slowly inserting two fingers. you kept the sucking at a steady pace but began to finger her quickly. looking up at kate, her eyes were screwed shut and stomach tense. she was biting down hard on her lip, struggling to stay quiet. her constant little moans single-handedly almost made you finish, but you focused on her.

you continued eating her out as if she was going to disappear from under you, and picked up the pace. your left hand remained on her thigh and you felt her grab hold of it. she breathed hard as her other hand landed in your hair, lightly pushing your head and grasping your hair. you smiled thinking back to the times when she would have her hands in your hair while innocently getting taped up; oh how fast things can change.

“i-i’m gonna....” kate cried out, squirming beneath you and clearly reaching her limit.

the fast pace combined with tongue and fingers finally brought her to her release. kate moaned your name breathlessly over and over as she came on your fingers. eventually you stopped and she was able to ride out the high.

as soon as kate caught her breath she got you up off the ground and put you in her spot. she got on her knees and tugged at your pants.

“kate don’t you think we should stop... someone probably heard us-“

she didn’t even let you finish your sentence before she inserted her long fingers into you. kate did not hold back as she kept an unrelenting pace and began to kiss you. you moaned and panted into the kiss, struggling to kiss back.

you gave up on trying to kiss back and threw your head back, raspy moans escaping from your puffed lips. her fingers felt so good inside of you, hitting the spot with each thrust. she didn’t even need to do anything except finger you, and you were already close. you tried to moan her name but could only get out the “k” sound.

“just take it,” she demanded, getting frustrated you couldn’t kiss back.

kate began kissing down your neck and leaving very apparent hickeys all over. all you could do was moan as she took care of you, your eyes tearing up from the euphoric feeling. you tugged on her hair as you felt yourself on the edge of release. the way your hips squirmed and tears fell down your face told kate that you were ready and nodded at you to come.

her pace slowed as you relaxed from the climax and she began gently kissing your face. she wiped your tears with her other hand and ran her fingers through your messy hair.

“i got you wrapped around my finger, my favorite intern girl,” kate laughed.

“you’re so corny.”

“you.”

#kate martin #kate martin fanfic #kate martin x reader #kate martin smut

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the-froschamethyst4 · 2 days

Text

Ex’s and Oh’s

𖤐Paring: Ex Husband! Ghost x Ex Wife! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐AN: Sorry, it has taken me so long to post this, I've been busy and struggling with writers block for a while, it was hard to think of a way to start this story and also trying to not make it boring as well. Anyways, I hope you all will enjoy the fic version of headcanon

𖤐Based On: ex-husband-simon

𖤐Warnings: fluff, smut, language, ex's to lovers, children, kissing/making out, more use of Simon, abusive relationship,

𖤐Summary: Divorce is hard, and Simon didn't know it at all, he loved his ex-wife and did everything he could to be there for his kids

————

Simon waits in the driveway for his kids, Silas the oldest child and Luna his youngest. He remembers this house his first house he's ever bought with his now ex-wife Y/n.

Y/n had given Simon divorce papers because she was always worried about Simon when he was away on deployment. When she was pregnant with Luna, she couldn't handle the stress.

He watches the front door open and his kids come rushing out, Luna hugging Simon's legs and Silas hiked his bags into the back seat of his fathers truck.

"Come on, kids," Simon says, he turns and sees Y/n in the doorway being hold by her new boyfriend, Duncan. Simon couldn't stand him.

Duncan just leeched off of Y/n. Her money, home, food, he didn't pay bills, he was basically a roommate. Y/n tried to get Duncan many jobs but he never lasted then 4 days.

That was all information from Silas and Luna.

Simon looks at his kids helping Luna into her car seat.

"Daddy, can we go to the Zoo?" Luna asked.

"Maybe next weekend," Simon tells her.

"But I wanna go today."

"Not today baby."

"Why?"

"Because...it's close for cleaning."

"The Zoo isn't closed," Silas jumps in.

"Yes it is," Simon says, looking at his son to be quite. At the moment Simon didn't have anything plan with his kids, he just wanted to relax with his children and help them with homework if they needed it.

"Daddy?" Luna looks up at him.

"Not today," he says again. He shuts the door.

"I'm sorry for the last minute pick up," Y/n walks to her ex-husband.

"It's okay.

Y/n had a meeting and she didn't trust...Duncan. Sure they're dating and all, but she trusts Simon a lot more than Duncan.

"I can't believe you asked him to do it...I'm surprised he even agreed," Duncan says, watching Simon pull out of the driveway. Duncan acts like Simon is a dead-beat father when he's not, Simon works and barely even gets to see his kids.

And Duncan doesn't even help out with the kids, the week ago, Silas needed to be picked up from football (Soccer) and Duncan "forgot" and Luna was home but locked out of the house and didn't know if anyone was home or not.

"What the hell do you mean? Simon is a good father, this isn't his first time picking up his children," Y/n says.

"But like...I'm surprised really," he chuckles.

"Duncan, he's not a dead-beat father," Y/n says.

"Sure, he is, sees his kids 40 days out of the year."

"He...works Duncan, unlike you," she says. "I need to get going."

"Can't believe you married that guy too, seems like an asshole."

"He never was!" Y/n stood up for her ex-husband but why? She's the one who gave him the divorce papers, why is she standing up for him? Because she still loves him.

Duncan was a distraction for Y/n, she still loved Simon, but couldn't bring herself to tell him that, she thought if she had a boyfriend maybe her mind will love him instead but it wasn't, she still loved Simon, and she'll defend him even if he doesn't want her to, she'll still do it for him.

Duncan also doesn't know he's a 'distraction' he thought Y/n did like him.

----------

Simon looks at his son and daughter in the rearview mirror they were eating their chicken nuggets or small cheese burger. They were hungry since Simon had picked them up around lunch time.

"How's everything?" Simon asked them.

"Good." Luna says.

"Amazing," Silas says.

"Good," Simon says as he starts to drive to his apartment complex.

Simon parked in his usual parking spot and he helps his kids out of the back seats of his truck. They head to the elevators and hit the 5th floor button going up.

Luna played with the toy she just got and Silas played with his. Once the door opened Luna headed to the apartment door and Silas walked with Simon holding his bag as Simon carried his daughters bag.

Simon opens the door and his kids rushed in going to their rooms grabbing more toys and dragging them to the living room that Simon cleaned just for them to mess it up again.

Simon smiles at his kids and jumps in to play with them, he jumps from playing Monster Trucks and Wrestling to Princesses and Pet Shops.

He likes to play with his kids, enjoying how they play and missed all times him and Silas use to play with each other, before Luna was born, he didn't play with her as much because of the divorce.

He lays on his back and Luna sits on his stomach, she pats his toned chest and was using his chest as a mountain for her Barbies to play mountain climber, he knew he had a big chest but he didn't think it was that big.

"Daddy, stop breathing it's messing with my Barbies."

"Baby, I can't just stop breathing," he chuckles which now causes his chest to bounce.

"Daddy," she groans.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop laughing, but I can't stop breathing," he smiles.

"Dad," he looks at his son, but he was looking at him upside down.

"Yes, buddy?"

"I don't like mama's new boyfriend," Silas says.

"You don't?"

"Yeah," Luna now jumps in. "He yells at us sometimes, even for nothing."

"Yelling at you? Are you sure it's just because you two might have...I don't know actually done something wrong?"

"Daddy, are you taking his side?"

"No, no, but-"

"No reason, dad," Silas says.

Simon sits up now holding his daughter so she doesn't fall and she slides down on his lap.

"I understand," he says, letting go of his daughter as she goes back to her Barbie's dreamhouse.

----------

9:00PM

His children had gone to bed now, and Simon decided to do something, something he's never done because it was never his business.

Duncan Matthews Age: 31 Height: 5'11 Job: Unemployed Criminal Background: DUI, 1st degree Stalking, Demotic Violence

"Goddammit Y/n...you're smarter than this," Simon groans.

Simon copies the link and pulls up his email, he was going to send it to Y/n. If she was unaware, which she's not, she wouldn't keep this guy around.

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

Y/n was working late, she needed to get some files done and then she sees a notification pop up, it was from an anonymous email account.

She clicks it and then reading upon the email.

You're smarter than this with the screenshot of Duncan's police report attached to it.

She felt like she knew it was from. But she goes ahead and reads it anyways and then reading his charges.

*Ping*

Did you also know he yells at the children for no reason?

*Simon...what are you doing?* She thinks to herself.

Y/n then thinks of it, when she first brought Duncan home he was very rude to her children, but she brushed it off because sometimes her kids could be a little frustrating to deal with but she still loves them.

Duncan has also claimed that he didn't like kids and even though he knew about Y/n having kids still proceeded to be with her. Silas has brought up the fact that Duncan yelled at him and Luna a few times but Y/n thought was because they were doing something Duncan had told them many times to stop, so she brushed off again.

She now knows...she needs to listen to children more.

-----------

A Few Hours Later

Y/n was heading home now, she looks at her home from inside her car watching as the only light was on was the living room light, Duncan must've still been up.

She gets out of her car and locking it up and heading inside, she was right, he was still up, playing video games and yelling while he played them.

He was so annoying.

"Duncan, can you turn that off? It's almost midnight, and I have to go to bed to be able to get ready for work tomorrow," she says. She doesn't want to be up all night because of her dumb boyfriend always yelling at the games he play.

"Later, I'm not done-"

"Now, please," she cuts him off.

"Seriously? ALL I DO FOR YOU AND THIS IS HOW I AM TREATED!?"

"DO WHAT!? YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A JOB, I PAY FOR EVERYTHING! WHAT DO YOU MEAN EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE FOR ME!? YOU DON'T DO SHIT, BUT SIT HERE AND PLAY YOUR STUPID VIDEO GAMES AND I'M FINDING OUT YOU YELL AT MY CHILDREN!!! WHAT TYPE OF PERSON ARE YOU!?" She yells back.

*Smack*

A sharp pain stung on Y/n's right cheek, she holds her cheek, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

He just smacked her.

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

A Few Days Later

Simon held his daughter and set her in her car seat. Silas buckled himself up and was ready to go back to his mothers house.

As Simon pulled into the driveway helping his kids out of the truck, the front door opened and he turns with a smile on his face ready to tell her how much fun his children had at his apartment, but he sees her face.

She looked upset, and then he sees a bruise over her left eye and a red mark on her cheek.

"Y/n?"

"Thanks for bring my kids back safely," she says, giving him a smile.

"Hey...are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me," she says.

"Hey," Simon then cups her face. She doesn't move, it was like she misses his touch and his worried face. "What...the hell happened?" He asks.

"He-"

"Oh finally you brought the kids back, how was it, rug rats?" Duncan asks coming outside and Y/n moves her face from Simon's hands.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!?" Simon grabs Duncan and Y/n ushers her children inside to not witness whatever Simon is going to do to Duncan.

Simon grabs Duncan's shirt throwing him to the ground, Duncan let's out a groan when his back hits the concrete.

"SIMON!" He stops whatever he's about to do, and starts pushing Duncan down the concrete stairs.

"Get the fuck away from my family!" He yells and Duncan starts to scramble to his feet and run away from the house. Simon was breathing heavily to stop himself from chasing after Duncan.

Simon turns to Y/n and her children hiding behind their mom, they've never, never, ever seen Simon like this before, it was almost like they didn't even know him.

"Are you okay?" Simon asks, Y/n.

"Simon-"

"I know...I don't need to fight your battles for you...but when I saw you standing there with bruises on your body, I just lost control because I knew he was the one who didn't, you don't just get those from nothing," he says.

"You-I could've called the police!"

"Tell him to collect his things, I'll be here when he does show up. I don't want him near my children or you ever again."

"You're not my dad-"

"So, you want him to keep doing what he is doing?"

"No."

"Then call him and tell him to collect his shit, and I'll be here to make sure no funny business happens, do you understand?"

"Fine."

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

It was a week later now, Simon did what he said he'll do and he stayed in the house as Duncan and few of his friends gathered his shit and left, it was easy, a little too easy.

"Don't ever fucking come back, do not ask her for forgiveness, now fuck off, all of you," Simon says, slamming the door in their faces and he watched as they left the driveway.

"That was too easy, dad," Silas says as he stood next to Simon.

"I know..." Simon bends down to his son. "I want you to keep an eye on your sister and mother, anything happens, you call me or the police do you understand?"

"Yes, dad."

"I don't need protection," Y/n says.

"You do, if I'm not around," Simon says.

"Mommy, daddy, can we go to the park? It's nice out and I want to play outside," Luna says from the living room.

"Sure, come on, go get shoes on," Simon says. Y/n looks at Simon in a 'are you serious?' type of look, she wanted Simon gone, she wanted to spend her day with her children since Duncan was now gone for good.

"What?" Simon teases.

"Mama, are you mad at dad?" Silas asked, looking up at Y/n.

"No, no, I just...I just wanted to spend time with you guys."

"You can spend time with us, with daddy!" Luna yells coming down the stairs.

Y/n looks at Simon then down at her kids. Maybe, just maybe she'll let this slide once, she's only doing this for her children.

----------

Luna was going down the slide and Silas was at the bottom of the slides arms wide open catching his younger sister from falling onto the dirty mulch.

"I'm sorry, he did those things to you-"

"Could we not bring him up, please. I'm only here for my children, I'm not here...to be friends with you, Simon."

"I don't understand what I did for you to hate me?"

"I don't hate you Simon."

"Seems like it," he rests his chin on his palm.

"I'm just...annoyed...I'm not a Princess that needs saving every time I get into trouble, I can handle myself. It seems like every time you're over here, I'm somehow in trouble and you come to my rescue," she says.

"I know you're not a Princess, Y/n...and I don't mean to come to your rescue every time, but I can't just sit back and watch someone hurt you for no reason," he tells her.

"Mama! Luna is picking weeds again!"

"DANDILIONS AREN'T WEEDS!!" Luna yells at her brother while giving the brightly yellow flowers to Y/n.

"Thank you, baby," she kisses Luna's temple as her kids went back to play.

"I'm glad you let me come," Simon says.

"Again...I only did it for my kids."

"I know."

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

A month later now. Simon was waiting for his kids, Luna or Silas haven't said anything about Duncan in a while, or anything about Y/n since the park.

Simon sees his kids rushing out and Luna pulled on Simon's hand.

"What, Luna?"

"Mama, wants to see you," she says.

"Okay, okay, get in the truck and I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," she says as his kids get inside the truck he goes into the house.

"Y/n?" He calls out. "Y/n?" Once more.

"Upstairs," he goes upstairs and sees at the end of the hallway, her bedroom door open, he walks to the door, peeking through seeing her in a towel and she seemed like she was getting ready for work.

"Y-You wanted me?" He asks. Y/n turns and let's him in.

"Yeah, can you tell me which shirt would go great with my skirt?" She holds up a red button up and and black on, her skirt was just a plain black pencil skirt, black goes with anything, but why is she asking him? She already knows what will go good with the skirt.

"I think they both will look good with it-but why are you asking me?"

"Because...your opinion is a bit valid," she says, dropping the shirts.

"My opinion is valid?"

"Forget it," she says, she turns her back and Simon smiles, she was asking for his opinion.

Simon walks to her, his hands gently caressing her waist. She doesn't stop him, she misses his touch. It was always gentle and soft, he wasn't demanding for her attention or anything, he just wanted to know if his touch still had an effect on her, and it did.

He kisses her neck, earning a soft moan from her lips, her hand goes to his cheek to let him keep going. Y/n then leans back into his touch, his hands going to her towel and letting it lose and fall to the ground.

She turns and looks at Simon, his eyes roam all over her body, from her breasts and her perky nipples to her thighs that were squeezing together. She didn't cover herself up like she was embarrassed that he was staring at her bare body. For fuck's sake, Simon has seen her naked body before.

Simon picks her up and putting her on the bed, moving her clothes out of the way, he picks up her thighs and moving them against her chest, he leans down and kisses her lips.

His tongue along with hers dancing around, and soon her was messing the belt of his pants. He looks into her eyes almost like he was asking for permission. She slightly nods her head, allowing him to push himself into her, earning a soft moan from her lips.

He slowly rocks his hips back and forth watching her head go back against the mattress of her bed, her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to her chest and his kissed both sides of her breasts and then started to suckle on her left nipple while his hand kneads her right breast.

Simon starts picking up the pace her moans were loud now and with every thrust, her moans would go at a higher pitch. She missed this feeling of Simon being inside her. Duncan could never do what Simon does.

Simon looks down at her stomach seeing him just barely bulging from her lower stomach. He smirks and holds her face to let her look at him as he goes a bit harder now. Her nails dug into his arm from the pleasure.

"S-Simon." She moans.

"I know, baby, I know, you can come," he tells her, with a few more thrusts she ends up coming on his dick. He smiles and pulls out watching both of their cum mix together.

He goes down and starts cleaning her up, he then remembers.

"The kids! I need to get going," he says. "I love you, and I'll see you later, sorry for this all of a sudden."

Y/n smiles, he's so flustered, he's never been like that before, she rolls on her side to watch him leave, she gets up and starts cleaning herself up and starts to get ready for work.

She missed him, she truly did. She just hides it.

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 22 hours

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grapefruit and tacos | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“oh look my grapefruit, daddies home! and very early i might add.” waddling as you rubbed soothing circles over your growing belly. spencer met you halfway in the living room, not even bothering to straighten out his shoes and hang his satchel.

“how are my favorite people?” spencer’s big palms cupped around your chubby cheeks. pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose then up to your forehead and finally down to your awaiting lips. you sighed from ease, not realizing how much you were missing him today.

spencer pulled away first before giving one more brief peck. “missing you,” answering his earlier question. his hands traveled down to your stomach which has grown in the past two months. “hi bub, are you treating mommy nice?” his warm thumbs rubbed at the skin beside your bellybutton, your baby will kick sporadically, a lot of times when spencer’s voice is within distance.

“they’ve been good. been craving a lot of strawberries lately, but i’m not complaining.” lifting your left hand to drag on the side of his head, tucking his growing hair behind his ear. “why home earlier? not complaining, but i haven’t done much housekeeping. mostly sleeping.”

spencer turned to kiss your wrist, “finished my paperwork and hotch said i could leave earlier. he understands the struggles of a new pregnancy.” he kneeled to the grow and pressed three kisses onto you stretched skin, three i love yous.

“now why don’t you sit down and i’ll order us takeout. what are you in the mood for?” spencer’s hands holding your shoulders and steering you in the direction of the suede brown couch. you were waddling like a penguin, “uh maybe some tacos. what do you say my grapefruit? tacos?” trying to see if they kick for an answer. you felt a same thump at the tip of your thumb, you looked over your shoulder at spencer while smiling, “tacos please.”

“tacos for my loves. i’ll get some chips and guacamole as well.” making sure you were comfortable before looking for his stack of takeout menus hidden in a kitchen drawer. your eyes just watched his every move, how his lips moved as he recalled the last time he used them. he used the landline, yes spencer still had a landline in his home, and called your usual taco spot just a block away.

within thirty minutes the two of were side by side on the couch with reruns of old doctor who, the wibbly wobbly sound affects a comforting white noise. you closed your eyes and hummed while chewing your food, even swaying your body and head. opening your eyes as you took a drink, you looked to your left to see spencer smiling at you, his food barely touched.

“what?” taking another bite as you waited for spencer to say something. you bet you were the picture of a squirrel or chipmunk, cheeks puffed and mouth pouted.

“i love you and i like seeing you this happy.” sweet and syrupy. you felt your eyes start to water as you took a swallow and set your food down. “oh don’t say that,” you whined, “you know my hormones are at eleven.” wiping away a few stragglers from your warm face.

spencer couldn’t help but to chuckle as he took over the job of tear wiper. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. just- just can’t believe this is my life.” voice getting a bit distant, “i have an amazing girlfriend and a baby on the way… still can’t believe you choose me over millions of other guys.”

the waterworks started again, “i’d choose you time and time again. there’s no one in the world like you and i’m glad i snatched the rare gem.” taking spencer’s sculpted face into your hands and starting an assault of messy kisses causing him to squirm and laugh.

“our baby is gonna be so loved.”

#erin writes spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x pregnant!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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dark-night-hero · 1 day

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Imagine being in a relationship with Dottore but with a twist. He has a fake amnesia.

Imagine months after reuniting with your lover. You started to notice that he was a little different from before. He was your Dottore, at the same time, just like what you have felt before. He was different, there were times where it felt like he was the man you love, but there were also times where you wonder if this man was really the man you love.

"Dar- no, Dottore. Can we talk?" He was busy, you knew that. He was always busy. But at the same time, he always make time for you. He always does, that was something that never changed. "Dottore? Little one, what did I do wrong this time?" Setting down his paper, his masked face came into view. "You always call me Darling but often call me by my name whenever you're upset." He spoke gently, standing up from his seat and started walking towards you who was now looking down at your lap, unable to face him for the words that you are about to say.

Imagine, you love Dottore. Even when he went missing for months. Even when it has to be you to go and went to look for him not the other way around. You did that because you love him. But you do not know what to feel anymore. He feels different. Or maybe you never get to know his true self, maybe what he have shown to you was a mare fragment of himself. You love him still, you do. But sometimes he scares you. It was not just you, you could see the way others look at him, some were admiration, respect and there there was the look of terrified people. There was also that fact that he never once, after meeting you, took of his mask. Did he not trust you anymore?

"Little one." There he was right in front of you. "Couldn't bare to look at me anymore hmm?" There he was sweet talking you, it reminds you of the past where he would often do the same when soothing you. "Look at me little one." You felt him gently place a hand on your chin before gently lifting it up. "Tell me what's wrong, hmm?" You were contemplating, once in a while looking back and front at him and into our side only to let out a sigh. "Dottore, I think we need a break..."

Imagine, Dottore thought you were really interesting. That fact that you, manage to capture the heart of one of his clones, telling you about his real name let alone where to find him. Tells how important you have become to that clone of him. And to be honest for the past months that he has been with you, he did see why. Why his clone had gone through such measure. You were kind and innocent. Very innocent. He could tell you a lie and you would believe it with no questions asked, makes him wonder how could such human being give their trust so easily. It makes him thrilled and it cames him greedy. He wanted to keep you at all cost within his arms, make sure yor world would only revolve around him.

so Imagine the way his eye twitches as soon as you said those words. He have always been patience with you. But at those very moments, he almost grabbed you by the neck, almost asked you why, why would you say such scary thing? Take a break? Why was that needed? He was giving you everything that you want. His time, affection, expensive gift and jewellery, the books that you want. So why was that needed? What was wrong? Why the fuck would you think the two of you needed a break? But then he needs to calm down, he needed to calm down. So with silent rage, he asked. "Why?" Then you answered. "Because sometimes, you felt like a different person, Dottore. You're scaring me sometimes." You answered, eyes tearing up. "I'm sorry." You sniff, looking down once again as he halted.

Imagine the way Dottore halted. A different person? Of course that make sense. He and his clone may be the same but at the same time, they were not. And it was his clone you fell in love with. There might be a resemblance when it comes to him and his clone but the fact that you thought, you felt like they were different, he was different was making sense. But so what? So what if they were different? In the end, he was the one who remained, the was the original. His clone may have found you, but you found him. And that was his win.

Imagine, to your surprise. Dottore suddenly kneel down in front of you. "What are you doi-?!" When you urged when to look at you, his mask was gone, forgotten on the floor. This- this was the face of the man you love. "Little one." You felt your heart ache at his pained smile as you felt him take a hold of your hands that was resting on your lap. "I'm sorry you felt that way." The way his face sadden, his lips curling down, you felt bad to yourself. "Maybe it has something to do with my amnesia." He looked away as you looked at him wide eyes. "What?!" "No- that was a slip of tongue Little one. Do forget what I have just said." Then he stood up and was about to leave. "Perhaps you are right, Little one. Maybe we should take a break.." He sound so heart broken that it immediately snap you out of your flabbergasted state.

Imagine the way you chase after him, grabbing him by the hem of his coat just like the first time the two of you met. "Wa-wait. Dotto- Darling. What do you mean amnesia?" You sound like you were about to cry that it almost made his lips curl up. "Di-did you get hurt while you were away?" This time you thug his coat harder. "Is that why you were not able to come home to me?" You felt so bad. "Is-is that why you were acting to different? Because you lost your memories?" Then you felt his shoulder tremble causing you to panic and hug him from behind. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Darling, I was wrong. We don't need a break, I was a fool. I'm sorry, please don't mind what I said. I did not know you have gone through such thing. If I have known I would never do such thing. I should have never doubted you, Darling."

Imagine the way he turn around and how his heart broken face. Making you feel even bad, his time hugging him, hiding your face on his chest as you cry silently, telling him sorry for saying such hurtful and stupid things. But when you felt him hug you back, you felt a little relief one to feel bad once again when you could clearly feel his shoulder trembling. Once again you murmur stings of apologies, promising you'll be by his side until the end. But in contrast to your imagination. He was not crying like you has imagined him to me. In fact he was laughing, he was laughing silently that it causes his shoulder to go up and down. A devilish smile on his lips as he pull you even closer to him. "It's alright." In contrast to his grin, his voice sounds hurt no one would ever assume it was coming from him if they were to look at his face right now. "You're forgiven, Little one. Stay by my side like you promised, hmm."

#dark night hero #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin drabbles #genshin impact imagines #dottore genshin #dottore x reader #genshin impact dottore #il dottore #dottore #x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader

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weirdmarioenemies · 2 days

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Name: Legsit

Debut: Yo-Kai Watch 3

Look at this! Look at this!!! This is the little guy from emergency exit signs and stop signs and various more of our favorite signs, but this time you can BEFRIEND them! You can run all around town with this absolute icon of an icon! You can take Legsit for a walk across the crosswalk... and you can even teach it to jaywalk! A new thrill it would never dare to experience without your help!

Legsit is an incredible kind of design, the one that's so simple, barely a change from its inspiration, but the inspiration is what's so creative. Legsit is basically JUST the little guy from the sign, with only a little wispy head to differentiate it, but how many times have you seen it used as an actual character, with its origin tied to its gimmick? I have actually long ago had the idea of a Walk Sign Guy as a character (in the context of a boss that swings the sign itself as a weapon, and can call upon the red Stop hand to freeze its opponent) and it is so awesome to see this concept come to fruition in something big, and with its own flair!

By default, Legsit is in its iconic Static Running Pose, though it is not afraid to actually move around, too. It looks good doing it thanks to being tastefully cel-shaded! What if there was an animal that was cel-shaded in real life? Just one. Not even a translucent invertebrate like you might expect, but like, one particular species of vole. Pretty cool!

In terms of gameplay it's very straightforward. Its specialty is to make itself and allies faster like they gotta get outta here. I'm done talking about gameplay already, it's really about the visual novelty there. Now I will talk about its anime appearance, because yowza!

The anime reveals that inside the exit sign is a whole other world, one populated by a whole civilization of Legsit! They each take turns posing in the sign, but when not doing that, they just Hang Out. Some of them play on 3DSes, some lounge about, some play guitar, and some barbecue various meats that are most certainly radioactive! Would you eat Legsit's Famous Toxic Kebab? I sure hope not! Because they were saving it for me.

Legsit represents the creativity and wonder that can be found everywhere in the world, and NOT just if you know where to look! I can assure you that anywhere you look, you will see at LEAST a few things that are waiting for someone to appreciate them in just the right way. Maybe you will be the first to discover the potential of something overlooked, and if you're not the first, then that's great too! It means the world is full of beautiful minds!

#legsit #yo-kai watch 3 #yo-kai watch #yo-kai #not mario #mod chikako #funky friday

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lovdlydaz · 2 days

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❝ YOU ARE FLAWLESS. ❞

artist!choso x black!afab!reader

your boyfriend has a tendency to go over the top when it comes to you, so when you express your insecurities, he makes sure to let you know how perfect you are in his eyes.

warnings: chubby reader, supportive boyfriend choso, modern au (no curses/sorcerers), angst to fluff to smut, cunniligus, p in v, unprotected sex (trying for a baby), "draw me like one of your french girls" type shit, shit tons of praise, creampie, pet names, soft dom choso, very subby reader, just a lot of soft sex and affirmation enjoy

it all started when you asked your boyfriend to go get some healthier foods from the grocery store that you had seen on social media. he was vaguely confused since he knew that both you and him didn't really eat healthy, which was fine for him but not for you. while he had a very fast metabolism and also worked out 5 times a week, you barely lifted a finger and would stay home to cook and clean since your work was at home and on a computer.

so, when you started to gain a few pounds over a couple of weeks you realized you needed to do something about it, so you did. whenever choso would go to the gym you would follow him, doing your own little couple workouts and feeling great right after. then you would stop at a restaurant to grab some food before heading home and watching your boyfriend paint while you did work across the room.

after a few more weeks of working out and eating a bit more healthier, you didn't see results at all. yes you felt lighter and you internally were healthier, your body didn't show any ounce of getting smaller. you still had fat around your hips, small rolls that were only visible when you arched, flabby arms and thicker thighs than normal. and while your thighs and arms had more definition now, the fat didn't go away no matter what you did.

so it started to get to a point where you went into bad eating habits, like eating once out of the day and even that meal was only a few hundred calories. by then, that's when your body started to get smaller, since you let it digest the fat instead of the food you were ingesting. choso didn't like how much thought you were putting into your body, since regardless of how you looked he would still love you anyways.

one day, the man you loved more than anything in the world sat you down for a whole-hearted meaning regarding your physical and mental health. he reached out for your hand and looked you dead in the eyes, his own pink ones staring deep into your chocolate brown ones.

"why did you sit me down? is there something you wanna talk about?" you asked, acting oblivious to the fact that you knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. and it was you. "baby, i know something's wrong. you haven't been acting yourself lately, being cautious about what you eat and going to work out with me when you had work to do. is there something you wanna tell me?" he inquired, making you drop your head and small tears form in the corner of your eyes.

"...do you think i'm fat?" your soft voice mumbled, causing his eyes to widen and his face looked taken aback. "...what?" he muttered alongside you. your face picked itself up and there were tears threatening to leave your eyes as you stared at him. "babe, i've gained over 10 pounds in the last month, i've gone up a shirt size and two pants sizes, i've gained fat around my stomach and hips, and i can't even get into bed without feeling like shit because my stomach pokes out more than it ever has. and i'm not even pregnant..." your voice trailed off since tears were falling down your face, causing your beloved partner to wipe them off of your face for you.

choso pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, your crying always upset him and this just absolutely broke his heart. he had never noticed you feeling this way, all those hints from you wanting to get healthier foods to you barely leaving your built-in office because you were afraid to eat. he felt like the worse boyfriend in the world for not noticing sooner, but none of this was his fault. "b-baby..." he couldn't even form words, your sobs had grown even louder from the silence he gave. all he could do was cradle you in his arms, letting you cry out all the frustration he knew you needed to.

his arms were comforting, soft and hard with a mix of muscle and fat, you felt like he was your personal teddy bear. he was always able to give you the hugs you needed and treat you like a princess when he knew you needed it. so, when you felt him wrap his arms around you to let you cry into them, it was so soothing for you. you cried for maybe about a minute until it subsided to soft sniffles and coughs. he rubbed the small of your back the whole time, letting you get nice and comfortable before you wanted to speak.

it took a few minutes but you finally started up at him, mouth quivering just a little as your glossy eyes looked into his softer pink eyes. choso looked back down at you, just staring into those lovely brown eyes he adored since the first time you two had met. his mouth opened, then it closed, then it opened again, and words started to flow out.

"princess, listen to me. you are perfect in every way, shape or form. no matter how much weight you gain or how much you lose, i will love you regardless of your body. i didn't fall in love with you off of pure looks alone, i fell in love with you because we were made for each other," he spoke, grabbing your delicate face with his rough and gentle hands. "we are like peanut butter and jelly," he continued, "syrup on pancakes, ham and cheese sandwiches, we just... click. you are mine and i am yours, nothing will ever change that. you understand love?" he asked you, looking back to see your tears had started back up, but they were happy tears.

you hugged your lover and nodded your head, which he didn't like. so, he softly pulled you away, a hand on your hip while another against your cheek. "words honey, they don't have to be perfect." he sweetly demanded, making you gulp and open your mouth. "i-i... i understand babe. thank you... so much." you smiled, making him kiss the top of your head once more, which elicited a giggle out of you. but, the praise wasn't over just yet.

now that he had calmed you down, he connected your lips, which you immediately melted into. not caring about what the world thought or what the voices were telling you, you had choso, and that's what mattered right now. it was sweet and sensual, conveying all the inter-meaningful and complex emotions the both of you shared within each other, for each other. it was a kiss that signified your love for one another, and it was just that.

until it wasn't.

after the sentimental moments dribbled away, there came the sexual. you started to softly whine as your boyfriend pressed deeper into your lips, pushing your body against the couch the two of you were on right against the armrest. it was comfortable and actually helped your back a little, but his weight was pressing down on you and you weren't that strong. you could handle it however, since he knew how much to hold up so that he wouldn't crush you. his lips were so rough yet had a smoothness to them that was oddly satisfying. you couldn't put your finger on it, it just felt right.

choso pulled away after a couple of seconds, needing to breathe but he didn't connect your lips back. instead, he dropped lower to your jaw, kissing it tenderly making your body tense with arousal. you could feel your heat start to throb from the way your boyfriend touched you, just like he loved you. and he did. "beautiful baby, wonderful girl," he panted, kissing going past your collarbone now and to the clothed part of your chest. he raised your shirt over your head to pull it off, going to your covered tits and massaging them.

"such a perfect body, would be such a great mama," he murmured, fondling the breast tissue in his large hands. you let out soft noises at this, feeling every emotion rise within you due to the pure fact that his words were reaching everywhere but your brain. you believed he loved you but you didn't believe your body was perfect, but he did, and with pride.

his hands traveled lower to your tummy, knowing that you were sucking in so he gave it a soft tap, which caused you to free your stomach. watching all the fat that your belly had gathered made his cock immediately stand up, it was so hot how much you had gained. and, quite frankly, it weighed your body out perfectly, now you were busty in every place and choso would have to fight every man off because he knew how dangerous you were now.

he softly played with the flesh, going a little too close to your womanhood, but he knew exactly what he was doing. that's why he didn't stop, he just kept going. he wanted you to realize how beautiful you were, how god sent your existence was to him and how fucking in love he was. so, he kept going with no intention of stopping. "such a pretty belly, great for holding my kids," he groaned, starting to slowly hump against the couch because of how much he was turned on by you and your body. he was too entranced by you, every action he did showed just that.

he kissed and marked your pudge, causing soft gasps and whimpers to escape you. you were drenching in your panties right now, which choso could see a perfect outline of your pussy lips from where he was. the only reason you weren't wearing shorts was because your shorts felt too suffocating on your thighs, so you wore one of choso's shirts to cover your ass and thighs. which obviously didn't work, since the shirt was now discarded on the floor.

it took him a while to stop, but once he did, he went back to your breasts and unhooked your bra from behind. he let the article of clothing hit the floor before he grabbed one heavy teat, kneading the flesh with his jagged fingertips while you couldn't keep down your noises. you were melting from his touch, everything about him was making you turn into jelly just from his presence alone. no other man could make you feel how choso made you feel, emotionally and physically. he made you feel things that not even god could comprehend, these feelings were so complex and for one person and one person only.

his mouth latched onto your unoccupied tit, sucking and licking the sensitive nub as his other hand pinched and rubbed the other. your nipples were very sensitive so of course this made you even more wet, causing your back to arch into his touch and your throbbing clit to rub against your panties, making you moan out into the air. he could only get harder from here, which caused a wet spot to appear in his underwear. he didn't care though, at least you were both wet together.

"such big tits, good for my babies," he moaned this time, groaning and wincing as he got as much of nothing as he could out of your tit. he would be sucking all the milk out of them when you got pregnant, he couldn't wait for that. he was so obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant right now, your body was perfect for his children and he wanted you to know that. you would be a wonderful mother and you were both ready for kids, being together since high school and never separating. he wanted you, he wanted to have a family with you, and now was the perfect time.

once choso finished with your chest he moved down to the place you wanted him to, but he completely avoided it to go to your thicker thighs. he kissed and licked all over them, moaning as he did so. "such long and plump thighs, perfect for sittin' on me," he huffed, kissing and marking your legs as he went down. once he finished he moved back up to your heat, kissing the outside of it and licking your clit through your underwear. "such a pretty little pussy, and just for me," he gruffed, using his teeth to tear apart the barrier between his mouth and your cunt, discarding it onto the floor.

after that, he went to town. he grabbed your thighs and held them as he dove nose first into your cunt, licking and sucking around your labia and moving from your clit to your hole. you let out a surprised moan at the fact that he went so fast and ate you like a starved man, which was turning you on even more. he could taste your fluids rushing on his tongue and all he could do was whine and hump the couch, your taste putting him in a trance that he never wanted to get away from. he wanted to taste you on his tongue forever, and he made that obvious in everything he did.

he made it his duty to make sure that you understood that you could feel every bit of his love through how aggressive and hard he was eating you out. he knew that he was going hard but that's what made it fun, that's what made you realize how good of a man your boyfriend was. now you wish he was your husband, but that will change very soon. his messy work on your pussy had you reeling and keening, he knew exactly how to please you and it made you feel so good knowing that he cared this much.

"mm, choso, baby, 'm close," you cooed, grabbing his head and pushing it more into your vagina. he obviously didn't oblige, getting as much of you as he could on his tongue. you came undone a few seconds after that, crying out his name as you covered his face with your fluids. he was surprised how he didn't cream his pants right then and there, but he didn't, which meant he was going to fill you up with all his kin.

he slurped and licked everything he could, some falling around his chin and down his neck. he could feel how you clenched your thighs around him too as you came, which got him even more excited. you were too much for this man, he couldn't contain himself when he was around you. so, after a few minutes of drinking up your juices he freed himself from your grasp, panting like a dog as he stared at you through lustful eyes. his gaze was like a hungry wolf to a poor sheep, you being the sheep in this scenario. he wanted to devour every bit of you, never let you go until all the meat was consumed off your bones.

though, he needed some help as well.

choso grabbed you by under your armpits and picked you up like it was nothing, ultimately making you gasp and blush at the sheer shock of your boyfriend carrying you around like a ragdoll despite your added weight. that made you curl up in his arms as he carried you to your shared bedroom, laying you down on the bed and going to slide off his soaked boxers. his cock sprang out of its prison and hit above his belly button, making you gulp. no matter how much you had taken his cock, the size still shocked you every time. now it was getting serious.

he crawled onto the bed and in between your legs, hooking them up on his shoulders and lining his tip with your quaking hole. you realized how much weight he was actually putting on his shoulders so you tried to move your legs, but he stopped you by holding your calves tightly. "babe, your legs weigh so much less than what i squat. you're not gonna hurt me," he smiled, you about to respond until he shoved his full length deep inside you, your noises sounding like music to his ears.

the thrusts were slow, deep, appreciative of your tight walls and gushing pussy. he would lean down and kiss your lips, softly massaging your skin as his cockhead kept kissing the tip of your cervix. "such a tight fuckin' pussy, my pussy, holdin' my kids," he groaned into the kiss, you responding with a strained noise as he thrusted particularly deep inside you. you loved the dirty talk, it was so good and it had you clenching around him once again. he sucked in his lips at this, wincing and holding back a groan of pleasure.

after a minute of this however, he started to drive inside you a bit faster. you of course didn't complain, you were starting to get close to your 2nd orgasm. choso wasn't close however, despite how much pre-cum was leaking inside you. he wanted to make you cum so many times, splash your insides white with his seed and make you a mother of his children. so, a rough finger pad went to your clit, rubbing it to the speed of his thrusts, which slowly increased with time.

the noise that escaped you was pitiful, making choso's mind churn with thoughts of wanting to just impregnate you so deep that you would be pregnant with triplets, quadruplets even. he looked down at your face, god you were beautiful. lashes fluttering, thick long braids splayed all over the pillow, chocolate brown skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the pure sex you two were having. he loved how hot you looked like this, your loud moans echoing throughout the room fueling him to go faster.

choso kept your legs up as his heavy balls slammed against your ass, the claps getting louder and louder with each thrust. they were soft yet so aggressive, like something had possessed him to just give it to you dirty. but, you didn't have a single ounce of a complaint, he always did you so right because he knew just how to please you, no other man could.

you were getting closer by the second, his rough thrusts and his fast rubs on your clit were sending you higher and higher. he knew this so he kept going, giving it to you exactly how you wanted it. he praises never stopped though, he kept making you feel good, physically and mentally.

"god, such a good pussy, and just f'me." "such a pretty girl with pretty moans, would make a good mother of my kids." "good girl baby... just keep going back on me like that."

his lips never stopped moving, which was very rare during sex. he wasn't very talkative but he was very vocal, voicing to you every noise you made him express due to you and your wonderful body. it turned you on even more, how much he was talking to you and how good he could talk to you. it had you clenching around him harder, throwing your head back and creaming his cock for the second time that night. he bit his lip and rocked his hips through your orgasm, making your noises grow and grow until they died down.

you didn't even notice choso stall inside you until his cum started to pour into you, thick creamy globs pumping inside you for almost a minute. he groaned and leaned down, panting into your neck as he finished in you. "godddd baby, pussy milkin' me dry, fuck," he moaned, you holding his back and marking it with your nails as he finished.

-----------

after your session was finished (it took all night) you were held in his arms, none of you asleep as your company was enough to keep you awake. however, your boyfriend got a little sneaky idea, so he sat up with you in his arms and looked down at you. "babe, come with me to my art room," he said, not letting you decide as he picked you up, walking over to the art room that was all the way near the garage and into the room next to the garage door.

he sat you down on a chair he had in the room, it was covered in dried paint but it was also covered by a clean towel. he went over to his potter lathe and cleaned it off with a piece of leftover wood he had from a previous project of his. you were confused as to why he was currently setting up his wheel but you didn't question it, you learned that the first year you two were together. also, heads up, but you were both naked and he didn't have anything to wipe his hands off with. but, he had a sink in the room as well, since it was an old bathroom before he revamped it but kept the sink.

he grabbed some clay from on his shelf that he had let sit for almost a week, using his strength to slice it up and smash together. he continued this until he had the perfect amount/consistency, looking back at you with a sweaty face. "baby, can you spread your legs just a little? for this next piece i want it to be inspired by you and how good you look with my kin spilling out of you," he remarked oh so nonchalantly, making you blush extremely but you obliged nonetheless. he smiled and started up his lathe, wetting the clay just a little first before starting to sculpt.

it took a good few hours to get every meticulous crease, every indent and every curve on your gorgeous body and you didn't have to do much but just sit there. the chair had a back so you were fairly comfortable, so you fell asleep in a little under thirty minutes. that was more than enough for him to be able to manipulate your body and turn you every which way he oh so desired.

the piece was done in under three hours to get your exact body shape, the clay in your exact shade of skin tone and he had to carefully take it off the wheel before getting a blow dryer and drying it manually. after it dried he got his little knife and cut all the pieces to get every detail of your body as an exact replica. while you were asleep, he softly grabbed your body to see what he was missing, getting every piece down until it was completed.

when he had finished, it was over five hours worth of work he had done just for you. he would keep this replica of you in his office as a reminder of you, a reminder of how beautiful you were to him and how your body was even better. he let the clay dry as he washed his hands off, drying them with a towel he had left in here before picking you up, carrying you to your shared bed.

he laid you down and laid down right next to you, cradling you in his arms before falling asleep, safe and sound.

"choso, why the fuck is there a replica of me in your art room with your cum comin' out of me?"

"it was a surprise, you weren't supposed to know..."

"surprise for who?"

"...me."

"CHOSO!"

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goldsbitch · 3 days

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Hypochondria

part 3 to p1, p2

It's time to tell you exactly what makes me your soulmate. Disaster dinner continues.

20:19

Is it possible to miss someone you've never met? In what strange corner of the universe would this make sense? It felt just like that to Lando - as if he just reunited with an old friend and desperately searched for a way how to connect again. Where to start?

Anita solved that one for him. "Y//N is one of the medics on grid. She was so lovely today. Helped me a lot!" She turned to Lando and then Y/N in a search of some reaction, but those two were stuck in their own silence. She brushed it off and continued. "I figured it would be nice to take her out for a dinner. Wanted to have her join for the club later, but I am afraid it's for invited only, sorry..." she said, with fake modesty. Lando scoffed, completely unbothered by anyone noticing. Anita was doing it again, luring people in and then making sure she nonchalantly pointed out that she is more "VIP" then they are. He usually brushed it of and sometimes found it funny, but this time it made him fuming.

"You are more than kind to do this," Y/N replied and Lando had to close his eyes in order to hide how overcome he was instantly by hearing her speak. Her own voice was always blurry in his visions. Hearing it now, in real life...It was like getting new headphones. "But remember, you should not drink today after the heatstroke...I just need to point that out, can't stop myself," she said semi jokingly.

"Oh course, sweetheart," she replied and took a sip of her cocktail.

Y/N felt a little out of her place in the restaurant, not really sure what she was doing there and why she agreed to come with them. They were a couple, so why was she there playing the third violin? She tried to stop all her intrusive thoughts about Anita's boyfriend. But how could she, the most gorgeous and alluring guy was sitting right there. She secretly watched all of his little moves, the way how he twitched his fingers while holding the menu and wondered how his skin would feel on her own. She cursed herself for being so easily distracted by him. Barely glancing at the menu, she waited for what the two would order and was planning on matching them.

A charming waiter came, shared few words with Anita and recommended some dishes from the special menu.

"I'll have the truffle pasta, sounds great," Anita said, smiling flirtatiously at the waiter. There was an awkward silence, which Y/N tried to fill in. "Yes, I'll have the same, sounds great."

Lando did not even think twice before speaking up. "Um, actually, I really think you should try their salmon. It's to die for. I think you'll love it." He was not able to look at her, while she did the exact opposite. She was taken back by his forward comment. Salmon was her absolute favorite dish. What a strange coincidence that he would recommend it. "Can we get two of the salmon dishes? If that's ok with you, Y/N," he continued, this time finding the courage to look at Y/N. She panicked. "Yeah, yeah. Salmon. Great."

It was like a fire was lit in Lando. He opened the can of worms and there was no way going back. Suddenly, he had all the answers right at arms lenght. And the questions just started flowing.

"How do you like working at the formula 1 medics team?" "Will you be tracking the whole season?" "Do you like traveling so much?" "Are you missing your friends and family?"

It might have been too much for someone to be bombarded with questions, but she found herself excited and eager to overshare. Those two danced a dance of their own, laughing gently and speaking over each other, while also eagerly listening to what the other one had to say.

Anita felt like she was sinking into the chair deeper with every minute that passed. She knew the feeling all to well. Lando, without knowing probably, found anyone apart her interesting. Practically inhaling every word Y/N said. Or at least that's how it felt. Poor girl had absolutely no idea how different this situation was for her this time. Unlike Lando, Y/N still took Anita into account.

"So, Anita, you're a model, right?"

She came back alive and started sharing model related stories, while Y/N listened. Ever-so-impatient Lando just stared at her and started biting his lip in order to stop him from speaking for a moment, realizing that he is in fact not alone with Y/N, but still in a very much public social setting. Y/N listened to Anita, while all familiar phantom pain kicked in, this time in her lips. She kept glancing over to Lando, because it was just too hard not to look at him, when she noticed how vigorously he was biting his own lip. It sometimes happened that her own inexplicable pain aligned with the actions of other. Nothing special.

Lando was at the peak of rude that evening, impatience getting the better of him. "So, Y/N, why have you decided to study medicine?" he said, when Anita took a breath, fully intending on continuing her story. The same way as he interrupted her, she did not give Y/N any room to answer.

"You know what Lando, I am getting real sick of you publicly making it obvious that you don't give a shit about me or what I have to say," she said straight to his face, internally begging for him to deny it.

"I'm sorry, it's just....not every day you meet someone who really does something special with their life," he said, as if Y/N was the first medic he had ever encountered.

"Wow, that's rich. So on top of you not caring what I have to say, you also don't think what I do is interesting."

Lando knew she was right. He knew it all along, but he was also aware of the fact that most of the times, the relationship had been beneficial to both of them. So many emotions mixing in him got him holding his fragile glass real tight.

"Don't play the innocent card," he started, looking deeply into Anita's eyes. "We both know the moment I'm not on the grid, you're jumping to someone else."

The walls felt like they were closing on Y/N. Witnessing couple's fight, however quiet, was never pleasant. All the more when you'd literally just met these people. They played their little verbal tennis, while keeping the decorum composed, as they seemed to be quite skilled at that. Until Lando slipped up. His tight grip on the thin crystal finally ending up with a thousand tiny shiny glass pieces everywhere. It was like a slap to the couple, making them wake up and notice their surroundings. The good old clean up and apology dance began between the guests and the waiters, all of them rushing to help the F1 star with a minor cut that bled crimson drops on the white table cloth. Everybody was so focused on him, that they all missed the second wave of drops hitting the table, this time coming from Y/N hand. She stared at her hand and time stopped. It's not that she was scared of blood. It wasn't that it was the first time something like that happened out of nowhere. It was precisely because it did not happen out of nowhere. Her veins were rushing with panic, instead of blood. She grabbed one of the napkins and pressed hard on her hand, praying that nobody had noticed. Thousands of ideas appearing out of nowhere. So wait, anytime he got hurt, she got hurt as well? Or was it more people? Another coincidence? Her brain was an analytical one. She ran through all the possible little pains that a formula driver could have. It somehow checked out.

She stared at him, completely missing the whole scenery happening in front of her. Anita making a scene, waiters rushing around and Lando trying to calm everyone down.

"When did you crash last time? Like a big one, hospital one," she shot out, as if it was the most important piece of information known to mankind.

Lando felt her panic and intensity for a few moments before she managed to silence everyone, but was equally surprised by her question as everyone else.

"Um, I'd say...yeah, Las Vegas, November." He gave her a questioning look, trying to figure out what was going on her mind, while gesturing the staff of the restaurant to leave them alone.

A massive wave of panic settled over her, images of herself getting admitted to a hospital at that time flashing by. She had to get out there, immediately. And Lando felt that.

"No! No, you're not going anywhere. This is important, you can't just run away like you always do," he said, before she even had a chance to move, because he knew what she was doing. Seen it enough times to recognize the look. If nobody stopped her, she'd be out of there in seconds, not even saying goodbye. A true flight type of person. As if she hadn't been perplexed enough by this point.

"How do you-" she started to ask before being interrupted by Anita, who had have enough.

"I'm sorry, but do you guys know each other?" she asked, with a tone of annoyance barely hidden behind a fake smile.

Lando froze once again, like he had many times that evening. It was not his fault. His soon-to-not-be girlfriend set this seventh circle of hell up. How was he supposed to respond to that?

Y/N hesitantly responded. "No, of course not. I mean, I've only worked with the team here for few weeks anyway."

"Seems like you do, by the amount of questions you're asking" Anita said directly at Lando, fully ignoring Y/N at that point.

"If I had known her, I would not have had to ask questions, right?" he responded, failing at letting his sassy side dormant.

"Is that why you never ask me any questions? Because you know me?"

He bit his tongue. Lando was trying to be good.

Anita made her signature "I knew it" smile once again, which finally set Lando off.

"One asks when they want to hear an answer."

"Great. Charming as ever. You know what? I've had enough."

"Ani, I am really sorry. This is going to sound incredibly rude. I apologize. It's nothing personal. But this is really between me and Y/N."

Absolutely mortified Y/N did not even dare to look at Anita. What the fuck was his game. That was his girlfriend, she was just a random girl.

Anita replied, without missing a beat. "You two can go and play your weird little game without me."

Heavy silence fell, as Anita hastily grabbed all of her things and walked out. Y/N was waiting to see if Lando would even consider getting up and rushing over to her, but knew well enough that that was not the case.

Lando cared. He deeply cared about what Y/N thought of him. "Before I say anything else, please know that I plan on breaking up with her and sorting it out like an adult. This is not how I usually am."

"Ok. I mean, you do you. This is all very...personal," she said, her mind still caught up in her recent discovery. "I'm sorry, this is going to sound strange, but bare with me, this evening is already so much drama, this will not be a great addition."

She was talking to him! Getting curious. Lando would be willing to sit there for hours and listen to her. "Go for it".

"Do you get that weird pain in your left elbow?"

"Yes, after a heavy work out."

"Do you bite your tongue out of nowhere?"

"Only when I'm nervous."

"Ok, ehm. Your wisdom tooth is growing, right?"

"Yup, and it hurts like hell sometimes." This time, it was her shooting questions and him trying to follow in a direction he could not yet fathom. But it was like she was in a trance.

"Ok, ok. You'll think I'm crazy."

"I know you think that," he smirked, knowing they were reaching break through.

"What?" she snapped out of it back to reality.

"You first. I think I also have something you should know." Lando was half excited, half terrified to get his truth out. After all those years, this was all happening in a matter of hours. His life was turning upside down.

Y/N took a deep breath. "The reason I went into medicine is because I have a condition. Random inexplicable pains, cuts, bruises with no real cause of correlation to what's happening with my body. Nobody knew what it was when I was growing up, so I was determined to figure it out on my own." She took out her own blood stained hand from below the table. Lando's eye's went wide. She reached out with her other hand to gesture him that all is fine and no help is needed.

"I think my body mirrors what happens to yours."

"I can feel your emotions. And see glimpses of your life," he blurted out, unable to hold this in for any longer.

They did not stay in the restaurant for long. Felt all to public for this type of conversation. Instead, they were back at his hotel apartment, having to sneak in to avoid any unwanted publicity. Once again, they were sitting opposite each other in his living room area.

"So wait...you feel everything I feel? Like physically?"

"Apparently," she said, flabbergasted. For some reason, the two emotions mixing with each other was anger and relief. Her biggest life mystery solved, in the weirdest way possible. Without saying a word, she kicked him in the shin.

"Ouch," he said and she flinched.

"Yep, checks out."

"I can feel your anger, you know? And frankly I don't understand why you're mad at the moment." He was fascinated. The possibilities that laid ahead of them were thrilling.

"I believe at this stage you should also be able to see my anger. Pray tell me why, why did you have to pick a career that is so physically exhausting!" she moaned, causing him to laugh out loud. Yeah, that was really unfortunate on his part. He made a note mentally to hire a physical therapist for her one day.

She calmed down a bit, slowly coming to term that her emotions were not a private thing anymore - well, technically they never were.

"So what, you just casually know what I feel and see random glimpses of my life?"

"I think it's the strong emotions I feel. It seems the closer I am, the stronger it is."

She was silent, hoping to get a little more out of him. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to ease up the mood.

"Your first nights at the university apartment you shared with those three loud girls. No idea about their names, but I remember the excitement about leaving your home. And jesus, the massive mess the four of you made the first week. How at one point you had to wash your dishes in the bathtub, because it was just too much. And how much fun you'd had while doing it."

She couldn't help but smile at that very specific memory. Gone were the unhinged early uni days, for better probably. It was absolutely breaking her mind in two, knowing he had these random glimpses in her life.

He saw (and felt) the positive emotions that entered the chat, so he tried to sway the conversation that way. "Oh, and the incredibly awkward morning when your brought that one guy home, did not realize that one of the girls was in the room the whole time and how in the morning it turned out to be her ex."

"My god, you saw that?" she said, absolutely mortified. He just nodded, his heart jumping when he made her squeamish.

"It was like being there during the incredibly awkward breakfast."

"Well," she gulped, trying to switch attention from her. "Nobody knows this, but...pain is not the only thing I feel."

She dropped the ball and watched it rolling, wondering if he'd catch up.

"What do you mean? Like exhaustion?"

"That as well."

He was still not connecting the dots.

"Had a fun night last night, didn't you?"

His eyes went wide and a strange rush of guilt washed over him. He just stared at her, finally getting why one of her first reactions was an angry one. Not that he felt that way, but the level of intrusion he must have presented to her was a lot to take in.

"Well...you're welcome, I guess?" he said cheekily, smirking because he knew exactly what she would do.

Shocked, she opened her mouth and smacked his hand jokingly, not realizing it would hurt both of them.

"Fuck this shit," she exclaimed and once again, he could not hold his laugh in as she tried to shake the pain out of her hand.

"This is going to be very funny."

"I'm sorry, Lando - this all just so bizarre. I'm barely taking it in. Literally don't understand how you're so calm."

He laughed gently. "Well, I did have few extra days to process. And hearing my name roll of your tongue is distracting enough," he said flirtatiously.

Her cheeks went red and her mind stopped, mind getting filled with desire and arousal. Lando lips turned into a wide smile, him feeling her arousal as if she was screaming it loudly to his face.

"Glad to see my words have an effect on you. This is indeed going to be fun..."

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crowned-aeris · 2 days

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Part 1 is here!