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aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 1 month

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THE CURSE OF CURIOSITY.

Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader

"While your brother searches the library of the Dragonkeeper Elder for something new to read, you come in contact with some unlabeled fluid. You both learn that it's something meant to aid in the breeding of dragons, however, it also has a unique effect on humans. But lucky for you, your twin is there to help you through the ordeal."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, dub con, sex pollen (rather fluid lol), p in v, breeding kink

WORDS: 4 K

NOTES: Hope you enjoy me having literally zero grasp on English. 🤭

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“It’s far too late for us to be here,” you huff, almost annoyed, as you watch Aemond graze his fingers along the spines of the several books kept in the currently deserted chambers of the Dragonkeeper Elder. “What are we looking for here anyways?”

The room is barely lit by anything else than just a handful of candles. Your twin holds a lantern of some sort in one hand, using it to make out the writings that are carved on the books backs.

When there doesn’t immediately come an answer from him, you start to slowly walk around the room, inspecting its decor. “I have exhausted the castle’s libraries, and hope to take something of their collection for my own,” he murmurs, carefully selecting two books.

You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. Although you’re just a few moments younger than him, sharing the same attributes with your long, silver hair and lilac eyes, you have a much gentler nature than he does, one that doesn’t lend itself to the same mischief you had pursued together as children anymore.

“And you couldn’t have just taken Floris with you? You ought to wed, and doing something together would do no harm to your future union. One sparsely sees you two around court,” you note, slightly annoyed your brother chose to wake you instead of his betrothed.

Knowing all too well that just the mention of the betrothal is going to set him off, you choose to play with fire. If your brother wants your company, he’ll have to put up with your teasing. And just like expected, the notion of being forced into a marriage he doesn’t want to be in irritates him, audible in the sigh he releases. His resentment of the situation has become worse over time as he feels more and more suffocated by the ordeal.

“The girl is as dull as stones. Besides,” he replies with a shrug, “she knows nothing about our family’s history, much less about dragons.” The topic of dragons is something your twin is very passionate about, and you know that the fact that his wife-to-be cares so little about his passion infuriates him. It might be one of the main reasons for his dislike of her. “I have no desire to have Floris at my side any more than she does me.”

His annoyance is palpable, but you don’t feel bad about making it worse. For all the hours he has spent teasing, taunting and annoying you while you grew up together, he gets it back twice and three times over. And although he hasn’t spoken it out loud, you know you’re one of the few people he trusts blindly to be himself around.

“That aside, it would be foolish to read with Floris,” he continues, your silence coaxing him to speak more, “as all she does is gossip with her friends and prattle on about pointless nonsense. You of all people know best how I feel about this match.”

“Floris isn’t so bad, you know,” you defend with a low voice. “And you’ve barely tried to get to know her. Surely you can find at least one thing to like about her. If you did, you might just see she’s not as terrible as you’ve decided.” If you both have to spend your days withering away in marriages sealed by your father and mother, you at least could find a little solace knowing your twin wasn’t as miserable in his.

Aemond sighs in frustration. “You sound just like mother,” he comments dryly, finally moving to look at you from over his shoulder. “Can you really say that you like her? She is dull and naive. I am certain I couldn’t find anything to like about her even if I had all night. There is nothing for me to like about her. Nothing at all.”

Finding yourself at somewhat of a loss of words at this, you open and close your mouth without any words leaving it. Part of you wants to disagree with your twin, as Floris hasn’t been entirely unpleasant to spend time with at court, which makes Aemond’s dislike for her appear entirely without reason to you. On the other hand, you’ve known your brother long and well enough to know when he is resolute about something.

“Just promise me that you won’t be a terrible husband to her. Even if you don’t like her, don’t make your lifes awful,” you finally blurt out.

As you allow your gaze to trail through the chambers once more, you spot some small vessels standing lined up on the desk in the far corner with books and scrolls littered around them. You don’t wait for Aemond to reply as you make your way over, determined to inspect the small containers. The liquid inside of them resembles milk of the poppy, although it’s slightly more permeable to light when you hold it to one of the candles.

You hardly think about the dangers coming with it when you open the lid to inhale a whiff of the fluid. Not smelling entirely unpleasant, it still has you scrunching your nose as a slight burning grows prominent in your nose and throat.

Placing the vessel back down rather quickly, it stands too close to the edge of the desk. You’re not quick enough as it falls to the ground with a clatter, the vessel shattering into pieces and the pale liquid spreading across the floor.

“By the Seven,” you mumble, sinking to the ground to collect some of the larger shards.

The sound of breaking glass and your sighing is enough to catch your brother's attention again. Where he has read the spines of the books before, he makes his way over to the source of the commodation now. “You shouldn’t have dropped that,” he comments dryly, which prompts you to shoot him a heated glare. “Oh, you don’t say, mh?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm.

Reaching for another shard, you pull your hand back with a hiss when it cuts your finger. “Ouch!” you exclaim and rise to your feet, soon enough spotting the crimson oozing out of the cut.

Despite his annoyance at your clumsiness, Aemond’s good eye is drawn to the cut you have given yourself. It’s no deep wound, but even the hint of your blood makes something akin to guilt bubble in his stomach. “What were you doing with that?” he inquires, as he takes your hand to inspect your finger, nodding towards the vessels still standing on the desk.

You watch him twist and turn your hand to have the perfect look of the wound, the stinging pain suddenly not too bad with his warm skin on yours. “I… I just wanted to see what they keep here. It is unusual for anyone other than the maesters to store unmarked liquids,” you reply, hissing as Aemond pinches the cut finger a tad too tightly. “I shall see Maester Mellos. Mayhaps this needs stitching.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

Aemond fetches the books he has chosen from the collection, holding them under his arm as he brings the other to you to place a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the Dragonpit.

On your request, the cut on your finger is stitched by Maester Mellos, although he has voiced that it wasn’t quite necessary. But something tells you the opposite, especially when you catch him staring at your face and checking your temperature more than once. “Is everything alright, maester?” you ask him with a soft voice, a yawn following.

Aemond towers over the both of you, carefully watching each move of the needle in the elder’s hands, just waiting for him to make a wrong move that’s meant to hurt you – he’s familiar with being stitched up after all.

The maester seems to be out of his mind, and only reacts as he hears you say his name. “Maester Mellos?”

His eyes are wide, but he nods quickly. “Yes… yes, princess. The wound should be able to heal calmly now.”

He is quick to pack his utensils up again, and even faster to leave your chambers at once. And while Aemond hurries after the old man, trying to catch up on him outside of your chambers, you don’t wait for any of them to return again with sleep coming over you.

The crackling of the fireplace is the only thing audible when you stir awake, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, making your nightgown cling to it uncomfortably. Your body feels as though it’s on fire when you squirm from one side to the other, not finding back to sleep. A tingling spreads in your loins, and each time your thighs squeeze together, it surges up your spine.

“Gods be good,” you whine, utterly bewildered with the feeling of liquid fire coursing through your veins.

Aemond not so silently rises from one of the chairs close to the fireplace, and comes closer to the bed, though, careful not to startle or frighten you as you regain your bearings. He has hoped you’d sleep through the entire ordeal and wake up as if nothing has happened, but that hope slowly dissipates with each passing moment.

“How are you feeling?” your twin asks, concern in his voice. Suddenly, hearing his voice allures you, and doesn’t diminish the burning at the apex of your legs.

As you clench your thighs together again, it releases some of the tension your body holds, and makes you whine in despair. “Aemond…” you pant, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”

The thin sheets covering your body do little to conceal what is happening beneath, and your brother just assumes it’s your way of trying to suppress your bodily urges ignited by the pale liquid you came in contact with before.

“I…” his usual confidence and boldness completely deserts him at the state you’re in, and he can barely find the words to tell you what he’s been told by Maester Mellos.

As he watches you writhe and writhe about on the bed, he’s unsure of how much longer he can just stand there and do nothing. But his concern and love for you cause him to make the decision to act, approaching you and reaching out to grasp your hands.

At the contact, the feeling of his warm hands fully engulfing yours, it’s like something overcomes your mind and body, luring you in to move, staring up at him with wide eyes as you sit on your haunches. “Dohaeragon nyke… kostilus,” you whimper, strands of your silver hair clinging to the damp sides of your face. “Ziry ōdrikagon.. sīr bāne. Nyke sepār – dohaeragon nyke, lēkia.” Yet you don’t quite know what exactly you’re begging for. Help me… please. It hurts… so hot. I just – help me, brother.

In the dim light of the candles, you spot his eye widening as you shift and squirm, looking up at him in such a vulnerable state with your innocent eyes, pleading for him to help you through your ordeal although you have no idea of what’s wrong with you right now. He can’t help but notice how your hair clings to your skin, seeming as if you’ve just bathed, and that your movements seem to contribute to its dampness.

“Mellos has told me what the fluid is that the Elder keeps in his chambers,” he states, trying to stay calm and not let your state affect him too much.

But with his proximity, all effort of you to process what he’s saying is fruitless. You pull on his hands, as if you want to encourage him to join you in bed, and when he doesn’t budge, you rise on your knees, and start to fidget with the buttons of his coat – solely driven by your urges. “And that is?” you mumble, not really listening.

His cheeks run hot when you start to undo the buttons, and his hands capture yours once again to put a stop to it, making you pout. With furrowed brows, his grip finally has you looking up at him. “It’s something used to aid in breeding the dragons,” Aemond states. “He told me it’s also used to increase their stamina and to make them more…” he trails off, his body slowly growing tense as the implication of what he’s going to say settles into his mind. “... receptive to breeding.”

“Mh–Mh,” you hum almost nonchalantly, and watch completely mesmerized as your fingers graze along his, the warmth and softness of his skin only intensifying the tingling in your loins. Aemond is hesitant, unsure whether or not what you’re doing is entirely due to the potion’s effect, or if there is genuinely some desire for him on your part.

You lick your lips and free your hands from Aemond’s to shrug the opened coat off his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic is pinched between your fingers as you tug on it once again to beg for him to join you. With him taking his sweet time, you find yourself clenching your thighs every now and then to soothe the aching burning at the apex of them.

“He also informed me that ‘tis necessary for someone to… help you through it,” he murmurs quietly, his voice almost sounding shaky as he speaks, “... for it will burn you from the inside out if not.”

Even though you’re fully acting on your body's desires, you do notice the way his widened eye trails down to your thighs, lingering there for a moment before it returns to yours.

You don’t give a verbal response to his words, and instead, your only reactions are subtle ones. Nodding your head slowly, as if you’ve understood what he is implying, your hands squeeze his tunic further into his chest. He can practically see your body tensing with each movement of your fingers, almost as if you’re trying to hold back.

With your eyes firmly locked with his now, you slowly trail your hands beneath his tunic, pushing it up to remove that as well from his body to get further access to him – if it wasn’t for him not raising his arms.

Exhaling a deep breath, you sit back on your haunches. His reluctance does little to quell the fire raging within you, no, it only fuels to make you even more desperate. The lacey hem of your nightgown rides up your thighs as you spread them, and fully exposes your undergarments the moment you bring your hand between your legs. A breathy whimper falls past your lips as your fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt, and then something akin to mischief flickers in your lilac eyes.

“And… will you help me, brother? Or shall I ask Jacaerys for help instead? We ought to wed in a moon's turn after all,” your voice is honeyed as you speak, dripping with feigned innocence. “But you don’t want that, do you? That’s why you’ve stayed.”

You spot the exact moment his breath hitches in his throat. He suddenly feels a wave of heat overcoming him, your words triggering something in him that is more than just the usual desire to protect his younger sister, something primal. You sound and look so vulnerable asking for his help, secretly begging for him and him only.

Intertwining your fingers with his, the intensity of your grip increasing as your senses become more heightened, your twin finally moves as you pull him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as you watch him come closer, and when he is close enough, you reach and pull him down onto you in a quick motion. You don’t waste a second more and lock your lips with his, your hand slowly traveling down his back. But before you can grab his tunic and pull it over his head, Aemond pushes you back to lie flatly on the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. His eye burns with hunger as he gazes down at you, visible even in the dim light, and it makes you yearn for more.

“Well, if I chose to leave you here to your own devices, would you crawl to your betrothed for help? I do not think so,” he says, his voice taking over a mocking tone. “No, in fact, I’m certain you would come to my chambers instead.”

When he doesn’t touch you, you try to wrap your legs around his body to grind yourself against him, but Aemond is quick to catch your hip with one hand, keeping your body still as it's pinned to the mattress.

“Sir, dohaeragon nyke,” you beg, voice shaky enough it comes close to a whimper. But when you notice that speaking in the tongue of your ancestors is not having any effect on him at all, you choose to coax him to tend to you in the Common Tongue. “Touch me, Aemond. Help me… please.” Now, help me.

Aemond is silent for a moment, visibly dragging his eye over your squirming frame. One hand still holds your wrists above your head, while the other slowly but surely releases your hip. “I shall take care of you,” he reassures you. “But you will have to let me, do you understand?”

You gaze up at him with wide eyes and slowly nod your head, only for you to pounce on him the moment your wrists are released. The tunic is gone as soon as your body collides with his, causing a strained gasp to leave your twin’s lips. While just the thoughts of his warm skin on yours have incite your mind already, seeing his bare chest sets your body alight.

His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and he has never treated you as roughly as he does when he pushes you off of him. It leaves you dumbfounded for a moment, more so when he moves between your parted legs, towering over you.

“Look how dull this fluid has made you,” he mocks, the condescending tone of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. Aemond notices that you’re not shying away from him, no, you keen at that. “Just because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“If I help you,” he warns, “no one else, let alone that bastard of a nephew, is ever allowed to touch you again, do you understand?”

It might be the liquid-induced state, or the despair to have him do anything to you already, but you’re far too eager to nod at his words.

Aemond’s hand wanders below the hem of your nightgown to heartily fist your undergarments and peel them off of you. He can already feel that the linen is soaked with your arousal, but still can’t stop himself from licking his lips as he sees your now exposed cunt glistening in the light of the candles.

“Now, we do not want you to suffer any longer, hm?” he asks.

And you nod once again. “Gods, yes, please. I need you, Aemond.”

You don’t have to beg him any longer. He undoes the laces in the front of his breeches and pulls out his throbbing cock, painfully hard and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s slightly curved and thick, and if you have to guess, you’d say that you need both hands to pleasure him, and even then there’d still be a bit of him that would be left abandoned.

Aemond wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance, pushing into you as you both moan in unison. You don’t expect him to set up a merciless pace almost immediately upon fully bottoming out, but you’re not disappointed either.

While you’ve been able to talk before, he’s quickly reduced you to a whimpering and whining mess, relishing in the delicious burning of accommodating his sheer size.

“Does it help?” your twin asks through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his sounds of pleasure at bay. But you’ve been fucked into a stupor by him already, not even able to keep your eyes open. “Mh-mh,” you hum.

Putting some of his weight onto you, Aemond’s hand finds your throat like the most treasured necklace you only take off to sleep, taking up the entirety of your neck and leaving no room for you to shift even the slightest.

It was subtle at first, but the merciless pace slowly changes into something more determined, his hips rolling with each thrust as if he wants to make sure the tip of his cock really brushes your sweet spot every time. He’s seemingly spurred on by the way you’ve lost all inhibitions, not that the fluid allowed you to have any in the first place, and the wanton moans that spill past your lips.

One of your hands grabs his wrist, keeping his hand around your throat, while the other finds solace on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your nails dig into his alabaster skin, and you’re sure that crescent shaped marks will bloom there not long after, staking your claim on him.

“But you need more,” Aemond grunts, and you can’t do more than whimper a pathetic string of yesses. “The only thing that will truly help you is for me to fill you up with my seed, to breed you.”

Your head tips back in plain bliss, and you’re not sparing one thought to the possible repercussions of him putting a child in you. If anything, there is something buried deeply inside of you that has waited for this moment. You have waited for this moment. You grew up thinking you’d marry your twin one day, only for the rising tensions inside of the family to force you to marry your nephew instead as the final straw to mend the chasm.

Aemond’s stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the way your body reacts to him and his words – not when a renewed wave of your arousal drips from your cunt at the mere thought of you carrying his child. It’s running thin, ready to burst at any given moment, hence he brings a deft finger to your pearl, rubbing it with frantic movements that should bring you to peak just in time with him.

The pressure brought to your pearl has your body squirming, not anticipating it and the shiver of pleasure that comes with it. You arch your back and moan, yet a tight squeeze of your throat is enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Do you want that?” he pants, dark blown eyes fixed with yours. “Want me to put a babe in you?” It might be his way to ask for your reassurance, and while your body’s reaction should be enough with your walls clenching around him so tightly, he stills wants to hear your voice.

Your cheeks grow hot as his words finally seem to settle in your hazed mind, a whiny ‘yes’ slipping past your lips. “Fill me up, Aemond… please. I want it,” you all but beg, your voice croaked with him squeezing your throat.

The confession flips a switch inside of you that allows you to let go, your body shattering beneath Aemond with a pathetic whine. He relishes in the way your walls flutter and spasm all over him, utterly mesmerized as relief etches itself into your features.

With a groan, the first wanton sound of pleasure you’ve heard of him, Aemond spends himself inside of you. He connects your lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing down each grunt and groan he unleashes. Working you both through the blissful highs, his hips only stop once he’s sure he’s fucked his seed as deep as possible, determined to put a child in you.

Aemond topples over into the vacant space next to you, his breeches soaked with your arousal and his chest heaving with his breaths.

The sudden loss of friction makes you whine at first, but is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of relief. “Thank you,” you whisper through heavy breaths, turning your head to look at him.

“I won’t leave now,” he says softly, although there is a linger of mischief in his voice. “I would be remiss not to aid my sister in her hour of utmost desperation… so, I shall stay the night just to make sure you really get through it.”

Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat

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dollfacefantasy · 7 months

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You Make Me Cry Every Time

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon's going through a rough patch, and he takes it out on you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, angst, hurt/comfort, leon is mean in the beginning, toxic behavior i guess, implied age gap

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i was going through it and feeling emo so i wrote this. hope everyone enjoys as always <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight

The clock on the end table reads 2:43. Muted sounds of nightlife fill the space outside the walls of your apartment. You’re sprawled across the couch, half-asleep, with a soft blanket draped over you. You were waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Again.

Leon had been going through a rough patch. He was moody and ready to snap at any moment it seemed. He drank a lot, and he was gone all the time. You knew he had been through so much and there was no end in sight. That’s why you tried to put up with it, but all of it was weighing down on you too.

You sharply inhale as the sound of keys being jammed into the lock on the front door rouses you from your stupor. Sitting up straight, you rub your face tiredly. Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness of the living room when the door opens. A beam of light from the hallway shoots across the floor, but it’s gone just as fast as it appears. You hear the lock click again and then see his shadow brush through the room as if you aren’t even there.

He’s in the kitchen now, and you’re not even fully sure of what he’s doing. But you pad in his direction anyways. Your soft voice breaks through the tense silence with a gentle call of his name.

“Leon?”

He turns to you. Even in the dark when you can’t fully see, you can feel the harsh nature of his stare.

“What are you doing up? Told you to stop waiting up for me,” he grumbles.

His tone stings, but you continue to approach him.

“I just worry. I can’t sleep if I don’t know you made it home safe,” you explain yourself quietly.

“Just go to bed. I’ll be there in a second,” he says and turns away again. But before he speaks, you swear you could hear him scoff.

You didn’t understand where his sudden apparent resentment towards you came from. He had always dealt with so much, constantly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. But until the last few months, he never took it out on you. Now though, it felt like you were dancing across a floor full of glass shards to avoid setting off an outburst of his.

“I just want to make sure you’re alright,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and cautiously laying your hand on his back.

It immediately became clear to you that touching him was the wrong choice though. He shrugs you off and pushes your hand back down to your side. Now that you were closer, you could smell the scent of booze on him. It wasn’t as heavy as previous nights, but it was still present. You retract your hand and stare at him with concern.

“Leon, what’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you? We can talk about it. I-” you try to defuse the situation before he cuts you off.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s enough,” he snaps. He fully pulls away from you. “Take a hint. Go to bed.”

He speaks with such disdain for you, it makes your chest ache. “I was just trying to help,” you say, looking like a kicked puppy more and more with each passing moment. He takes no sympathy on you though.

“Well, you aren’t helping. You don’t know shit about my problems, so stop trying to fix them,” he says to you, his voice ice cold.

“I’m not trying to fix anything. I’m just trying to be there for you because I love you!” you defend. His miserable disposition was starting to frustrate you. This wasn’t the first time you’d jumped through these hoops for him.

“Oh, bullshit,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

That slices through you like a knife. Your lips part slightly in shock, and your words tangle up in your throat. You fight back tears, not wanting to seem even more pathetic to him.

“I can see what you want. You want the old me back. But he’s not coming back. He doesn’t exist anymore,” he rants at you.

“I never said that. You can’t get mad at me for problems you’re creating!” you say to him angrily and cross your arms.

“Aw, you don’t want me to get mad at you? Did I hurt your feelings, baby? Am I being mean to you?” he mocks with a cruel smile before his emotionless expression returns, “Grow the fuck up.”

You try to ignore his teasing and work towards a solution, but that really hurt. And it seemed like he said it with no thought or remorse, like he had been storing that and it just came out. Tears burn in your eyes and a lump rises in your throat, but you manage to choke out your next statement.

“All you do is push me away. I can’t help you because you won’t even tell me what’s wrong,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even.

“I push you away because you can’t handle real problems. You show me that over and over again. I mean, look, you’re almost in tears, and I haven’t said anything that bad,” he says with a gesture to your eyes.

“If I’m so fucking immature and selfish, why are you even with me?” you ask. A few tears leak from your eyes and down your cheeks but you wipe them away as quickly as you can.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot recently, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to come up with an answer,” he says. He keeps eye contact with ease. His voice is laced with venom. There’s no trace of anything but bitter anger.

You honestly struggle to come up with a response. But that’s ok because he doesn’t wait for one before he continues speaking.

“I mean really, what do I get from this relationship? I know what you get. You get the attention you’re so fucking desperate for. But me? What do I get?” he asks, “A dumb little girl who follows me around like a lost puppy? I mean you’ve definitely got a pretty face, but it’s everything else that’s getting harder for me to stomach.”

You can’t stop yourself at this point. He knew how to break you down. Your lip juts out ever so slightly and quivers as tears slide down your cheeks. You take a step back from him and look down.

“There we go. Always with the fucking crying,” he sighs. His tone becomes mocking again as he continues. “You want me to kiss it better, sweetheart? Tell you everything’s gonna be ok. That I’m so so sorry.”

“No,” you cry, trying to defend yourself, “I don’t want any of that from you.”

“I’m sure,” he says flatly.

“Fuck you, Leon,” you weep, “I can’t win with you. You’re absolutely hellbent on being miserable. I’m done. Deal with your shit on your own. I don’t give a fuck.”

You turn on your heel and rush off to the bedroom. You fling the door shut, the thud of the slam echoing through the apartment.

At first, Leon didn’t care. His initial reaction was a shrug. He walks over to the couch, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and turns on the tv to some old movie. He was in a pissy mood, and he especially wasn’t in the mood to deal with you.

But as time goes on, and he sits there alone, a sense of shame starts to cast a shadow over his heart. He keeps seeing your face in his head. The soft look in your eyes while they were full tears he caused. Your body language as he ridiculed you, shrinking away from him, eager to get away but afraid of looking weak. He could hear a replay of his voice spitting out every callous thing he could think of. He felt like such an asshole.

It didn’t help that he was surrounded by things of yours. You’d brought out a pillow and blanket for yourself while you stayed up for him. They smelled like you. On the table, you had a book you’d been reading for a while. You’d tell him parts and explain the drama to him when he wasn’t in a bad mood. The tv remotes, spare the one he had grabbed, were organized in the particular way you always did when you watched tv. He felt the void in his heart growing as you stayed shut away in the bedroom.

You weren’t faring much better. You curled up under the comforter on the bed, crying softly into the pillows. You were missing your favorite one since you’d left it out on the couch. You felt a deep ache in your abdomen, a weight that kept you thinking about him and everything he’d said to you.

Despite how tired you’d been before he came home, you couldn’t sleep now. No position felt comfortable. Nothing made the bed feel less empty.

You felt so pathetic. You should be mad at him, furious, enraged. He acted like such a dick. He said things that gave you reasonable grounds to kick him out. But you didn’t feel that way. You didn’t want that. You were heartbroken. He was right. You yearned for him to kiss it better and tell you it was all ok and that he didn’t mean any of it.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it. You give in. It was humiliating, but that was what you chose. You pad into the living room skeptically. You stand a distance from the couch, afraid of setting off another landmine. But if he wanted to yell, you’d let him at this point. You just wanted him.

He sees you standing near the opening to the hallway that entered the living room. You looked so sad, it tore at his heart. Your face was a mess, your posture was so timid. What was wrong with him?

“Come here,” he sighs and pats his lap.

Without hesitation, you cross the room. You’re in his arms, against his chest. Your arms are wrapped around him tight while your head is buried in the crook of his neck. You start crying again, but you keep it as quiet as possible, still hearing always with the fucking crying ringing through your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out as you struggle to restrain a sob. You didn’t even know what you were really apologizing for. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

Another deep sigh escapes him. It could have been interpreted as annoyance, but you could tell it was regret. He rubs your back and holds you close against him.

“Shhh shhh. It’s alright, baby. It’s ok,” he says softly before stroking your hair, “We’re ok. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you weep and cling to him.

“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be so quick to snap at you,” he says in a hushed tone. He kisses your head and continues rubbing your back, something he always did to calm you down.

He kept his voice quiet to keep his own emotions in check. He wanted you to be ok and to know he was sorry. But you didn’t need to know how awful this made him feel. Guilt was gnawing at him now as he watched you cry out the pain his words had inflicted on you. He gently rocks back and forth with you, wanting to calm you down even more.

“Baby, this isn’t your fault. None of this is,” he says, “I got my own shit going on, and I take it out on you because it’s easy.”

His voice drops to a whisper towards the end of his statement. His words dripped with shame.

“You don’t deserve the shit I say to you, but I just see you standing there, looking so fucking sweet and perfect and you’re looking at me with all the love in the world and I can’t fucking take it,” he says, his voice cracking a little, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do,” you cry, grabbing onto him tighter.

“No, I don’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Staying up every night, waiting for a mean old fuck to come home and yell at you,” he says. It was now his turn for his eyes to water while a lump grows in his throat.

You were at another loss for words. You didn’t know what would convince him not to feel so down on himself. Instead, you press a soft kiss to the side of his throat. He tilts his head back and deeply exhales at the pure gesture.

“And when I said I didn’t know why we were still together… I hope you know what a huge lie that was,” he says, “You’re all I have in this ugly god damn world. That’s it. Without you, I’d just be going through the motions.”

You gaze up at him as he goes through this. You curl your legs up on his lap with the rest of your body and lean into his touch in an attempt to offer him some comfort.

“And when I look at you, I see the opposite,” he says, his voice fully breaking now, “I see someone who has her entire future ahead of her, and she’s wasting it hanging around a guy like me.”

“You’re not a waste,” you say, sitting up and placing your hand on his cheek.

Your thumb moves back and forth in tiny motions, dragging across the skin soothingly. You both stare into each others’ tearful eyes.

“You’re not a waste to me. I love you. You’re important to my life too,” you say seriously looking at him.

“Baby…” he sighs. You were so fucking cute. If he had any spine, he would break up with you. Force you to do better for yourself. But he couldn’t. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be able to let you go.

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. You rub your nose with his. You shift on his lap to be in a better position to give him your affection.

His hands fall to your hips to steady you. He returns the gesture and presses two gentle kisses of his own to your cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers.

You lean in for more kisses, accepting the apology with your actions. You rub the back of his neck and press your body against his. The question of whether he deserved forgiveness crossed your mind, but you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t really care.

He groans into the kiss as he feels your breasts flush against his chest. Your tongue enters his mouth, and he returns the passion. In a few minutes, saliva coats your lips and your breathing is heavy. You gently roll your hips down.

He feels that as soon as you do it. He disconnects his lips for a moment and looks at you with dilated pupils. You rock your hips again, bringing down your clothed cunt on his jeans. The stiff fabric gives you a good amount of friction and coaxes a whine from your throat.

“Honey,” he grunts, “Are you sure? You’re not just doing this because… because you think you have to, right?”

He didn’t want you using sex because you thought that’s what would please him. But he also couldn’t ignore the feeling of his cock hardening in pants.

You shake your head, panting as you grind on him, your lips still flushed from making out. “I wanna feel your love,” you say, your voice breathless.

That didn’t make him feel much better, but you felt so fucking good. “Babe, I can make you feel loved in other ways. Afterwards, I can show-”

“Wanna feel close,” you say before kissing him some more to shut him up.

Well, this would be as close as you could get. That put him at enough ease to give in to his urges. He grabs your hips harder, kneading the flesh of your ass too, and guides your movements. Both of you let out pleasurable sounds at the sensation.

“So fucking good to me,” he grunts, “My perfect girl.”

Your hips don’t stop as you pull off your thin sleep top. Your head falls back at the muted pleasure you were receiving from rubbing yourself on him.

His hands leave your hips and cup your tits. He squeezes them and then brings his mouth to a nipple. He flicks his tongue on the peak and swirls it with dedication. You let out a breathy whine.

He scoots you closer and continues his mouth’s work on your chest. His cock was now completely stiff in his pants, offering you even better friction. You feel it pressing on your clit just how you like, and you bite your lip. He can tell it’s feeling good.

He pulls his lips away from your nipples. Then he lays a few wet kisses on your jaw before picking you up by the waist and laying you back on the couch. He tugs off your shorts and panties.

His hand slides between your legs. He drags his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were.

“Such a sweet girl,” he breathes and captures your lips again in a quick kiss, “You’re soaked, babydoll.”

You nod timidly. He rubs you a little more, circling your throbbing clit and gliding over your wanting hole. You bite your lip and moan softly. Your hips rock against this touch as well before you suddenly whimper at a loss of contact and look up to see him sliding your fingers in his mouth. He groans at the taste of you before pulling the fingers back out of his mouth.

Reaching down, he unbuckles belt and drops his pants to the floor. He strokes his solid, flushed cock a few times. With the faint glow of the tv casting over the two of you, you can see a bead of precum emerging from the head. He adjusts his stance and positions himself at your entrance.

“I’m so sorry, little love. Let me try to make it better,” he breathes as he pushes inside.

Moans bubble in his throat as your tight, wet heat engulfs him. His head tilts back, and a ragged breath puffs from his lips. He grips the back of your thighs and holds your legs up.

He’s slow at first, dragging himself in and out, making sure to feel every inch of you. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, and your hips squirm for more.

As he begins to really thrust and set a consistent pace, he leans down to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and rushed, but he needed to feel you like this. He needed to feel that he hadn’t broken the connection you two had.

“My precious fucking girl. Am I making you feel good? Do you feel close to me?” he grunts, his grip tightening, “Can you tell how much I love you?”

You whine in response and nod. Your body heats up as he continues to slide in and out. He stretches you out just the way you like, fills you up so perfectly. He hits every sweet spot inside of you to make you forget he was even capable of saying such mean things sometimes.

You reach your arms up and pull his head down to rest against your neck. Your eyes were still full of your tears from earlier and a few slip out because of the strong difference between the euphoria of right now compared to the despair of the last hour.

One of your thighs drops back on the couch as the hand that was holding it comes up to your hair. He laces his fingers through the strands and begins pressing messy kisses to the side of your throat.

“My pretty baby,” he whispers against your skin, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

His hips continue their movements, his pelvis connecting with the skin of your ass over and over. He nuzzles your neck. You can hear his mix of harsh pants and soft groans right next to your ear. You cling to him as the heat inside you rises.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Wanna make sure you’re getting everything you deserve,” he says.

“Feels perfect,” you whimper after a string of moans, “I- I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too, doll,” he says. His hips piston into you harder. Your hands dig into the muscles of his back while your toes curl

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Leon,” you choke out as a cry leaves you.

“Mhm, good baby. I want you to cum for me, honey. I want you to feel so fucking good. Let it all go,” he says.

His hand slides from his hair to your face and brushes away some of your tears. He kisses your cheek softly as you fall over the edge into bliss. Your body convulses underneath him as you release. You moan and writhe and the whole time he strokes your hair, cooing at you “my pretty girl” and “so so good for me.”

You were so tight around him. The sight of your eyes squeezing shut and your lips parting in ecstasy was too much for him. He thrusts into you a few more times before a moan rumbles through his chest and out of his mouth. He slams deep inside of you to spill himself. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your insides.

You were shaky and trembling as he pulled out and planted a kiss on your forehead. He sits back on the couch, pushing the hair out of his face before pulling you up and close to him. He positions you on his lap and holds you to his chest.

He starts rubbing your back again and kissing your hairline. “Love you, babydoll. So so fucking much,” he whispers.

Your eyes close as you return the embrace and melt into his lap. You nuzzle and kiss his chest, relaxing into the affection.

“There’s my girl. All mine,” he coos.

You nod, enjoying the nice moment and letting yourself pretend that this whole cycle wouldn’t repeat in a few days time.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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themandaloriansdiaries · 1 year

Text

Sorry Not Sorry

Warnings: Minors dni!! fingering, slight name calling (nothing super harsh) (oral, f receiving) slight choking, hair pulling. dirty talk. p in v, unprotected rough sex. (don't be silly, wrap that willy) smut, smut, smut!! and some fluff towards the end

Pairings: Anakin Skywalker x F reader

A/N: I really love the way this came out. It literally took forever because I wanted it to be perfect!! shoutout to my bestie for helping on some parts. n e ways, I hope you all love it as much as I do :))))

Word Count: 2.1k

While you and Anakin were both out on a mission, you had the urge to be a bit devious; payback one would call it. He had been getting on your nerves during the flight home seeing that he was frustrated about the mission not going the way he wanted it to.

You figured why not make his day as miserable as he’s made yours?

It truly wouldn't be that hard to make him even more frustrated, something as simple as disobeying him in front of the others would set him off. You smirked at the thought of that. You knew by doing so, you'd deal with the consequences later.. in the bedroom.

Later on that day, Anakin had asked you to do something and with no hesitation, you simply said no. This took him by surprise, only because he's never experienced this kind of attitude from you.

“Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly?" He asked, his tone low.

You looked at him with a smug expression on your face. “You heard me correctly, I said no." This caused you to receive a look from him. You paid no attention to him and continued on with what you were doing. As you sat quietly, wishing the ride home would go by faster.

What you hadn’t noticed was Anakin had sat next to you and moved closer to you at some point. He was so close to you that you could feel his lips brush against your earlobe. “Once we land I want you to meet me in my room.” He whispered in your ear, causing chills to go down your spine.

As you landed, you quickly got up from your seat and made your way to your quarters. You already knew what was going to happen once you got into Anakin's room, so you figured you would freshen up. A quick shower to wash up when you stepped out of the shower, you decided to spray his favorite perfume.

Anytime you wear that scent, it drove him nuts.

Wrapping your robe around your body, you made your way down to his bedroom. You enter the room and before you could even call out to him ,you feel yourself being pushed up against the wall. A gasp slips from your lips at the sudden contact of your back against the cold wall. A chuckle came from the corner of the room, causing you to look in the direction of the noise. It wasn’t a big shocker to see him slowly walk out into the light.

“You didn't think I forgot about what you did earlier did you?" He's closer now, his face inches away from yours. You look up at him, deciding to play along.

“What did I do?" you ask innocently, batting your lashes in hopes of getting away with it.

His hands find their way towards your body, his grip tight on your hips. “Oh please y/n, don't play dumb,” his lips against your neck as he speaks.

He’s able to take in your scent, causing him to groan. “You know what that perfume does to me.” He loves the way that perfume scent mixes in with your skin.

Hearing him fold just from that makes you smirk. “I know how much you love it, that’s why I wore it”

His hands move their way up to your breasts and he grips them, caressing them roughly. It doesn't even hurt, if anything it feels too good.

You moan softly as his hands toy with your breasts. "oh Ani-" you're cut off by him.

“It’s master to you" He says, one hand making his way to grip your neck while his other hand continues to caress your other breast. Despite your eyes being closed enjoying the attention you are receiving from him, you could feel his eyes fixed on you; watching your every move, waiting to see how you’d react.

Anakin knew the moment he got you in the room, you’d cave; you always did. You were putty in his hands and you both knew it.

you're not sure what turned you on more.. the tight grip he had on your neck or the fact that you knew that soon you'd be on all fours getting fucked senselessly by him.

you were truly such a whore for him and he knew it too. always loving his roughness with you, letting him have his way with you. He loved it. He loved seeing the way you would crumble under him, how weak he could make you just by his touch.

"You think you're slick. disobeying me in front of the others. trying to make me look like some bitch?" he said, you could hear a small hint of anger in his voice. He pushed himself up against you. you felt yourself getting wetter by the minute. the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your aching core, the feeling drove you insane.

you wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside of you already.

"I'm sorry Master" you struggled to get your words out, distracted by him. truthfully, you weren't actually sorry. You only said it because you knew that's exactly what he wanted to hear from you. He smirked at the sound of your voice, you sounded so small to him, so fragile. He loved the affect he had on you.

soon he would be breaking you apart.

“Strip.” He's watching you like a hawk, as you take each piece of clothing you have on, off.

he takes a few steps back from you. "Get on the bed, now" you do as you're told but instead of actually getting on the bed you decide to stand in front of it.

"I said get on the bed" he’s right in front of you now. His eyes are darker. He pushes you down roughly onto the bed. All you can do in that moment is look up at him.

He’s now towering over you, he uses his flesh hand to roughly spread open your legs.; his fingers run along your wet slit, spreading your folds, exposing your juices to him. “Look at how wet you are for me” he smirks.

His fingers apply pressure to your clit. He's moving them in a circular motion, painfully slow.

Your eyes are shut; you’re bottom lip in between your teeth while you try to keep in your moans. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction but you’ve failed.

Pushing yourself against his hand “p-please Master.”

“What is it y/n, spit it out.” He’s amused with how much of an affect he has on you.

“I need more. Please” you manage to get out between your whimpers.

He grows harder at the sight of you; the way you’re falling apart just by his touch, the way you sound, those small noises that are escaping your lips.

As much as he doesn’t want to give in to you. He can’t wait any longer. Just as you’re aching for him, he’s aching for you too.

He thinks about the way your walls stretch around his length. The way he fills you up so perfectly.

“Fuck this.” He gives in; his head is now in between your thighs. He doesn’t waste anymore time. His tongue laps at your swollen clit, he’s now slipped two fingers in you, fucking you with them.

Your back is now arched, your head thrown back. All you can do is moan. Your hands resting on the back of his head, pushing him further into you. “Oh f-fuck, fuck, you make me feel so good Master” you cry out through gritted teeth.

He groans against you, continuing on with what he’s doing. He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, he knows what that means. You’re close. He stops. Pulling his fingers out, moving his head. Instead of you cumming on his fingers.. he wants you to cum all over his cock.

You whimper at the sudden loss of his touch.; you stare at him with a pout now on your lips. “That wasn’t nice”

“Does it look like I care? I want you on all fours. Now." you do as you're told and reposition yourself; now your face pressed against the pillows and your ass high up in the air. He stares at your body, almost creaming his pants at the sight of you.

You wait eagerly, you’re so ready to be filled up and used by your Master.

He quickly undresses himself; he’s now positioned behind you. His hand grips your hip tightly, while the other grabs ahold of his cock and lines himself up at your entrance.

Before slipping into you; he’s teasing you by running the tip of his cock up and down your slit, spreading the wetness that you and him both created.

You being impatient, you try to push yourself against him. Earning a slap to your ass. “Be patient, whore.”

You moan at his words.

Before you know it, he slides into you, slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him as he fills you up. He watches as his cock disappears. Moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching around him. Without any hesitation, he pulls out and thrusts back into you roughly.; fucking you like the dirty little whore you are.

The room is filled with the sounds of your skin slapping against one another. Your moans and his groans.

You move your hips; thrusting back into him. This new action from you drives him crazy, causing him to thrust even harder.

“You feel so good inside of me, Master! Please don't stop .” You practically scream out.

“F-fuck y/n. I won’t! I’m gonna keep fucking you like the little whore you are.” his eyes are shut, moaning loudly, his hips drilling into yours.

His movements remain at the same pace as before, his hand still tightly gripping your hip.

Moans escaping you both.

You shove your face in the pillow in an attempt to quiet your moans.

Anakin notices; wrapping your hair around his free hand, he pulls your head back from the pillows. “Don't hide your sounds, I want them all to hear how good I make you feel." He meant every word. He really did not care if anyone heard you both. He wanted the others to hear you, to know that you are his.

You belonged to him.

“More,” you call, begging for him to give you more. Anakin could never say no to you. His hand slid down the curve of your spine, resting between your shoulder blades. Quickly moving his arm around you. He pulls you up, your back against his chest. His hand finds its way to your throat, gripping it.

It was needy and messy; feeling you around him drove him mad, hearing you ask him for more was the cherry on top.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" Anakin asks, your little hand wrapping around his wrist. You nod, unable to verbally answer him.

"Good girl."

Your moans continue to echo throughout the room. finally you reach down to apply pressure to your clit; rubbing aggressively, this and his harsh thrusts throw you over the edge. your head thrown back, eyes rolled back. "I'm gonna cum.” You cry out.

“Cum for me, cum all over my cock baby." His thrusts become sloppier, indicating he's close as well.

"I'm cumming, gonna fill you up." he groans loudly, filling you up with his seed.

Small whimpers escape your lips, your body trembling from the intense orgasm you just experienced.

He gives you a minute before pulling out, and you feel him get off the bed but you aren’t sure where he went. You’re much too tired and to be frank, fucked out, to even care at that point.

The water is running and you can hear footsteps. Anakin comes back, crouching down by the bed. He rubs your back softly and you look over at him.

“C’mon,” he says, his hand stretched out for you as he helped you sit up.

Anakin wraps your robe around you before helping you stand, legs like jello as he slowly walks you towards the bathroom.

The tub is full and there’s bubbles peeking over the ledge.

You can’t help the giggle as you glance over at him, “you ran me a bath?”

“it was the least I could do,” he smiles, kissing your temple as he walks you to the tub.

He takes the robe from you, his hand in yours as you step into the tub, a satisfied hum when you sink into the warm water. Anakin’s crouched down by the tub now, his arm hanging in the tub as you look at him. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

“I love you, you know that, right?” You tell him, “no matter what.”

Anakin smiles, turning to press a kiss to your palm.

“I love you.”

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker angst #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #star wars fan fiction #darth vader #darth vader fanfiction #darth vader smut #Darth vader fluff #star wars fluff #star wars angst

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wosoluver · 1 month

Text

Trying hard

Andrea Medina x Teammate!reader

TW: suggestive content

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Why are the both of you fighting so hard to hate eachother?" - Asked Lola.

No one on the team understood where all that came from. And seemingly not even you or Andrea seemed to know.

"She started it."

You were all doing warm ups in training

"Literally when?" - Lola insisted knowing her friend very well. And Andrea just huffed at her.

You were new on the team, arrived in the beginning of the season. You were a forward, she was a defender, you naturally clashed a lot during trainings.

But still there was never an event to cause your constant bickering at each other.

"Everyone dividing into teams." - Yelled the coach.

As usual the two of you were in opposite sides. But twenty minutes in Medina started to get frustrated. She couldn't manage to stop your attacks, that led her to commit a bunch of fouls, this one had been particularly hard.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" - you screamed out as you got up. You were in pain but in the moment you saw red. And you pushed her back. - "You aways pull this shit! Try to learn how to manage your anger issues. It's not my fault you suck at your job."

And that's all it took for her to stand up and try to start a physical fight.

But thankfully you were separated by your teammates.

"You two are staying late as punishment." - That's the only thing coach said before starting the game once again. You stayed on the sidelines trying to cool down.

You couldn't help but watch her every move. How the sweat glistened over her muscles as she gave her all on the pitch.

"Alright we're done for the day. Not you, Medina and Y/L/N, you two are working on your 1 v 1 and if you start another fight we'll have a problem."

"Fuck!" - You let out under your breath.

You grabbed the ball closest to you.

You two did some drills, but when you tried to pass her once again she pulled you down, but you managed to trip her with your legs, and soon she was on the ground too.

"Your not gonna yell at me?" - she asked.

"I'm too tired for that." -

"Why do you do it?"

"You're the one who keeps attacking me! But I apologize for saying your not good at your job. You're actually pretty skilled."

"Yeah, just not enough to stop you."

You looked over at her watching how the sun made her eyes look, their prettiest.

"Sorry for being harsh, I just- it's frustrating."

You got up and offered her a hand up in the process, which she took.

"Let's go."

You both went into the locker room, and went straight to shower. But she accidentally slipped on the wet floor right in front of you, taking you down with her.

"This one was not intentional I swear!"

"I'm so going to get bruised." - you said trying to help each other up. But failing miserably. But taking the situation in comically.

When you two finally managed getting up, you finished showing and getting changed.

"Can you give me a ride home? I came with Lola this morning."

"You'll owe me one."

"Fine."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Next day everyone was shocked when the two of you started joking around.

"Oye, I'll go easy on you today!"

"No, you can't!"

You left for the gym, as Andrea stayed behind.

"I knew it!" - Said Lola.

"Knew what?"

"You two liked each other deep down."

The younger girl only rolled back her eyes. Leaving the room. She didn't want to admit to anything.

She stared at you the whole day. Now that she couldn't blame it on the hate, she realized that maybe those feelings she had, were more than frustration. It was a mix of admiration and longing. It felt somewhat like a crush. And the realization made her cheeks red.

"Y/N! Can you stay and train with me for a little longer?"

"Yeah of course."

Lola simply looked suspiciously at her friend. - "Don't you need me to give you a ride home?"

"Y/N can take me."

"Okay." - She didn't want to insist too much. But she knew something was up.

After spending another hour training you decided to call it a day. Heading inside.

"You're doing better at blocking me."

"You're still winning though."

"Give it some time, you'll get there."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

That week during the derby, between the team and Real Madrid. You were being ferociously taken down. Probably for the same reason as aways. But that was working you up, and Andrea as well. Even if she wasn't personally getting hurt.

But when they took Wifi down, as she was about to enter the penalty area, Andrea was so annoyed, she started running from the other side of the pitch to start a fight with Oihane. But before she could you intercepted her, pulling her away the best you could.

"Hey, stop if you get another card, you're out of the game."

"I don't care!"

"Well, I'm not letting you."

"You can't boss me around like you do to everyone else!"

You thought you were past this stage of fighting for no reason. She thought so too, but right now she couldn't deal with the pressure of the game, her hot headed need to bite back and the way your arms held her back with force against yourself.

Once the game was over and you were ready to leave, you walked towards the car without saying goodbye to anyone.

But unfortunately Andrea was able to catch up with you.

"I'm really sorry."

"I thought we were on good terms!"

"I can explain, can we please get into the car?"

"I'm not giving you a ride."

"I'm not asking for one. I just want to talk privately."

You huffed as you unlocked the doors.

You both sat respectively in your seats. You waited for her to start talking.

"My head was spinning out of control. The way they were making so many fouls, and we were struggling to keep up, was getting to me and when you held me back in your arms, I just exploded."

"You keep throwing your frustrations on me again and again."

"I know, but I've been trying to fix it, since I realized where they came from."

"Which is what? Your anger issues?"

"I don't have anger issues, it's you!"

"I don't have any anger issues!"

"No, I mean I have a crush on you.

That's what has bothered me from the start!"

By now you just stared at her, mouth agape.

"You're not going to say anything?"

But before she had barely ended her sentence, you kissed her passionately. This led her to pull you from the driver's seat to seat on her lap. And when you pulled away to breathe, she decided to pull you to the backseat to blow off all the steam you had build up during the game.

And you thanked god you were parked so far from everyone else that day.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

#woso x reader #espwnt #andrea medina #andrea medina x reader #atletico madrid femenino

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st7rnioioss · 4 months

Text

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ used to be my girl, pt.1

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: teeny tiny angst, swearing, smut!!!, oral fem!receiving, p in v, kissing, NOT PROOFREAD

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hii everyoneee. i really really like this song, and like the whole story behind it. thought it would be fitting for a fic teehee.

summary: You had gotten together with Chris 10 months ago. This relationship was a two-way mirror. Chris only saw one side of the relationship, whereas you saw two. But of course, this was a one way street, so it only went downhill after you had gotten together.

GUYS I CANNTO WRITE ORAL HELP😭 sorry

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Gimme all your love so I can fill you up with hate

Your POV

“Chris, I think we should end this relationship. This is not working out, you know I’m looking for a future with you! I can’t believe you’re being so selfish!” I spat, heavy tears running down my already-soaked cheeks. Chris looked nowhere near bothered. His hands were in the pockets of his stupid Cherry LA sweatpants. His face fell.

“Love, I told you this when we got together. As I said, there is nothing good underneath my appearance, I warned you. It’s not my fault that you thought you could change me.” he looked frustrated, his brows furrowed.

I couldn’t believe him. He had seemed so changed after a few months of dating, but apparently he wasn’t. I gave him all my love, yet he’s filling me up with nothing but hate.

“Chris, I think you need to leave. Now.” my voice lowered and broke a couple times in that sentence.

“Come back tomorrow and grab your things, please,” I sniffed, adjusting the strap of my tank top that had fallen off from my frustration. Chris was staring at me. He seemed surprised by what I had just told him, which made me even more mad at him. So selfish.

After a bit of hesitation, Chris left my apartment in a heap with a small pat on my shoulder.

Chris’s POV

With a pat on her back, I was out.

From the beginning of this relationship, situationship may be more fitting, I knew she wanted to change me, and she was sure she could. I knew she couldn’t. No one can. But what I also know, is that she would always hold a special place in my heart. I do love her, I’m just not in for anything serious or long-term, which she has made clear a bunch of times she is.

I made my way out of her driveway. Suddenly I hated this car. Where she was once sitting, laughing at my stupid jokes, pulling me in to kiss her, going through a drive-thru, was now a heavy silence. I was shattered. It didn’t feel real.

Time skip

I was staring at the ceiling, lying in my empty, cold, bed. I couldn’t believe I managed to fuck up this bad. I truly did love her, it was just the commitment that scared me to death. The effort you have to put into a long-term relationship.

And of course, as I’m lying here, the memories start flooding over me, and I did nothing to stop it.

Flashback, third person POV

“Chris, stop! What the fuck are you doing!” she laughed loudly, running onto the damp grass in the backyard. He giggled, trying to throw another cup of water onto her but failed miserably.

“You’re ass! At least try, Chris!” she teased, making her way to the blanket that was spread across the grass. She stumbled over a few pillows, a squeal leaving her lips as she fell over.

He was hovering over her in no time, looking down at her as he poured the water onto her.

“Oh, that was a good one,” he laughed, leaning down between her legs on the floral blanket,

“Oh my god, you’re such a dork, Chris. I’m wearing a white shirt.” she lowered her voice and tucked a piece of drenched hair behind her ear.

“That’s the point,” he almost whispered, leaning down to capture her lips in a gentle but desperate kiss.

“I love you, Chris,” she whispered with a cheesy smile, running a hand through his wet hair.

Her smile faded as there was no response.

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Flashback, Chris POV

Her legs were propped up on my shoulders, head in the pillow, my hands wrapped around her thighs.

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, okay?” I mumbled, ducked my head into her pussy. She was glistening with arousal already.

“Chris please- I need you so bad,” she whimpered, bucking her hips forward, up to my face. I teasingly flicked my nose against her clit, slowly licking a stripe up her folds.

“Oh my god. Stop teasing me,” she whined, intertwining her fingers with my hair. I held her hips down, keeping her in place from escaping my grasp.

So I stopped teasing. Sticking my tongue into her, I earned a loud moan from her. I’ll never get tired of that, it’s like music to my ears.

“You gotta be quiet for me, baby. You don’t want Matt or Nick to hear, right? I promise, I’ll let you scream all you want later,” I chuckled darkly, going back to sucking on her clit gently, earning a few more, attempted muffled, moans from her, making my head spin.

“Please go faster,” she panted, tugging at my hair. She knew it made me go crazy when she did that. In return I let out a groan, making her hips grind against my face.

Again, I slowly licked up her folds, sticking my tongue back into her pussy, purposely rubbing my nose against her sensitive clit. I tried my best not to grind my hips into the bed, but her moans alone turned me so much on.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew she was impossibly close to her orgasm.

“Turn around for me,” I murmured, standing up to take off my sweatpants and boxers. There she was, lying on the bed in front of me, her back facing me.

“Good. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?” I said as I positioned myself behind her, grabbing her hips to position her ass up in the air.

She nodded silently, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Now, try to be quiet,” I snickered, aligning myself with her soaked pussy. Slowly, I slid into her, groaning as I bottomed out.

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” I whined, pulling out before thrusting back into her. A few lewd moans escaped her lips, elbows shaking as she fell face-forward into the pillows.

My hands were gripping her hips tightly, speeding up my thrusts as I felt her clench around me.

“Chris, I’m- I’m close. Please-” she moaned. My fingers found their way to her mouth, sticking two fingers in.

“You heard me. Be- be quiet,” I stuttered, keeping my fast pace, the only sounds filling the room being the squelching from her dripping pussy and the occasional quiet whimpers and moans from our both.

“I- Chris,” she whined quietly, cum slowly covering my cock as she reached her climax.

I didn’t stop my thrusts, in fact, I sped up. Her back arched, falling completely forward as I kept going.

“You can take it. I know you can,” I groaned, feeling my own orgasm approaching. Tightly, I gripped her hair, pulling her face up to look at herself in the mirror beside the bed. I could tell she was close again.

“I want you to look at me when you cum for a second time,” that was a lie. I wanted to look at her. Her fucked out expression made me go fucking insane.

It didn’t take me long to finish inside her.

End flashback.

Your POV, present time.

I was shattered. I really did love Chris. A lot. And now he’s gone, possibly forever. Well, not until he picks up his things from my apartment.

I had spent the rest of the afternoon on my couch, eating a shit ton of ice cream, and watching the movies me and Chris never got to finish... That’s another story.

He hadn’t texted me all day since I told him to go home. I mean it made sense, but he always texted me whenever he got home.

What if he went out? Is he hurt? Did attend a party? Is he also crying on his couch? Sleeping?

All the thoughts circling my head gave me a headache. I settled on going to sleep on the couch, trying to sleep the thoughts, and pain, away.

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a/n: byeee i hope this isn't ass LMAOFOO. if you couldnt tell i hate writing smut, its jujst so eughhh. i hope it was bearable

taglist: @chrissgirlsstufflsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriiniie @lacysturniolo @ukiyosturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @luv4lanadelrey @emma4eva @ilovebenjamin @pettydollie (lmk if u want to be added!)

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut

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sulieykte · 1 year

Text

𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂 ೃ⁀➷ 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐

Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (19) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (21) Warnings: explicit smut, light bondage, softdom!Neteyam, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, p in v Word Count: 800-900 a/n: A continuation of this request because I just couldn't resist! Click to be added to my taglist. Na'vi word bank: yìmkxa - Banshee catcher, tewng - loincloth, sevin - pretty, yawne - beloved

Neteyam might have a future as a photographer.

previous | next

Neteyam finds your lessons much less of a chore after his discovery of your hobby. His enthusiasm had impressed his father as he left to meet you with a cheerful goodbye to his family.

"This is a Yìmkxa."

You had rolled your eyes. Of course you knew what it was. It had been placed in your hands many times, through the previous attempts of your father and Jake to push you to train for your iknimaya. Later you might think of that as a mistake, but as he pressed you into the forest floor, hands bound with the tool and pulled taut over your head, you had little time to think of anything but the body looming over you.

You're thankful that he had chosen a spot so far from the village for your lessons as he denies you your fifth, or was it sixth release? Your brain had turned to mush when he'd pulled his hand from your aching core for the third time and your frustration had overtaken you the tears beginning to fall as you begged him to just please touch you again.

Neteyam stares down at you, tears spilling over onto your cheeks, chest heaving in desperate breaths as you arch your back, trying to attain any contact with his body and failing miserably as he holds tightly onto your restraints. It's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and he nearly gives you what you want right then and there, his own throbbing arousal getting harder to ignore by the second.

"Neteyam, please." You whimper and he feels himself twitch, arousal leaking from his tip onto the forest floor.

"What's wrong sevin? I'm just getting you ready for your close up." He smirks, licking his fingers clean of your sweet arousal before reaching for your camera.

Your eyes widen as you catch his movements, ears flattening against your head as you realise what he's about to do. Your mouth drops open and nothing but a whine leaves it, your face flushing as he holds it up in front of you. You had never been on this side of the camera before and the thought of it, of him being the one to capture your image, sends your head spinning.

"Oh don't tell me you're going all shy on me now?" He presses his hips into yours, tip brushing against your swollen clit and you wrap your legs around him, unwilling to let the sensation escape again. "You run around all day, disregarding your duties to your clan." He rolls his hips and you let out a sob, the friction pushing you close to that edge again. Your thighs tighten around him in fear that he will rip it away once more. "Sneaking away just so you can touch yourself on camera."

"Come on yawne, don't you want to look pretty for the camera?"

You nod, face glistening with your tears and lower lip quivering as he lifts the camera up to his face. His breath hitches as he sees you through the screen, your trembling form a delicious sight as you look up at him through wet lashes. He bucks against you, his tip finding your entrance and your mouth drops open in a silent cry. He has his shot.

"Smile, sevin."

The flash lights up your face as he pushes his entire length into you, your dripping core making the slide easy. Your back arches, fingers wrapping around your restraints just to have anything to hold onto for support as you clench around him, seemingly finding all of your missed orgasms at the same time. A low growl rumbles from Neteyam's chest as he discards your most prized possession on the ground, teeth gritting as he presses his face into your neck, trying not to tumble over the edge with you. A feat he's surprised he manages by the time you're finished mewling in his ear, and your back slumps back to the ground.

When he feels like it's safe to do so, that the movement won't cause him to paint your warm, inviting walls with his seed, he lifts his head from your neck. His nose is mere inches from yours as he takes in your face. When he sees your mouth agape, shining with your spit as you blink away what's left of your tears, he can't help but lean down and catch it with his own.

An experimental slide of his hips has you gasping into his mouth, and he swallows it happily as he continues his languid movements, loving how your cunt, your thighs, your everything tightens around him.

"How about, if you learn how to use this thing, I'll let you take some pictures of me next time?" He pulls at the yìmkxa to make his point, pressing your body even deeper into the forest floor as he thrusts into you, pace quickening in chase of his own release. Your eyes widen and you flutter around him, the suggestion sending you over the edge once more.

taglist: @justasimps-blog, @iwantjaketosullyme , @theycallmesia, @andraga12 (you didn’t ask but i had to)

#~ lys writes ♡‧₊ *#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fanfic #neteyam smut #neteyam reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #avatar x reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader

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migosis · 7 months

Text

after a long, hard day at work (erik killmonger x OC)

summary: exactly the title. Nyla treats her man after a long hard day at work.

warnings: D/s, smut, c*ck worship, alladat nasty sh!t, its k!nktober!!!!

When he arrived home, she was to be kneeling at the door upon his arrival.

She figured today must've been very busy for Erik since she didn't hear from him at all since the morning. He hadn't even replied to the lovely photos she'd sent fresh out of the bath. She'd oiled herself up and admired herself in the mirror. She looked so good it that it would be selfish not to share it.

After dressing, she kneeled at the elevator entrance awaiting Erik's arrival, a ritual she performed daily. She was in lounge clothes since she stayed at home today and did some light cleaning. She wore a soft v neck t-shirt that hugged her torso with loose-fitting pajama shorts that tied at her waist. Her back was straight, and she allowed her hands to rest palm up on her knees.

She was thankful to hear Erik's voice on the other side of the door within minutes. She tensed a little, already sensing his frustration from the tone of his voice. He breezed in, acknowledging her with his eyes only. He sat his briefcase down haphazardly and paced the room as he spoke firmly.

"T, I get it, but we're not folding. The terms of the contract stay the same. They will sign it if they know what's best for them."

"We wait it out until midnight. They really don't have a choice unless they want to be indebted to colonial forces forever. Trust me on this. They think they're going to force our hand, and that's not the precedent I'm trying to set."

Now Erik paused in front of her as he listened to the voice on the phone. She proceeded to carefully untie the laces on the oxford dress shoes before he stepped out of them. He sighed harshly and hung up the phone. He ran his hand over his face, and his shoulders dropped a little, decompressing from the day.

He used the back of his hand to stoke her cheek. His knuckle tilted her chin upwards as he leaned over to kiss her intently. Relief flooded through her body when he touched her.

"I'm sorry about that princess." He held her elbow as he straightened his back, pulling her to her feet.

"That's okay. I hope everything works out. Are you really sure they'll sign?"

She helped remove his suit jacket and hung it up in the closet. He nodded.

"You're trusting your gut. That's all that matters." He smiled at her, happy that he had her to come home to.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine, a bit restless. I mostly just organized and cleaned a little. I got some of the holiday decorations out, but there's a couple of boxes I can't get to, so I'll need your help."

"Baby, it's only October."

"Yes, but I need to take inventory of what I have so I know what else I need to buy. They're already putting the Chistmas decorations on the shelves."

"Alright, Alright. Have you talked to Pandora lately?"

"We talked a little last week."

"You should link up with her soon."

"Okay. She's pretty busy with the baby, but I'm sure she probably could use some support." She hadn't seen her best friend since her baby was born 8 weeks ago since they we're hours away from one another.

"How about when I get down those decorations, I pull out your art supplies?"

She didn't want to be disrespectful by rolling her eyes, so she just looked away with her arms crossing her chest. Anything that required much of a creative drive hadn't been on her radar lately.

"I just don't want you in this big ass penthouse lonely and bored."

"I'm not lonely or bored." She defended.

"But you're isolated, and I don't like that for you."

"I get out... I go to.. the store. And on walks." She tried to sound convincing but failed miserably. "I've been filming more book reviews for YouTube."

"You have and that's great. But that same community you're building online is just as important in real life."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, I get it. I'll reach out to Dora."

"Did you see my pictures?" She said with an upbeat lilt in her voice.

"I did. They were real nice baby, made my day." He pulled her close to him, arms resting on around the small of your back. Her eyes sparkled at his praise.

"I can make it some more, that is, if you have time for me, Sir? It seems like you had a rough day."

"I have a few loose ends to tie up, then I'm all yours. Wait for me in the office?"

She kneeled at Erik's desk, but when he walked in, he relieved her, insisting she sit in the armchair near the corner of the room. That meant he'd probably be longer than she wished for. She cozied up with a blanket and a book while Erik typed and took a phone call. After reading two chapters, she glanced at him over the book. He was concentrated on whatever he was doing as he looked between two monitors. She strolled over, settling behind him. Briefly, she looked at the monitors, but the spreadsheets that overflowed with data made her head hurt. Knots of tension in his shoulders began to unravel while her hands worked. Once her fingertips kneaded his temples, he sighed in relief and relaxed in his chair.

"Thank you, princess. I'm almost finished. Please be patient."

Since he said please, she didn't allow her disappointment to show.

"Kneel next to me. Legs open, head down." He kissed her on the forehead before turning back to his screens. The command ushered in wetness between her legs. Her heart beat quickened with so much anticipation that she had to focus on her breath to stay calm. About ten minutes later, she saw Erik's footsteps move around her. The room was still before he returned again. She heard the book she was reading earlier plop closed, then clinking over near the bar cart.

"Look at me." He sat relaxed in the armchair she occupied earlier. He leaned back slightly, chin up, shoulders back, and arms propped up on both sides of the chair. His button-up was untucked, the first few buttons undone, and the tie he'd worn earlier was no longer confining his neck. He beckoned her to come to him with one hand motion.

She crawled over to where he sat, maintaining eye contact with him. He admired her as she kneeled before him. She smelled the bold amber liquor in the tumbler Erik sipped on.

"Would you like a taste?"

"Yes, sir." He held the glass to her lips for her. When he pulled the glass away a few dribbles flowed down her lips. Erik caught them with his tongue before they could even reach her chin. His lips enveloped hers, demanding entrance. She allowed his tongue to survey her mouth, their tongues wrestling like this until they were out of breath. Erik's hands groped her breast, which made her nipples press firmly against the fabric of her shirt. When his lips left hers, she let out a small breathy moan.

"Take this off." When her top half was exposed, she grasped her breasts roughly as she bit her lips, demonstrating how needy she was.

"That's my job, hands at your knees."

She whined but the sounds soon turned into pleasurable hums as his lips sucked her nipples. He nipped at her flesh with his teeth, it causing her stir underneath him. From the table beside him, he picked up a ball gag and brought it to her pink lips, already plump from their kissing. When she did not open her mouth him he looked at her curiously.

"What is it?"

"I don't wanna wear that. I just want to taste you." She placed her hand on his knee, brushing against the fabric as she moved up his thigh.

"But you were so good just now, waiting on me. Can I say thank you first?"

"You've just been on my mind all day." Her doe eyes made it hard for him to refuse, but the truth is that he'd been craving to see the face she made when she came.

"It'll be quick then. That means you're already wet for me. Plus, I want that mouth nice and messy. Now, move your hand until I give you permission."

She retracted her hand placing it back on her knee. This time when he brought the gag to her mouth she opened it. When Erik peered at her he saw gratitude in her eyes.

She looked beautiful. He reached inside her shorts, easily accessing her, as she was free of underwear. His fingers pressed into her folds. She mewled and melted into him. Her essence glistened on his fingers when he pulled them out to examine them.

"Look at that princess, I was right. You want me to keep going?"

"Uhm huh." She slurred behind the gag.

"Say please."

"Puhles." She struggled.

There he was at her entrance again, slipping in two fingers this time. Her eyes fluttered, then closed completely as she focused on the sensation. She pushed downwards, encouraging him to go deeper. His fingers curled inside of her, pushing against her pillowy folds. Her moans rang in his ears despite the ball gag. A pool of saliva that collected began to ooze from her mouth onto her chin and dripped on her chest. The messier her chest got, the more her pussy seemed to follow. Erik had easily slipped another finger inside of her and she'd been so close to cuming that Erik needed to support her weight. He could feel her clenching around him periodically.

"Be a good girl and cum for me." The hand that wasn't inside of her rubbed against her clit. Her warm juices splashed as kept his pace, even as her insides contracted against him. Indistinguishable sounds broke free from her throat as her body seized. He watched in satisfaction as the meat on her pudgy thighs and backside shook. Her empty, unfocused gaze stared beyond him, drunk with pleasure.

Erik removed the gag from her lips replaced it with his fingers. She sucked them slowly and hummed in delight.

"I love seeing you on your knees. It makes me want to fuck you."

It was times like this when the words he said sent shivers down her spine that made her wait worth it. She loved that he wanted her, she loved being a slut for him. Erik stood from his seated position, allowing her to see that he was fully bricked up inside his pants. Her mouth watered in excitement. She looked up to him eagerly, anticipating his movements.

"Fuck my throat," She pleaded, "Please, Sir." She had almost forgotten her manners in her desperation. She rose on her knees so that she was eye level with his dick. She watched as he took his time unbuttoning his shirt. The more of his skin that he revealed, the more she craved contact. His frame was thick, and sturdy. It became hard for her to sit still and she no longer knew what to do with her hands, so she went back to squeezing her nipples that were slick with drool. It was when he removed his undershirt and began to unbuckle his belt when she interrupted.

"May I?"

He dropped his hands at his sides and moved closer towards her obliging her. Her fingers couldn't move fast enough to unbuckle his pants, and move his boxers out of the way. Her mouth was on him immediately, the pants and boxers still hung around his hips. She swallowed his length entirely. He let his head hang back as he growled under his breath. When he looked back down at her, he struggled to keep his composure at the sight. Her pretty chestnut eyes blinked up at him through full, curly lashes. She engulfed him again, and remained here until her throat strained. When he left her throat she gasped and moaned out.

"Take your time, baby. I'm not going nowhere." She nodded, only slightly embarrassed at her neediness.

"I love this big dick." She took him in her hands and slapped him against her tongue a few times. "You making me so wet."

She lifted him up and slowly glided her tongue under his shaft up and down, feeling each and every vein there. She left soft, wet kisses on his balls before licking them lightly, suctioning them with her lips. Her tongue rhythmically massaged the flesh. His groans only fueled her to take more of him into her mouth, as much as she could fit. She focused her lips again at the tip of his dick, while one hand massaged his balls. She tightened her lips around the head of his dick and watched him. His eyes were low but focused. His abdomen tensed beginning to thrust further into her as her teasing would only suffice for so long. She allowed him to set the pace, and when he began to hit the back of her throat, she nearly orgasmed to the lewd noises that came from her mouth. It was like there was a secret g-spot there that made her insides do summersaults when Erik poked it. He gently guided her movements with his hand on the back of her head. He felt amazing gliding down her throat, but she could take more. She dropped lower under him, sitting on her ankles, and placed her hands on the outside of his thigh, encouraging his movements so that he could literally drop the dick down her throat.

He groaned as he slid down her throat. "You are my lovely little cocksleeve. How's that feel angel?" She moaned and blinked back tears.

"Move your hands so I can give you what you asked for." She relaxed her muscles as best as she could and concentrated on breathing in through her nose when Erik would slide out. She loved the sensation of her heavy tits bouncing each time he'd hit the back of her throat. Saliva rolled down her chin and collected at he base of his dick. When he slid out of her, her only purpose was to clean him off.

Nyla was perched in front of him, watching his muscles move as he removed his clothes completely. He stepped backwards and sat down. When she tried to come closer to him, Erik shook his head. "Stay." His eyes were dark and stern.

She pouted in protest. He leaned back and stroked himself as he took in her body. The evening sunlight that filtered through the curtains hit her perfectly, amplifying the warm red undertone of her skin. Swollen lips, wet eyelashes, and a complete mess all over her breasts. Hesitantly, she moved her hand down her body into her shorts. She looked him in his eyes and raised her eyebrow as if to ask, 'Is this okay, is this what you want?' Her clit was moist and puffy. She circled her clit and cried out with need. When he did not stop her from touching herself, she took the lenience and ran with it. She leaned back, removed the shorts and it was a matter of seconds before her pussy welcomed her fingers inside. She did not take her eyes off of him or his dick. His chest moved up and down as he breathed and his forehead was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked so strong and godly gazing down at her while his muscles worked to pleasure himself. She took note of his movements so that when she took over, she could recreate them herself.

"Can I please cum? Can I cum with your dick in my mouth Sir?" He made her plea a few more times before he called her over with a hand signal and a nod. She crawled the short distance to him. She kissed his feet, his calves, and all the way up his thighs. Before she could begin, Erik grabbed her by the neck and kissed her sloppily. She used the wetness between her legs to make his dick shine before taking him in her mouth. Once she found her rhythm she played in her pussy until she came again. Her eyes rolled and fluttered with him still inside of her. She felt Erik's dick twitch in her mouth at the sight. She brought her face close to his and encased his dick between her breast, moving up and down slowly.

"Don't cum yet, cause then I'll have to stop. And I still haven't decided where I want your delicious cum? What do you think?" She licked her lips. Her movements, paired with her provoking words, were hypnotizing.

"Its your world baby." Is all he managed. She smiled internally, feeling empowered. His orgasms was hers. All hers.

"Good, I just want you to relax honey." Erik smiled at her endearment, her care meant the world to him. "I love you," she said lowly.

"I love you." Moments between them like this made the world feel like it was at a standstill, like only he and her existed and nothing else mattered. She took him in her hand and rubbed him against her face, scattering warm wet French kisses all over his groin and dick. She massaged him, only using her hands for a while, returning to his balls and further down to his taint, pressing gently.

"Fuck, baby." His breathing hitched and his toes curled so she took it easy in that area. While one hand stoked him, the other gently made its way up his torso. You brushed your lips and tongue against his torso, the sensation of her breath made goosebumps spread across his body.

"You are so handsome, you know that? I don't know how I got so lucky." Erik's head rested against the chair with his legs outstretched. His eyes were closed, only opening occasionally. She used both hands, twisting and stoking, letting her mouth drip onto him to keep it moist. She applied slight pressure to the tip, and when she noted Erik's hips tilting up towards her, she slowed her motions again.

"I could do this for hours. You taste so good."

She circled his dick around her lips basking in how nice and hard he was. When he briefly opened his eyes and saw the pleasant smile on her face, he began to moan, knowing she truly enjoyed this did something to him. Her intimacy and devotion made him feel seen.

He slid into her mouth with ease. She allowed herself a moment to rest there, paying him true tribute. She hummed and slowly began bobbing her head up and down, then added her hands to the combination.

"Mmmm, just like that." He groaned. "I think I want my cum down your pretty throat, would you like that?"

She moaned in response.

"Hands behind your back." He grabbed the curly bun and guided her head down his shaft, his hips thrusting up slowly. Her mouth opened wider and wider, and her tongue moved out to accommodate him. She held her head there until she began to struggle for air. He repeated the same again, leaving her gasping for air. As he held his position in her throat, he pinched her nose for a few seconds. Her throat spasmed around him before he released her and pulled away. Warm strings of saliva hung from her lips. The whites of her eyes turned began to turn crimson.

"Please, give it to me." He soothed her, wiping a tear that began to form at the corner of her eye. Her begging made his dick ache in bliss, a culmination of how he'd felt the past thirth minutes bathing in her mouth. He was back inside of her mouth, fucking her throat rapidly. She held her head still for him like a good girl would awaiting his cum. On her tongue, she felt his dick begin to throb. She could feel warm spurts ooze from him, marking her throat, and she swallowed each one as they came. His moans of satisfaction made her more fulfilled than she could ever describe. He squeezed the tip so that any remaining landed on her tongue. She licked her lips and placed subtle kisses on his dick that laid in his lap.

Her eyes ran over his body. He laid back, limbs limp in exhaustion. Once he gathered himself, he looked at her in pure amazement and appreciation. He could tell she wanted to be close to him, occupy his space.

"Come."

She straddled him, laying her head on his shoulder. He palmed her thighs, giving them a nice jiggle before lightly rubbing her back.

"Are you good princess?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me please you."

"Thank you, princess. Where'd you learn to be so attentive?"

"What do you mean?"

"You anticipate my needs. And that... that wasn't no regular head."

"Well, you anticipate mine too. You deserve honor. Just because you're my Dom doesn't mean I can't reciprocate. I belong to and submit you, without you asking."

"Damn, say that last part again?" He bit his lip before meeting your eyes and joining you in laughter.

"I belong to you, Sir." He traced her features with his eyes before gracefully placing pecks all over her face.

Several hours later, chimes from Erik's computer caused him to stir in his sleep. They'd fallen asleep in his office. He was disoriented until the glow of the screen caught his attention. He shifted under Nyla's weight causing her to grip him tighter and persuading him back to his sleep. It was 12:05am and chimes became continuous beckoning him to the computer. He sat her down where she curled into ball and sulked over to the screen. Several new emails sat in his inbox. The first was the official signed contract agreement. The next was a link to an article from T'Challa headlining to new deal.

Wakandan officials agree to allow U.S. based descendants of slavery asylum after rampant white supremest attacks.

"Damn these muthafuckas are fast. I knew those terms were fucking irresistible."

He picked Nyla up to carry to to their bedroom. She groaned at him disrupting her sleep, but he ignored it. "Baby, guess what? They signed the contract."

"Okay baby. Just have them call me tomorrow, I'm sleep."

Erik laughed off her nonsense and covered her body before sinking into the bed himself. He closed his eyes, noticing how light and refreshed he felt. Although he felt a sense of relief about this deal he groaned internally when he began to think about work. He recalled Nyla's words from earlier about honor. He knew that he needed to honor his body and mind because the exhaustion that encompassed him at the moment was not for the weak. He felt a sense of calm wash over him as he made the decision to take some time off of work, perhaps go on a vacation for the holidays.

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loliwrites · 2 months

Text

November: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

part four of fountain of sorrow

pairing: javier peña x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni warnings/tags: set between s2 & s3, early/mid ‘90s, single mother [reader has a young daughter][child won’t play a massive role], sassy chucho, chickens, brief discussion of past physical abuse [not graphic], javi being a good girl dad, SMUT, fingering, mild exhibitionism, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, subtle declarations of love-ish, post-sex photos, female reader, no physical description, girl dad!javi, soft!javi, protective!javi, no use of y/n. word count: 8.0k series masterlist a/n: ALL CAPS EXCITEMENT

Javi combed his hair in his normal style, then inspected his mustache, making sure it looked neat and tidy. He ran his hand over his mouth and then jostled his shoulders. A quick glance in the mirror and a swipe at an errant wrinkle on his button down shirt. The last time he’d been on a proper date… well he ventured to figure that was way back when with Lorraine. A little out of practice here, which somehow felt even stranger considering he was so well practiced with the sex that usually came after proper dates.

He’d only just flicked off the bathroom light when the knock at his door came and was paid little attention. Probably just a neighbor. The more who knew he was back in town, the more came over to ask a favor or rehash the miserable past. So he paid the second round of knocking even less attention than the first. Surely they’d get the hint and move on. Leave him alone.

“Javier! Abre la puerta, pendejo!”

No one more than his father loved to call him that. And hearing Chucho’s increasingly frustrated grumbles, Javi rushed to the door and yanked it open just as equally frustrated as his father. “What?”

“That’s how you greet your father now?” Chucho pushed past Javi and entered the house mumbling under his breath, “cabrón.” Then, as if it had taken him a few extra seconds to realize his son looked more put together than usual, he spun around and eyed Javier. His eyes flicked up and down to inspect him. “Where’re you going?”

“What do you need, dad?”

Chucho smirked and folded his arms over his chest. “My boy’s got a girlfriend, don’t he?”

“Dad,”

“Who’s she? Do I know her?”

“Do you need something? I have to leave,”

“Came by to say you’re off the hook on helping me with the chicken coop on Saturday. Throwin’ a pre-Thanksgiving barbecue.”

“Great,” Javi tried to usher Chucho back toward the door.

Chucho complied but not without his own ace up his sleeve, “bring the girl that’s put’ya in such a stellar mood. And before you say no, I’ll make you fix the coop by yourself if you don’t.”

“She’s kind of busy on the weekends,”

“Figure it out, son.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

You stared at yourself in the mirror, trying not to focus too much on all the things you thought were out of place. You knew in actuality they weren’t. It was your brain nitpicking. And for what? It wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d be seeing you. And clothed no less! Four months of near constant sex over the weekends mixed with long weekdays of enduring solitude and loneliness. But since Javi had brought up the idea of an actual date, there’d been two sides of you tugging against each other. The one side that was excited to see what this meant in terms of what was happening between you two. You hadn’t thrown dating seriously off the table completely, you just didn’t think you’d do that with him. Which is exactly where the other half of you stepped in. The half that was sure Javi wasn’t the person to get serious with. Keep him under the cloak of darkness.

And life had given you unexpected time to dwell on it. Because after it was floated as an idea you had a buffer week of you being busy with Halloween plans. And then the following week Lily was home from school with the flu. The week after that, you’d picked up the nasty bug courtesy of her. By that point, Javi realized waiting for a free weekend from you was costing him more time – at least as a date went. He still got to see you those nights for sex. So he pitched a weeknight date. After work, drop the muñequita off with your mom, and he’d pick you up from there.

“He’s here!” Your mom called out from the other room. You gave yourself one more parting glance before exiting the bathroom. “Why are his pants so tight?”

“Mom,” you tilted your head to the side and complained. It was giving you flashbacks from high school. Back when she’d interrogate your suitors like you assumed a father would, had yours stuck around. But that was all you managed to say before you kissed the head of your little angel who was busying herself with a coloring book. “I won’t be back too late. Probably ten or so,”

She nodded and waved her hand at you. Don’t worry about it. Go have yourself a fun night. And with one last grateful smile at her, you pulled the front door open and slipped out of it just in time to intercept Javi as he was coming up the driveway. He looked just as good as ever. Almost made you sad you’d be in public tonight. And though he looked the same, he was holding a small bouquet of flowers in front of him, and that was new. A little more thoughtful than most gestures from him.

“You look great,” he smiled and leaned in for an immediate kiss.

You reciprocated instantly, feeling an innate sense that your mom was most definitely looking out the front window, watching you. So you pulled away and looked down at your outfit after a quick, chaste peck. “Yeah? Are those for me?”

“Yeah,” he grinned and handed the bouquet over.

You fondled the delicate petals before burying your nose in them. A surprisingly nice scent, and also surprisingly, not some filler flower. You wouldn’t have expected a guy like him to have good taste. “Let me put these inside. I’ll be right out, then we can go,”

He nodded though you’d already turned away from him, heading back for the house. And seeing as though it wasn’t at all an invitation, Javi stood in place and looked around awkwardly, pushing his hands into his pockets, awaiting your return.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

If there was any part of you that thought the awkwardness would dissipate once at dinner, you were sorely, sorely mistaken. It all remained as if both of you were unsure of who the other person was, what the intention was… and you knew he was picking up on it, too. The way his cheeks grew red whenever he accidentally interrupted you. The way that redness progressed to his ears when he said something that might’ve been a little off-color given your date taking place in what could be described as Laredo’s nicest restaurant.

You’d run the gamut of small talk. Things that were absolutely asinine given the fact that he’d already been inside you. How was the muñequita doing? How was work? What’d you study in school? You figured driving your fork into your eyeballs would’ve been less painful. The wine he ordered hadn’t helped either. And just when you started to think there wasn’t anything here other than a sexual connection between you, the waiter dropped an unexpected dessert on the table between you. A small piece of chocolate cake, garnished with fudge and raspberries. You didn’t know it at the time, but that cake was your saving grace. Whether it was the chocolate, the raspberries, the fact that it was a giant plate of aphrodisiacs, or if Javi just got it in his head that what was happening was ridiculous, he finally spoke up.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

You choked on a raspberry and looked up at him. It wasn’t accusatory. More of just a statement acutely aware of the situation. And it lifted a massive weight off your shoulders and chest. “It’s weird, right?”

He shoved another forkful of cake into his mouth, “we’re so good at fucking, how can we be so bad at this?”

“We should be good at this!”

“We should be great at this!” He agreed, setting his fork down on the plate, effectively leaving the rest to you.

“So make it better,”

And that made Javi smile. The smile you were used to seeing. The one that was way too charming for his own good. Way too charming for your own good. He reached out across the table, palm upright. It struck you as odd that despite having gone through the entire meal, this was the first time he was making an effort at physical contact. Feeling like this might be the last thing you both needed to be at complete ease, you wasted no time in resting your hand in his, fingers intertwining and squeezing together.

“Maybe we should actually get to know each other. I mean, about things other than what gets you off,” he smirked and you sensed the real, true Javi coming back to you. “What’s your story? No one chooses Laredo just because,”

You nodded and set your fork down, buying yourself a little bit of time. You knew this story would require you to bring up your daughter’s father, but you also knew that if you expected him to be forthcoming with the questions you were bound to ask, you’d need to give him something. Like this.

“My ex, but then boyfriend, got a job in town and I thought we were in love. Because I’m an idiot. So I followed him out here. And about three months later, I’m knocked up, trying to get him to not be an asshole and failing. And the muñequita, as you like to call her, was about a month old when a judge told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t enough to raise a child. That she would do best in proximity to her father. What that judge knew and didn’t care to take into consideration with his final decision, was that her father’s not actually a good person. While he hasn’t ever laid a hand on her, the same can’t be said for his hands on me.” As the words came out of your mouth, they sounded so foreign to you. They were said with such little emotion. So matter of fact. You’d already cried all the tears you had to offer. They hadn’t done you any good back then and they wouldn’t do you any good now. “So I’m stuck in Laredo for a while. Until he proves to be even more of an asshole than he already is. Or until she turns eighteen.

“It’s not all that bad,” you smiled. “I mean it’s not great, but there are upsides. My mom moved from Corpus Christi to be closer and help. So I see her more now than I ever did in San Antonio. And I like my job, clerking. Probably would’ve never got the chance to do it in a bigger city. And honestly… I love your dad.”

“There’s no way my dad’s your plus to Laredo,” Javier grinned, a blush rising in his cheeks.

You giggled and nodded, wrapping your other hand around his so now it was fully encompassed in your grip. “He is. He’s the type of dad I wish I had. The type of dad I wish my daughter had,” you caught Javi’s glance and squeezed his hand. “You know he stands up for me when I’m at the bar? He stands up for all the girls, but I like to think he likes me most,”

“You’re certainly the only one he calls chiquita,”

“He’s a good man,”

Javi leaned back in his chair with a whistle through his teeth. “Then you’ll be glad to know you’re invited to his Thanksgiving barbecue this Saturday. And you don’t have the option to decline, unfortunately. Mostly because you declining means I have to do ranch work.”

“Back up. Explain, Peña,” you released his hand and grabbed your wine glass for a long sip. Chances were you weren’t drunk enough for this.

“He’s throwing a barbecue and insisted I bring the woman I’ve been seeing. Been wondering why I don’t go to the bar with him anymore. Never answer his calls on this weekends. Saw me all fixed up tonight before I went to pick you up. Figured I must shacked up with someone. So… I’m so glad you love him because you have to go,”

“You know I work weekends,”

“It’s during the day,”

You pursed your lips together, squinting as if weighing your options, “I’ll go if you answer one question,” you smirked. This was your moment to get the answer to the question you’d been asking him for months. “Why’d you leave Colombia?”

Javi’s eyes quickly averted back to the half-eaten dessert between you two. He cleared his throat and pressed his forearms on the table to drag himself more upright. Closer to you now, using it to be able to keep his voice low, lest nosy locals be around. He gave you more of an answer than you ever expected him to. He told you all about Pablo Escobar and the others that made up the Medellín cartel. He gave you details about the violence they were capable of. He explained the delicate spider web of egos that made up the DEA, cartel, and communist guerillas. And how any little fracture or splinter to the egos of the drug lords or communists meant that his life and the lives of other agents were at greater risk. And he gave you all of that explanation and backstory before he got to answering your question. About how he’d skirted around laws to rally the guerillas into an unrestrainable and unmanageable murderous vigilante group, Los Pepes. And then how he flat out ignored the laws and the ambassador. How Los Pepes was a little too good at their job. How he, and the DEA, and CIA knew he’d gotten in way too far over his head and one day they’d be coming after him. And suddenly the thing he’d worked years for – the thing they were so close to he could taste it – was stripped away from him. Catching Pablo Escobar would be someone else’s headline.

And you wanted to… cry for him. For the pain he’d endured, physically and otherwise. For the things he had to witness, whether he’d signed up for it or not. For all the things he’d worked so hard for in his career and would never get the chance to see through. You figured it was where he put all his love. All the genuine love and care that he hadn’t been able to give to a romantic partner, he’d given to his work.

So that’s why how ended up here. Walking up the drive to Chucho’s long, one story ranch house. One hand clutching Javi’s and the other holding that of your daughter’s. Bringing her along hadn’t been the original plan. Hadn’t even been in your wildest dreams until your mom called the afternoon before and said she was going back home, to Corpus Christi, to visit her sister who’d taken a fall. She didn’t want to leave you in a bind… didn’t want you to have to rely on your baby daddy more… but she had to go. And you knew you were already going to have to pawn her off on her dad tonight while you were at The Tack Room, so wanting to limit her time with him as much as possible, you asked Javi if she could come along. Actually, you sprung it on him as he was standing at your front door. Pouted your lips and batted your biggest, saddest eyes at him, hoping it’d be enough to convince him. What you didn’t know was that he didn't need to be convinced. All you had to do was say the word and you’d get whatever you wanted. No questions asked.

Javier wondered what his dad would say when he saw you walk into the backyard with him. And what he’d think about your daughter tagging along. Figured he’d get a good laugh out of it. Out of his son being father-like. Gentle to a little girl that wasn’t his. Javier hoped part of his dad would be proud. He’d prepared himself that this would be your launch to his dad and a few of his friends. What he hadn’t been prepared for was that it’d be your launch to practically everyone in the neighborhood. He heard the Spanish music first; so loud on the radio that he figured the speakers were straining beneath the reverberation. Beneath the guitar and lyrics was the hum of chatter of the neighbors. Some he could point out definitively as he opened up the side gate and escorted you and the muñequita into the yard. Miss Rosalia and her uninhibited, thundering laugh. She was almost as old as Chucho and had spent many nights in her younger years watching over Javi until he was old enough to look after himself. Pancho’s grandkids – Lily and Jason – their high pitched squeals of delight. Which meant their parents, Pancho’s daughter Maria and her gringo husband Michael were surely around too. Yet through all the noise and the mass of people in the yard, Javier found the sight of his father at first glance. On the patio, cowboy hat low on his head, glasses even lower down the bridge of his nose, popping the caps off a couple Modelos.

It was like they were magnets attuned to each other because no sooner than you followed Javi’s gaze toward his father, you found that Chucho was already looking back at the both of you. And before you knew it, Javi was tugging your hand forward, taking you in tow with him. Weaving through the partygoers, you garnered looks from the majority of them… mostly the women, whose eyes seemed to flick between you and Javier and back. As if attempting to figure out what made you so special. And what they didn’t know was that it wasn’t Javi that made you special. It was his father.

“Hola chiquita,”

A beam broke out over your face, “hola Chucho,”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then affectionately, looked down. “Quién es este?”

You looked down at your daughter and mentioned her name. Over your shoulder, you could feel Javier’s eyes on her, too.

Chucho smiled and tilted his hat back, away from his face as he crouched down with a gentle smile, “hola chiquitita,” he held his hand out to her and she shook it.

“Javi calls her muñequita,”

On instinct, Chucho’s eyes flicked back up to his son, “does he now?” And finding Javier’s sheepish expression more than prize enough, Chucho looked back down in front of him, “muñequita, do you want some lemonade?” Off her eager nod, he nodded his head off to the side, “vamos.”

Once you were left alone with Javi again, you looked up at him. His expression still harboring the pink hue of embarrassment. You curled yourself into his side, practically forcing his arm to wrap around you while you set a hand on his stomach. He looked down at you and squeezed your shoulder.

“Good?” He murmured.

“We’re getting a lot of looks,” you let your eyes drift over the crowd only momentarily. Then back up at him.

“Let ‘em look, querida,” he hummed, lowering himself down to crowd your space. And with lips hovering over yours, “let’s make ‘em jealous.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Javier kept his hand tightly clutched around the muñequita’s as he helped her climb over the two by four protruding from the ground and leading into the chicken coop. She was a little unsteady and gripping his hand nearly as tight as he was gripping hers.

“Careful,” he cautioned softly, “the chicken wire is sharp.”

She looked at her other hand, the one clutched around the hexagonal openings in the wired door. After taking a moment to process, she uncurled her fingers from it and held it out to the side for balance. Javi shut the door behind them once they were in, and he knelt down to fit inside the enclosure.

“Chickies!” the muñequita shrieked at the top of her lungs. To Javier’s surprise, she didn’t seem scared of them at all despite their erratic motion. “This a boy?”

He followed the direction of her pointed finger – to a large, speckled chicken pecking at the ground. He rested a forearm over his bent knee, settling his other hand on his opposite thigh. “These are all girls. You have to keep the boys and the girls separate,”

Only half-paying attention, she reached out to touch it, only to become startled when it flapped its wings. The whooshing sent her hair blowing back and she ran back to Javi, tucking herself into him. Her back pressed up against his chest and her tiny hands on his knee. “Why?”

“‘Cause they’ll…” he stopped himself and curled his arm around her protectively when another of the chickens let out an ear-piercing string of clucks. “Sometimes the boys annoy the girls,”

From your vantage point at one of the tables on the patio, you watched the whole thing unfold in the chicken coop. The way he remained attentive to her the entire time. To how she ran to him after being frightened. And how he went to shield her from harm. Originally you’d thought the hardest thing about today would be dodging all the bitter glances from the women. Turned out the hardest thing about today was fighting the feeling of love that was growing inside you.

And then Chucho appeared beside you, taking a seat and sliding a plate of food over to you. He followed your gaze out to the chicken coop and took a sip from his beer bottle. “He’s good with her,”

You felt your face grow warmer and you decided to cover it up by reaching forward to dip a tortilla chip into some homemade guacamole. “She really likes him,” then pushing the chip into your mouth, “but what’s not to like? You raised a good boy,”

“He’s an asshole,” Chucho grinned. It made you giggle, too. “When did this start up?”

To even your surprise, you told him the absolute truth. Minus all the juicy details about the sex life you shared with his son. But about the day you first met him. And how he’d come visit you at The Tack Room as long as his dad wasn’t there. Chucho scoffed at that. But he softened again when you recounted your first actual date with Javi, and how he’d finally managed to open up about Colombia. As you ended the explanation, you started to feel sort of odd about opening up to him in this way not even knowing how much his own son had told him. Apparently not much.

“He’s treatin’ you well?” Chucho’s gaze drifted back to the chicken coop, where Javi was exiting, this time holding the muñequita. His forearm beneath her legs and her arms around his neck. “I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t,”

“I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t,”

A fleeting smile passed over Chucho’s face. Now Javi was on his way back to the patio. “This ain’t a knock against my son. Javier does his best. But you protect yourself… your heart, I mean. ‘Cause my son’s been known to break ‘em.” Chucho stood up, “got a mind of his own, that one. And sometimes it don’t work too good,”

It was then you looked back up at Javier just as he was setting your daughter down on her feet. She was squirming in his arms, anxious to be set free as Pancho’s grandkids came up and asked if she wanted to play tag with them. Could that be the same man Chucho was warning you about? In the back of your mind you knew it was. Women throughout Laredo could testify to it. But when he fell back in step toward the patio and caught your gaze, the smile that erupted over his face made you think that it was different now. Then it made you think that you were foolish. Who were you to change a man’s behavior? Shit. You hadn’t even able to get your ex to become decent enough to help pay for his kid.

There was no hidden agenda to your next move. No secret plan to get him alone. Just the discomfort rising in your throat that he might catch on that you were back in your head again. And god forbid you both endure any amount of returned awkwardness like that of the date. So you gathered the empty beer bottles and plastic plates on the table; using the skills practiced to perfection from work, and carried on in through the back door to dispose of them. Perhaps you should’ve asked Chucho, or even Javi, before entering the house. No one had asked you to do so, and you wondered if it was off limits as you carried on into the kitchen. Just outside the window by the sink, you could see the party carrying on, oblivious to your new absence.

But the back door reopened and you looked up at the newcomer, ready to apologize for intruding. But you quickly found it was only Javier. He rounded the counter to approach you; a cheeky grin on his face that he’d finally done it. He’d gotten you alone. And that smile… it got you thinking again that it was different.

“You come to help me tidy up?” You give a smirk of your own knowing fully well he hadn’t. That was surely the last thing on his mind. Proven by the way he slid up behind your and wrapped his arms around your waist; hands wrapping around you and pulling you back into his body. Your ass brushed along the outline of his cock and it had you turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him. A disapproving shake of the head. “Javi,”

He tucked his face into your neck and kissed it, grazing his teeth gently across your skin. His hands squeezed your hips, holding you tighter to his body despite your futile opposition. Opposition which ultimately looked like you tilting your head to the side to allow him more space with your neck.

“What if your dad comes in?” Your eyes drifted shut. As if the question would make it come true, you didn’t want to bear witness to it.

“Why would he come in?”

“‘Cause it’s his–”

He cut you off by sliding one of his hands down from your hip and undid the button of your jeans with a quick flick of his fingers. And his hand was beneath the denim before you’d even had a chance to protest. Deft fingers curled along the cotton fabric of your underwear. Just a whisper of a touch over your clit. You thought about resting your head back on Javi’s shoulder, but just before you could, he bumped his chest against your back to get your attention.

“Look,” he commanded and waited a second to give you time to obey him. Which you did on impulse. Javi had leaned forward, his cheek close to yours, both looking out over the bay window behind the kitchen sink, overlooking the backyard. “Anyone could see us right now,” he whispered and nudged your underwear to the side, giving him just enough space for his fingers to resume their ministrations. You knew what he’d feel; knew that he’d soon become aware that you’d spent the better half of the barbecue uncomfortably shifting your thighs together, trying to ignore the fact that watching him with your kin was making you inexplicably aroused. That watching him play with her and hold her and bond with her was more than any man had done, including her own father.

“Oh you like that, huh?” There was a low growl to his voice, “you like that we could get caught.”

Sure, you thought. Let’s go with that. That was the least frightening of the options. Because having to admit to Javier that it wasn’t the idea of getting caught, but the idea of him being a dad to your child that was making you wet seemed far too vulnerable for your current position.

His fingers followed your slit from your clit to your entrance and pressed inside you without hesitation. A slow, lingering gasp left your parted lips and you melted back into Javi’s body, using him as the sole form of support in keeping you upright. His lips met your jawline and you could swear you felt them pull into a smile when your anatomy clenched around his fingers.

You shifted your body down on his fingers, “Javi,”

He grinned wider, a shit-eating one he knew you would’ve slapped off his face had you seen it, “I know, querida.” His fingers thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

You could feel yourself there on the edge having had more than enough time for the anticipation to build throughout the day. Ready to fall in any capacity he would allow you to. Whether that just meant here, in Chucho’s kitchen, muffled by the obscene sounds his fingers were making inside you. Or if it meant being able to say the words that were right there at the tip of your tongue.

“Javi?”

Your eyes flashed open at the sound of Chucho’s voice. Through the kitchen window, you could see he was still out in the yard, not quite at the patio but making his way there. Beginning to strain in Javier’s arms, he moved the hand at your waist and cupped it around your neck.

“Peña,” you tugged at his wrist but it was a fruitless effort.

“Javier?” Chucho called again, stepping into the shade of the patio awning, into full view of the kitchen window.

Javi kept his eyes glued to you. His hand gained a tighter grip around your neck, and his fingers thrust up into you to the last knuckle “come for me.”

“Javi,” you moaned and hated the way it came out like it did. You wanted to be strong. Be firm and protest. And yet…

Javier curled his fingers inside you, against the spongy front wall of your wall, “come,” he growled into your ear, lips pressed against the soft skin there.

If there had been an ounce of willpower within you, you would’ve stopped yourself. Pulled yourself together and shook yourself out of his grasp. But there was no willpower. No way to keep yourself afloat. He commanded and you obeyed. Legs shook until your knees gave out and Javi ws forced to release your neck so he could wrap that strong arm around your waist and keep you on your feet. You came over his fingers and felt it drip down the inside of your thighs. And it hadn’t ended the way you would’ve hoped. No moment of calmness to gather yourself back together. No gentle kiss or a good girl. Just Javi pulling his fingers out of you and removing his hand from your pants. He licked one clean and then wiped them dry on the back of his jeans, already making his way back to the door to intercept his dad.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

You ran up the walkway to your front door, keys in hand, keenly aware that Javi was coming up the path behind you, the muñequita cradled in his arms. She had fallen asleep on the drive over but could hear her grumbling behind you, being awoken. By the sound of it, she was less than happy about it, despite Javier trying to soothe her, and you knew you’d have a hell of a time trying to get her back out of the house and to her dad’s before your shift started.

Flying through the front door and leaving it open behind you, you ran down the hallway and into your bedroom to get changed. The jeans from earlier would suffice, and after slipping into the white tank top that made up your “uniform”, you ran back down the hallway. “Javi, can you help her get her shoes back on? The slip-on ones by the door are fine!”

You ran into the kitchen and rummaged through it for something quick and easy she could snack on for when she woke up inevitably starving and throwing a fit. Some string cheese, applesauce, a juice box… and then you ran back toward the front door and came to a skidding halt when you passed by the living room and saw absolutely no progress being made.

Progress was the furthest thing from happening. To call this progress would’ve been more than generous. What it was, was Javi sat back on the couch, reclined deep in the seat at an almost unnatural position. The muñequita on her side on top of him; cheek squished to his chest, her knees curled up and her feet settling in his lap. She was already back asleep and looked… absolutely peaceful.

“Javi,” you protested, coming into the room and reaching for her.

But Javier lifted his arms and wrapped them around her protectively, shielding her from disruption.

“I have to go to work,”

“I know, but look… she’s comfortable,” he patted his hand down against her back softly.

“I have to drop her off with her dad,” you reached for her again, and this time Javi shifted his entire body. “Peña, come on, I’m gonna be late.”

And then the words came out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure where they had come from. You didn’t know either. And he wondered if he was crossing a boundary. “I can watch her,” he met your eyes and to both of your surprise, he looked genuine. “She’s had a long day. It’s easier if she stays here.” And then off your movement of putting your hands on your hips and cocking your head to the side, “I’ll make her dinner when she wakes up. Get her ready for bed,”

“Javi,”

“I can take care of her,” he insisted. “Trust me?”

Though you hadn’t been given many reasons to trust men in the past, you did undeniably trust him. You’d come to know that what he told you the day he met you, was true. I’m the best thing that could’ve walked into your daughter’s life. So you rounded to the side of the couch and bent forward. A chaste kiss to the lips while he held your reason for living was proof enough that you trusted him. You knew that there was probably no place in the world she was safer than with DEA Agent, Javier Peña.

As you carried on to The Tack Room, you wondered if you’d ever hear about what went on while you were away. You wondered how Javi would answer you when you asked how it went. You figured he’d downplay it. Say it was fine. Everything went great. That the muñequita was a perfect angel. You doubted you’d ever hear about the minutiae that made up the hours they had together.

You’d never actually hear about how she did indeed wake up with a fury and a hungry stomach. And the way Javi cut up an apple and scooped some peanut butter into a small bowl for her. Or how he rummaged through the cabinets until he came upon a box of Kraft macaroni. You’d never hear about how they sat side by side at the kitchen table, hunched over their own bowls, and devoured the unnaturally orange pasta. He’d never tell you about how he helped her pick out her pajamas and then waited in the hallway outside her door until she got herself changed. How when she called him back, he found that she’d put her shirt on backwards, and how they’d created a game to get her to slip her arms out of the sleeves and spin the top around until it faced the right way without having to take it off. And surely he’d go to the grave about how she batted those pretty please eyelashes at him – the same ones you gave him when you asked him to get the Halloween decorations from the attic – and finagled her way into staying up past her bedtime in order to play Pretty, Pretty Princess. How he let her adorn him with plastic necklaces and rings. And even plastic, clip-on earrings. But of course she won and was the only one to get the bejeweled crown. He’d also never admit how late it was by the time he finally got her to go back to sleep. How he’d kind of bribed her with some chocolate chip cookies, or how he sat on the floor by her bed and patted her back for far longer than was probably necessary before she drifted off to sleep and he was able to tiptoe out of her room. He’d never admit that because it was a little more than an hour before you were unlocking the front door and slipping back inside after your shift.

The TV was on. The news. For some reason, you didn’t think Javier was one to watch the news. His head rested on his fist, feet up on the coffee table. He was awake but his blinks were getting longer and longer. When he finally noticed you in the threshold, he sparked up and lifted his head. Lowered his feet to the ground as if you finding them on the coffee table would make you think he’d made himself too comfortable.

“Querida,” he smiled and stood from the couch, making a quick move toward you.

“The house didn’t burn down,” you mocked lightly and wrapped your arms around him when he came into your space. His lips met yours quickly before trailing down to your jaw and neck. His laugh was muffled by his mouth being pressed to your skin. You lifted one hand up to the back of his head and stroked your fingers through his hair. “How’d it go?”

“Easy,” he lifted his head and smiled, “she’s a good kid.”

You smiled and brought your hand up to his mouth, trailing your index finger over his bottom lip. “I didn’t thank you before,”

“You don’t need to th–”

Before he could finish, you fully cupped your hand over his mouth to get him to stop speaking. “No I do, because not having to leave her with her dad tonight lifted a tremendous weight off my shoulders.” You removed your palm from his mouth and hooked your arms over his shoulders. “And I love” you noted how Javi’s eyes seemed to widen a bit at the use of the word, “that she feels safe with you.”

“I just–”

You pressed your index finger to his lips again to stop him. “Shh, nope. Just… take that, and…” you took a deep breath in. A new smile spread across your lips, “I’d really like to give you a blowjob now, so we should go do that.”

“Whatever you say, querida.”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

“This mouth,” Javier groaned, staring down at you, knelt over on the mattress while he stood beside the bed. He lowered a hand to your cheek and brushed the backs of his fingers over it. Meanwhile, your mouth was giving a valiant effort at making him come undone. “I love this mouth,”

A hum floated out of your lungs and up past your vocal chords. Lips that had been brought up to the head of his cock, wrapped tightly around the crown, pressed forth once again until your nose brushed against his waist. Judging by the breath that choked in Javi’s throat, you knew he wasn’t lying. His hand migrated from your cheek to the back of your head, where he gathered your hair into a ponytail and held it away for your face. For more of a better view of the thing he knew would be his undoing.

With the leverage of the ponytail, he guided your mouth along his shaft. The power out of your hands, you hollowed your cheeks and closed your eyes, completely focused on the pressure you applied to his member with your lips and tongue. Forced yourself to swallow back the gagging that nearly consumed you when he pushed himself down your throat. And when you re-opened your eyes, blinking back tears, the fondness you found within Javier’s gaze was something new. If your mouth hadn’t been full, maybe you would’ve mentioned something about it to him. Asked him where this new perceived fondness was coming from. It couldn’t have been the blowjob. You’d given him plenty before. And perhaps even more enthusiastic head before. But something about this in this moment warranted a new look from him and you weren’t given the time to ponder it. To try and get to the bottom of it.

After you noticed the look, Javier was easing your mouth off of him; relishing in the way your lips tried to hold onto him tighter. To keep him in your mouth. But he was stronger, and no sooner than he was freed from your mouth, he bent over and pressed a kiss to your lips. His tongue pushed into your mouth without hesitation. There were things you wanted to voice and bring light to. Things on the tip of your tongue that you thought might be worth throwing caution to the wind. Things you were sure would be met and reciprocated and yet…

“Peña,” you murmured in between kisses and felt his lips tighten into a smile against yours.

He backed away from you, a coy smirk on his face, “what, querida?”

“Do you like me?”

Javier rolled his eyes, affixed his hands to your shoulders and pushed you around until you relented and continued on with his gesture. His tongue darted out over his lips when you’d finished the motion, now finding your ass toward him. “No, I hate you,”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back over your shoulder, but Javi just grinned harder and pressed his hand on your upper back, pushing you down to the bed. “I’m serious, Javi,”

“Me too,” he ran his fingers over your entrance once before placing them on his shaft and notching himself at your core.

You opened your mouth again to protest but he pressed in, bottoming out in one fell swoop that your protest came in the way of a needy moan. Your fists closed around the bedsheets. His girth stretching you out almost uncomfortably, had it not been for the way he also bent over you. His knees now pressed on the mattress, his chest against your back, and his lips at your ear. Kisses trailed from your earlobe down to your neck and shoulder. Powerful thrusts left you gasping for air.

“Hate that you got me wrapped ‘round your finger,” he mumbled against your skin, teeth nipping at any flesh they could. He pushed himself in rougher, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. “Hate that you know it,”

“Got’cha,”

Javi quickly pulled out of you and pressed on your hip until you rolled over onto your back. Staring up at him once again, you noticed that look of fondness hadn’t left his face. Whatever he might be saying about the “hate”, it didn’t live in his soul. Hell, it barely even lived in the words. He eased back into you, gentler this time, looking right in your eyes, taking it all in. Wholly focused on the way your jaw fell slack when he pressed into you to the hilt again. He brought his hand to your open mouth and dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. Soon replaced it with his lips for a kiss; slow, passionate, tender. And his hips followed suit. Thrusts much slower but not any less deep or forceful. He kept you connected for as long as possible.

“What the fuck are you doin’ to me?” He whispered.

You let out an airy moan and followed it up with another smirk, “making you come.”

He shook his head. His languid movements now made for the perfect position for his member to rub against your gspot, and his waist where you were connected rubbed against your clit. “What’re you doing to me in here,” he pressed his index finger to his forehead. Your smile faded for something else when he moved that finger down to his chest, “and here.”

You pouted your lips and furrowed your eyebrows, trying not to let that get you too emotional. He’d only half-expressed what you thought he wanted to. What you wanted to. But staring him in the eyes wasn’t doing much for your composure. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him forward, you kissed him again and hoped it would get you back in this moment – this sexual moment – without the threat of love dipping off your tongue.

The kisses were endless. Whether it was to your lips, jaw, neck, or chest, Javi didn’t let a moment go by without his lips adorning your skin with some form of attention. And when you both came – one after the another, but you first – you held onto him tightly. Fingernails digging into his shoulder blades and scratching downward. If you couldn’t say the words to make him yours, you’d certainly leave a mark to do so.

“Shit,” Javi grumbled, feeling himself throb inside you.

You smiled to yourself and scritched your fingers through his hair. The stickiness between your legs increased as he pulled out of you and your shared spend dripped out of your core. Once he was completely unsheathed from you, Javi rolled over onto his side and stretched over to reach the nightstand. There was something endearing that he knew the drill: finish the nightly conquest. Document it with a photograph.

The camera was in your hand in the same moment you’d repositioned yourself along the pillows. Comfortably stretching yourself out, you knew there was a finite amount of time until you had to run to the bathroom. But Javi took the drill and altered it. Usually the night ended with both of you trading off, taking pictures of each other. But this time, Javi curled into your side, wrapped his arm over your hips, and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“Javi, I have to get up to take it,” you tilted your head toward his in an effort to shrink away from him. But he only held on tighter. His grip around your hips more possessive. A playful nip landed at your jugular.

“Take it like this,”

There it was. The words at the tip of your tongue again. Love. Love. Love. You turned the camera around; lens facing you. For the first time both Javi’s and your face in frame. Together. No chance at hiding identities. Your finger froze at the top of the camera. Perhaps to give him one last chance to change his mind. To come to his senses and tell you to wait… that he’d get up and take a picture of you first. But an interjection didn’t come. He didn’t try to stop you. His thumb rubbed back and forth over your hip bone. His lips stayed planted to your neck. While you faced the camera full frontal, only Javi’s profile was visible. But what a profile it was – the strong, curved nose, the sharp jawline…

You snapped the picture and freed it from the camera after it printed. Javi took the camera from you again and set it back down on the nightstand before returning to the spot he had previously been in. A soft woosh woosh woosh filled the space between as you shook the photo. Slowly the gray square turned to color and brought forth the image. The first of its kind. Javi turned his head away from your neck in order to look at it. A quick smile passed his lips.

“That’s a pretty picture of you,”

You cringed at the photo and slapped it down on your chest to hide it. “I hate my neck,”

Javi furrowed his eyebrows, “what’re you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist to sneak a glance at the picture again. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you were seeing in the photo to make such a comment. “I love your neck,” he leaned back in and bit your neck. This time a little harder than before.

And it made you shriek. A delighted, high pitched thing that nearly made you forget the qualm you’d had with the picture in the first place.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena smut #javier pena angst #javier pena fluff #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier pena fic #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #fountain of sorrow #fos

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sacredcyber · 11 months

Text

I Think I Like When It Rains

A soft smutty SilverV oneshot, 3k words. A/n: fem V from a corpo background, nsfw.

The long trek towards her northside apartment was unusually silent and painfully dull. Normally Johnny's comments would be firing at a rapid pace. When can they start looking for Alt? Let him take control just for an evening, take a smoke break. Instead she found herself walking through night city alone, in the rain, shooting off random questions hoping it’d rouse him from whatever recess of her mind he’d hidden himself in. Nothing. No answers at all, not even a huff of frustration.

‘It’s fine.’ She thinks to herself. ‘It’ll be like that when he’s gone.’ And that thought brings out a burn in her throat. Something pained and sharp has burrowed itself in her chest and made itself home. V stops short at the corner about a block away, she leans against a light post and sighs.

‘You’re being weird again.’

It’s her voice but it’s not. The sudden realization dawns on her that Johnny could read her thoughts. It makes her feel exposed. She quickly runs the block home in the downpour, the rain soaking through her too big tank top and leather pants.

After fidgeting with the broken card reader, V stumbles inside her small apartment. The pink neon lighting and blue beaded curtains make it feel so homey, so lived in. She remembered the day she bought it, Johnny berated her about her lack of taste. V wanted to tell him about her luxury condo she had to give up when she got sacked, but a sudden wave of shame had washed over her and she simply answered with a small hum in agreement. Arasaka seems like a lifetime ago. Another life, another person, another V. Her Watson home was too painful to stay in after Jackie died, the memories of the both of them shooting the shit, Misty coming by after her shift with tacos and yakitori were all things of the past. The northside apartment had become like a sanctuary, she could be at peace here in this small shoebox of a room.

Just her, Nibbles and her tapeworm.

As she crosses the threshold, a friendly meow greets her. Nibbles jumps off the arcade cabinet and rolls on her back exposing her equally bald tummy. V chuckles and closes the door behind her, as she bends down to bless the feline with a generous scratch behind her ears, she can hear the familiar sound of Johnny’s static reappearing.

He groans and makes his way over towards the armory. V pretends not to notice him, not to be excited he’s left whatever shell he was in earlier. Instead she fishes out a pack of cat food for nibbles and walks over towards a small porcelain bowl.

Johnny immediately moves away and heads over to the bed, she watches him out of the corner of her eye. He’s a bit tense, wound up. As if he could sense her questioning gaze he simply lights up a cigarette. “I’m tired.”

“You’re tired?” V asks incredulously. Johnny’s static form stutters a bit as he shifts himself onto her small bed. “Well actually you’re tired. I’m just feeling it too.” He mumbles. V makes a face, this fucking guy. “I thought engrams don’t need to sleep?” She stands and walks over towards him, his legs planted firmly on the linoleum floor. A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “You really gonna fight me over this? Fuck V...” The bite he normally has in his voice is mostly gone, Johnny sounds exhausted, miserable. She sighs, the day's events hadn’t been easy on them, the sudden rainstorm plus the non working fast travel pods around the city only added to her frustration. If only her car wasn’t in the shop, she could have just driven home.

Nope, it was just her trudging through the rain. Now she’s home, dripping wet and muscles aching. V sighs, there’s no fight in her, hell she’s not even hungry. All she wants is a hot shower and sleep. “You can sleep with me tonight.” She mumbles. Johnny looks up as V begins to turn away, “ I know you don’t need to but…”

“But what?” He asks, ready to tease her. “Someone’s eager to get me into bed.” He observes her as she slips her boots off.

“You seem…I don’t know…off? Quiet maybe.” She says before disappearing into the bathroom. Johnny scoffs, before he knows it he’s in the bathroom ready to argue.

“As if I-“ he begins before he stops himself. V stands topless in front of the shower, her wet samurai top already on the ground, her hands on her pants zipper. She raises an eyebrow. “What? Never seen tits before?” She turns around and begins to remove her pants, Johnny knows he should fuck off right now, give her some kind of privacy. But something’s compelling him to stay, see what happens, V doesn’t seem to mind it.

“Wasn’t expecting to see yours.” He chuckles. “Didn’t know my little corpo rat was an exhibitionist is all.” V turns the shower on trying not to focus on the “my little corpo rat” comment, he notices the way her breasts jiggle a bit, they’re bigger than he’s used to, Johnnys always had a penchant for petite women, V’s musculature had been a bit of a turn off for him, recently he’s been rethinking that.

She turns to face him and something in Johnny’s chest tightens. She’s bare, with nothing but his tags on. Something about that does it for him, maybe it’s her lack of aggression or just how intimate it feels. “Not gonna take those off too?” He lifts his cybernetic hand and places his fingertip onto the tag, V can feel slight pressure there. She cocks her head a bit, “I’ve never taken them off.” She says following his wandering hand as it travels from the tags to her navel. She can feel him and she doesn’t know how or why, but she doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t want to ruin it.

V makes a motion with her hand, “You coming in?” Johnny is a bit stunned, he’s not used to V being so nonchalant about contact. Normally she’s very cagey about him being near her. He doesn’t blame her, especially since their meeting was terrible. He’s conflicted, but the need for touch is overwhelming. “You want me to?” He asks, hesitation sprinkles his words. V nods. ‘Yes’ she thinks and so he follows.

V stands under the hot shower, the steam feels so comforting, like a warm blanket hugging her. As she stretches she can feel her back bump into something solid. As she reaches back Johnny catches her hand, his ganic hand gently caresses hers. She hesitates but turns to face him, he’s there naked as the day he was born, only with the addition of that familiar blue static. She studies him, he’s definitely handsome, not that she wanted to admit that but something about his little grin tells her he already knows that. Her eyes wander from his dark brown eyes to his sloped nose down to his happy trail, she lifts her head to face him, not wanting to focus on the obvious.

“You look like you got questions.” He murmurs. V looks for her shampoo. “Can you feel the water?” He nods. “Yeah, feels nice, I guess it feels nice to you.” He moves to stand under the shower head, it merely goes through him but V supposes it adds to the experience.

She grabs the coconut shampoo and begins to work up a lather. Her back is towards him, “Where did you go?” She asked. Johnny notices a slight hitch in her voice, he watches as she scrubs her scalp. He steps in and replaces her hands with his, lightly massaging the product into her hair. “Can’t exactly go anywhere…” he avoids the question. V steps under the shower head, her back pressed against Johnny's chest. He watches as the shampoo runs over her breasts down her toned stomach. His hands move from her scalp to the sides of her waist, before he grabs her and presses her firmly against him, his mouth pressed against her ear.

V presses harder against him, he feels so real, so solid against her skin. The only difference is the lingering fuzziness he gives off, maybe it’s the static. “You…didn’t answer my question.” She manages to mumble out, Johnny simply hums “I’m here now.” His metal hand traces down from her collarbone in between her breasts. V wants to prod him, demand he tell her why he left her alone with her thoughts but his touches are so reverent, so gentle.

“I was angry.”

She turns to face him, Johnny’s brown eyes scan her face, he looks vulnerable, soft, uncomfortable. She grabs his ganic hand and presses her face against it, his thumb strokes her cheek. “Did I do something?” He simply shakes his head, everything pisses Johnny off to some extent. The shitty weather, his PTSD, the way Fuckin’ Takemura and River give her those looks when she’s not paying attention. V used to piss him off too, her selflessness, the way she’d always get involved in shit that didn’t concern her, her kindness. Her ability to just give parts of herself to anyone in need.

Now he’s before her, a starved man seeking it out for himself. He hesitates and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. V slowly allows herself to be soft, to be open for him. Love isn’t something you come across in Night City, it’s something you buy for an hour or two. But this isn’t that, this is something else, something that’s needed by both of them.

His kisses are rough, they’re desperate for dominance, to lay a claim on her. She can feel how needy he is, the way his hands press into her bruised back, how his fingers find those sore spots and rub into them. V lets out small pained cries, as she opens her mouth Johnny simply probes deeper. He wants all her sounds and cries, all of them. The good and the bad.

“V…” he whispers, her bitten lips skimming over his down to his neck, she bites into him like forbidden fruit and such as original sin she knows she’s crossed over into temptation. That pained thing that burrowed into her earlier is now growing between her ribs and it flutters so gently she can barely breathe.

How strange.

Johnny grabs V’s face and pulls it to meet his gaze. He wants to see her, needs to see her face when he’s worshiping her. Her eyes are hazed over, glazed in want and desperate for release. He plants more swollen kisses on her lips. “Let’s go to bed.” He whispers hungrily. V turns off the shower and grabs a towel. “Let’s go to bed?” She begins to towel herself off. Johnny simply grins and reappears sitting on the bed, he can see her though the beaded curtains and even though he’s mapped out her curves and scars with his fingers it’s still exciting to see only bits of her behind the blue plastic beads. Like a private show meant only for him, something no one else can have.

Because how could they? No one knows her like he does, no one ever could.

V emerges from the bathroom, her hips sway a bit as she closes in on Johnny’s personal space. “Sit on the bed.” He whispers in that whiskey’d tone. She does as instructed and immediately he appears on the floor in front of her, kneeling. Johnny’s not used to being subservient, but it feels so natural with V, so easy. Like he doesn’t have to be that “rowdy asshole rockerboy” everyone wanted. He’s simply Johnny, touch starved, pent up, needy Johnny.

He slowly trails his fingers over V’s thighs, it makes her shiver under his touch. “Know how frustrating it is watching you play nice with a pig and a corpo dog?” His tone is dangerous with a veneer of playfulness. V raises herself up on her elbows, she watches as Johnny kneads her inner thighs.

“Has Johnny Silverhand always been the jealous type?”

He chuckles, “Possessive might be the better word.” He spreads her legs out further and places a wet kiss on her clit. Her hips buck into his face a bit. “Fuck…” she gasps out. Johnny chuckles “Not yet, I wanna have some fun first.”

His ganic fingers circle her entrance, she’s already wet and dewy but he’s never been one to half ass eating someone out. He doesn’t want to rush anything. “Thinkin’ real hard down there, silverhand?” V’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Her half lidded stare and the way she runs her fingers through his tangled hair makes him feel alive again.

“I need you to ride my face.” Before V can protest or tease, Johnny’s already teleported under her. He’s taken the liberty to spread her legs as she precariously balances over his face. She holds on to the wall in front of her. “I-I’ve never done thi-“ Johnny licks a swipe over her clit and she shudders.

“Just relax.” He says as plants a tender kiss on her entrance. “Don’t think, just do.” He presses her wet cunt onto his lips as he moves her hips in rhythm. V holds onto the wall in front of her trying to set a pace for herself, worried she might hurt him.

‘You won’t, trust me. Ride my fuckin face like a cowgirl.’

Before she can even ask what the hell that means, his tongue makes its way inside her. “Oh fuck yes…” she moans as her hips move against him, her clit brushing up against his nose and moustache. Johnny holds her down even tighter against his face, sucking and tongue fucking his way through his host. He wants to make her see stars, to become so undone by his mouth alone that even after death, she’s ruined by him.

“Johnny…john- I’m gonna…” her hips swivel in that familiar way, her pussy tightens around his tongue, she’s looking for it, searching for release. He removes his tongue and replaces it with his fingers relentlessly pounding into her. “Come on V just let it go baby…” he holds her hips and presses his lips onto her stomach as she fucks herself above him. “Goddamn…fuck yes yessss…” she sighs as her climax washes over her.

V wobbles a bit as her legs give out on her. Thankfully Johnny teleports and reappears to help steady herself. She’s on the precipice of sleep, yet it doesn’t stop her from trying to crawl into his lap. He laughs a bit “what are you doin’?” V presses up against him, his cock nestled between her puffy lips.

“I wanna sleep on you like this.” She moves her hips and positions his cock at her entrance. Johnny watches as V slides herself on his thick cock, his girth makes it sting so deliciously. Johnny grins and lays back in bed with V content and filled on his chest. He spreads her legs out over him and slowly fucks into her. He throbs with each stroke.

“This how you want me inside you every night?” He asks, his lips hovering over her ear as he caresses her sore lower back with his metal hand. “Get home from running around this city? Fixing everyone’s fuckin’ problems…” He whispers in her ear as he continues to slowly pump himself inside her. Agonizingly slow.

“That’s what you want right? You want someone to take care of you too.” He grips her hips and plunges himself deep into her core. V calls out for him, begging him to go faster but he relents. “Nah, I wanna savor this, wanna make sure it only fits me from now on.” He bites her harshly and with intent. Savoring the wet sounds they share between them.

“How do you think people would feel? Knowin’ Night City’s golden girl is getting dicked down by the dirty old man living in her head?” He punctuates his question with another harsh thrust. V mewls against him and sobs “t-they wouldn’t….get it!” His pace begins to pick up as he holds her down and fucks into her used hole.

“That’s right, they wouldn’t…but we get it, right baby?” His forehead touches hers as he continues to fuck into her.

“Y-yeah…”

“Yeah? Because we belong to each other. From the day I met you, you’ve been mine, all fuckin’ mine…” he grips her throat with his metal hand and keeps a brutal pace. It’s a strange feeling, the agony and ecstasy of relishing in unhinged coitus, of bearing your ugliness out on the same table you fuck your lover on. It’s liberating because he knows what she’s thinking. There’s no guessing games, he doesn’t feel any fear, no hesitation, just complete and utter synchronicity.

Johnny knows he’s needs it and fuck if V also needs this as well. So he fucks her hard into completion, into submission, into a promise. A silent accord, for as long as they have each other. To have and to hold, to fuck and to kill, however the hell people pledge themselves to each other in this day and age. His very soul belongs to her.

The silence between them is comforting, only the sounds of rain drizzling outside and nibbles playing with the beaded curtains next to the minibar. V slides over to lay on his ganic arm, his heartbeat, his warmth, feels real. She shuts her eyes tight and holds onto him for dear life, as if he’d disappear if she let him go.

A whisper floats through her mind, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. He can feel her smile and press herself closer to him, less out of fear and more out of need. He lays and watches the ceiling fade from view, letting sleep take him for the first time in over 50 years.

#johnny silverhand #female v #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk2077 #my fic #oneshot #silverV #Johnny x female v #johnny silverhand x reader #I wrote this for me but y’all can read it too💖

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Story Time // J. Todd x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: none!

Summary: Jason became a frequent patron at the local library a few months ago and struck up a friendship with you, a librarian. Things change when you need an assist in a time of need.

A/N: after watching my roommate play all of Gotham Knights as Jason, I have come to appreciate this big himbo appearance of him and I would be the big spoon to him always

“I’m looking for this book. It had a red cover and was about lions, I think?”

Jason had to cover his mouth to silence his laugh at the other library patron’s question. The blank look on your face wasn’t making it any easier. You sighed, almost imperceptibly, and plastered a smile on your face.

“Are you perhaps thinking of elephants? Water for Elephants?”

“Is that the one with the Twilight guy in the movie?”

“Yes, that is Robert Pattinson.”

“Perfect! Thanks.” The patron darted off to the adult fiction section, leaving Jason at the head of the line. A smile, a real smile, spread across your face at the sight of him. Jason had become one of your favorite patrons ever since he came in to get a card three months ago.

“I’m looking for a book,” he teased. “It’s got a purple cover and I saw it once eight years ago.”

“Please don’t,” you groaned as you dragged his stack of books towards you. “They seriously think I can mind read.”

Jason chuckled and leaned against the counter. “Hey, you’re pretty good at figuring out what they ask for so…”

“You’re thinking about the shawarma food truck over on Davidson Avenue.”

He cracked a grin. “Damn, you really are a mind reader. Not my fault that it’s got the best hummus in town.”

“And tzatziki sauce.” You nodded as if he gave you some kind of sage advice. Your nimble fingers swiped the books under the beaming red laser, eliciting a chirp from the computer before you. You paused at the final book at the stick and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s for my brother,” Jason said in explanation. You studied the children’s picture book about different types of birds.

“How old is he?”

“...Twenty-seven.”

You snorted at his answer and scanned it into the system. Pushing the books across the desk towards him, you opened your mouth to ask a question but he waved you off.

“Don’t need it. I’ll have these books back by next week, I guarantee it.”

You winked. “I’ll be holding you too that, Mr. Todd. See you next week.”

He was back precisely seven days later with all the books read and finished, including the picture book that Dick had strangely enjoyed and poured over it with Duke and Cass. Damn, Jason would need to think of a better way to embarrass a man who willingly wore a v-neck spandex suit with a mullet.

You were behind the desk, as per usual, but there was a wide-eyed panicked expression on your face that he hated to see. Jason bypassed the shelves, tossed the books he was returning into the drop off bin, and headed straight towards you.

“Hey, hi, sorry,” you blurted out when you saw him approach. “Our children’s librarian has the flu and one of the main librarians fell on ice and broke her ankle yesterday so it’s just me and Denise and she’s currently trying to get holds ready and-”

“Breathe,” he ordered. His voice came out sharper than normal, much more like his Hood voice, but it did the trick. Your jaw snapped shut and you blinked up at him, surprised that it worked.

“Deep breath in. Hold. Out.” Jason coached you through that once and then flattened his palms against the counter.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered once you were more stable. “We just have a reading event planned today and so many parents RSVP’d. Our library doesn’t get a ton of funding from the city because they think Bowery kids don’t need the same amount of resources as other neighborhoods since these kids aren’t expected to get out of here, but they deserve a fighting chance, y’know?”

You groaned and buried your head in your hands. Your voice was thick with tears and stress and frustration. “I’m going to have to cancel it.” Miserable. You sounded miserable.

“I can read to them,” he said. Jason immediately cursed himself out mentally the second the words tumbled from his mouth, but he couldn’t retract them now. Your head raised from your hands and he caught the spark that lit up in your eyes. It eased the discomfort a bit. Hell, he’d kill to make sure he never saw you panic like that again.

“Oh, can you?” Hope lined your voice right now and he shrugged.

“Sure. I used to read to my little brother.” He wouldn’t mention it was because Damian was incredibly docile thanks to being on heavy duty pain meds and the book in question was The Art of War.

You bounced away from the desk and rounded it, appearing at his side with a bright grin on your face. Your smaller hand enfolded itself around his and he almost choked on the warm, soft touch of your skin. Jason didn’t have time to pull himself together before you were tugging him towards the brightly painted children’s section.

Ratty bean bags and threadbare rugs dotted the floor. Jason understood what you mean by lack of funding. He made a note to guilt Bruce into donating a few thousand to this library and the local schools.

You ushered him over to a small plastic chair seated at the front of the room. “Okay, the reading doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, but I figured you could take that time to get familiar with the books. We have The Colors of Us, A Boy Like You, and King for a Day. Oh, shit, shoot.”

You cast a glance nervously over your shoulder at the two kids sitting quietly with books in hand over by the window. Jason repressed a snort of laughter and you rolled your eyes.

“Listen, I focus primarily on the adult books. I’m not a children’s librarian.” Despite your protest, you chuckled at your slip up. “We also have a book in Spanish, because we have a large bilingual community and Mary wants to include as many kids as she can. Next month we’ll have someone who speaks Korean, and then the month after that it’s Bengali, but-”

“Breathe,” he ordered again. You inhaled deeply to match his pattern and then slowly exhaled, a small smile flitting across your face.

“I speak Spanish,” he assured you. Jason picked up the book from the small pile and studied it for a second. “La Llama Llama Rojo Pijama. Yeah, I can easily read this.”

God, you were practically beaming. You bounced on your toes and then leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you so much, Jason! You’re a lifesaver.”

Well, hell, that might be the first time he’s been called that.

Kids began to stream in with fifteen minutes to go. Exhausted parents looked positively grateful for an opportunity to explore the library and take some time for themselves as a small army of thirty or so elementary schoolers settled on the worn seating around Jason. They stared up at him expectantly and Jason Todd, someone who had faced down the likes of Killer Croc and Bane before was sweating bullets under the scrutiny of these little terrors.

But then he glanced up and saw you standing at the edge of the bookshelves to the kids area, a cart of books pressed against your hip as you stocked the shelves, and he suddenly felt at peace.

“Alright, kids, my name is Mr. Jason and today we’re starting off with A Boy Like You. Which, hey, it’s good you’re all learning about how fu- messed up toxic masculinity is at this age. Lemme tell you, that sh- stuff will control your life.” He propped the book open on his knees, ensuring that it mainly faced the crowd. “Can we all see the pictures? Are we good?”

The crowd of heads nodded and he dove into the story.

Jason liked it a lot more than he thought he would. He raised his voice when the books crested into exciting moments and he lowered his voice into a deep bass when dramatic moments occurred. The kids squealed and shrieked as he used funny voices along with animal characters. By the time he finished the final book, a smile had found its way on his scarred face.

“Alright, time to go,” one mother announced. She and her wife thanked Jason, but their son bounded right up to him and wrapped his little arms around the vigilante’s legs. Jason froze for a moment before he leaned down to pat him on the back and then direct him towards his moms.

“Thanks, Mr. Jason!” the little boy exclaimed. As the kids all darted away to tell their parents about the books, you sidled up next to Jason.

“I can’t thank you enough. Seriously,” you gushed. “And you were so good at it!”

He shrugged, heat rising to his cheeks at your praise. “It was nothing.”

“Please,” you brushed off his humility. “Let me buy you a drink after my shift as a thanks.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you buy me a drink,” he said quickly and immediately regretted it once he saw your face fall. “I mean, we can get drinks, but Alfred would kill me if he knew I didn’t pay for your drink.”

“Alfred?”

Jason chuckled and ran a hand down his face. Truly, you might be the only person in Gotham who didn’t know who he was.

“What time do you get off work?” Changing the topic was the safe idea for right now. He could explain later.

“In about four hours. I’d hate to make you wait so long. I can just meet you later or-”

Jason nudged you and jerked his chin towards the circulation desk. “Got more books to shelve? I think I know the layout of this place well enough to help.”

You lit up. “Yeah! Let me show you how it works…”

He had a feeling he would be seeing you more than once a week.

Tag List: @khaetiin @mcrmarvelloki @gone-batty-fics @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @havingarebelliousstage @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @kat-nee @khaylin27

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood fluff

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

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okay fr what do you think scara is like in bed? what’s he into, what’re his kinks, the whole shebang?

modern scaramouche hc's

✭ tags ; sub!chara, dom!reader (they bottom but parts are unspecificed so gn!reader as well), this is also my modern!scaramouche take so just be aware, bratting, rough sex, slapping, hitting, a lil degradation, reader is v careful abt scaramouches boundaries tho, romantic implications reader is stronger than scara + he is short king, etc

✭ wc ; 2.1k (im soooo ashamed. anon im so sorry)

✭ a/n ; this got so out of hand so quickly. this is my personal scaramouche this has nothing to do with anyone but me and my delusions sorry in advance.

like really. cant describe how subjective this is but i also refuse to change my mind or see him any other way. thank u so much for inquiring

my modern scaramouche is usually aged like. 20-something in college. he goes to a nice university (a very competitive school mind you.) he was really concerned about excelling for like most of his hs career. kind of a loner except tartaglia who adopted him into his friend group.

he panics about his degree for the longest time cause he doesn't know what to do - but settles on civil architecture and minors in fine art.

he has his ears pierced and some other piercings too that he was peer pressured into, but overall likes how they look. he's not usually very dressed up and all of his closet is so oversized because comfort > fashion BUT he never looks like a slob either.

has like 3 other friends on campus (kazuha + mona + childe who somehow followed him there)

complicated relationship with his mom + stepmom (he doesn't hate her but they do not communicate so tons of misunderstandings between them. like sooo many)

and. usually not actively looking to date anyone ever. he had like one crush one time in highschool but chickened out so miserably and SEETHED about it the whole time.

after that he swore to never, ever, ever go back to that dark place and sort of just focused on his career and school. his major is pretty difficult so it takes a lot of his time

plus he's a little pretentious, stuck up little shit so only a few people can handle him in the first place.

anyways. u meet through tartaglia who thinks you two will get along really well (and he's trying to set you both up bc he thinks you two could work well together)

its honestly like oil and water. you're personality just rubs him the wrong way. sure childe is annoying, but he's stupid

you're...not stupid. you're kind of clever and you treat him with like. a sense of disrespect he hates. scaramouche is used to people who let him have the upperhand

but you're always pretty quick to shoot him down. you never let him him get away with anything and you guys have this like... insane back and forth for months

its the slowest of burns. he swears he hates you.

(he doesn't though. he thinks its really fucking attractive that you talk back to him and don't let him intimidate you ever. but he loathes that feeling. he also loathes how nice your laugh is and how easy it is to talk to you)

scaramouche spends. AGES. ages in denial. closes his eyes to it. its like 6 months deep into it - he starts having wet dreams and he wakes up HORRIFIED with himself.

WORSE? scaramouche knows about your sex life. not through you but through observation and gossip. he's not fucking you in the dreams. you're fucking him.

humiliated, he simply tries to ignore it. but it's making him so much moody than usual and because you two spend so much time together - you notice almost right away. of course you do.

"whats got your panties in a twist lately? not that you're usually sunshine and rainbows but you're acting like a little kid"

scaramouche says something mean. like, really mean in response. he's just so frustrated. its a personal jab, farther than he'd usually go.

he's expecting to sabotage himself you know? he does that sometimes. pushes people away when they get too close. it's a miracle he has any friends. he's expecting you to get annoyed and leave.

but there's this like. chill to your voice. and you're looking straight at him.

"you don't talk to me like that, understand? i don't care how shitty your mood is."

one hit k.o. he can't even breathe. what's wrong with him and what is happening to him, and holy shit why do you sound like that.

"sorry," he apologizes (him. he's apologizing first) "just. frustrating,"

and you immediately slink back to your usual self. and he's relieved and a little excited and just overall restless because he can't stop thinking about what just happened.

"it's fine. i like being on your ass or whatever but it's bothering me that you're so moody. maybe you really do need to get laid,"

the joke is one you often to make. it's meant to lighten the mood. but scaramouche is feeling pent-up and horny and that's kind of exactly what he needs

"s-shut up. it's not like you're going to do it,"

internally he's hoping you take the bait. he is equal parts horrified and excited watching you take in the information. you give him a lazy smile as you sit up and look at him.

"huh. do you...want me to do it?"

oh dear god. oh fuck.

"so what if i did?"

and then you laugh, which he can't decipher. he's gearing himself to be made fun of. he watches you with big wide yes as you come sit on the desk near him. feels your fingers trail his jaw and tilt his head up and holy shit he might really die.

he can barely look up at you.

"is that why you've been acting weird for last couple of weeks?" your voice is so smug and scaramouche is so turned on it's stupid. he hates it. hates himself. hates everything

"shut up,"

and then, you grab his chin. really make him look at you and it's startling but he doesn't pull away. you look gleeful.

"that why you've been running with your tail between your legs when you see me?" you hum, your eyes almost predatory "cause you want me to fuck you?"

its times like this scaramouche he could be honest. because that's exactly what he wants, but he hates having to say it.

"as if you could satisfy me," he says, instead. your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to register it all in your head.

"you're such a fucking brat," you say, light. affectionate, really. it makes his heart pump "you think i can't?"

"i'd like to see you try," he says, absolutely and utterly in disbelief internally. you grin.

"can i kiss you?"

"why're you asking?"

"cause im an asshole, not a villain,"

you and scaramouche makeout in a study room before he decides to to get ahold of himself and invites you into his dorm. he's never been so thankful in his life that his roomate is gone.

when you get scaramouche into bed - it really dawns on him how out of his element he is. he's not a virgin - a few awkward and usually bad hook-ups in his repertoire.

but you're not like them. he's bitey and on edge but you handle him. ask for permission for little things, clarifications for what he's okay with. you're thoughtful, despite how much he's lashing out.

and it's turning scaramouche so much he doesn't know how to handle it other than doing it again. he wants to provoke you so much. he wants to put him in his place over and over.

it's mid makeout he pulls away, frustration all-welled up inside him that he asks. he's hard and needy and needs something to get him off.

"i knew you were all talk," he sneers, putting as much of himself in it as he can "this is nothing,"

you look at him very seriously "you're really asking for it, huh," you say with a sigh "do you know what you're getting into?"

"nothing serious obviously,"

"usually when i deal with brats like you, i treat 'em real rough. im being nice to you cause you're so pent up, but it's like you don't want that," you grab his face again, getting close and personal this time and scaramouche feels like he'll collapse "want me to treat you mean and put you in your place? hit you and make you cry?"

oh it ruins his life. that's exactly what he wants. what he needs from you so much it aches. so much he chokes.

"wh-what the hell are-"

but you make him face forward, look you in your eyes.

"your first lesson is answer me when i talk to you. is that what you want? you can nod if you can't say it,"

so he nods and you laugh.

"yeah? should smack the brat outta you shouldn't i?

you're asking for permission. despite his everything, there's something affectionate about it. he feels his stomach twist with desire.

"just fucking do it already,"

"tell me if you need to stop,"

"i said—"

it's unceremonious, really. when scaramouche feels the palm of your hands on his cheek, landing heavy and hard as you push him back against the bed. you hit him.

he liked it. makes his cock throb in his fucking jeans, feeling the sting.

"your second lesson is don't fucking mouth at me," you practically spit. there's some roughness in your actions that make scaramouche keen as you crawl on top of him "can't even deal with your moods without lashing out."

scaramouche feels his stomach churn as your hands make rough work of him. you pin his wrists over his head, tell him to keep it there.

and of course he refuses, disobeys - gets to feel how strong you actually are when you spit the words back in his face again to hold fucking still.

scaramouche keeps doing it. keeps pushing until you have to put him back where he belongs forcibly. he doesn't know that he's doing it

but he wants something he can't name, a desire that aches so deep in his chest. he wants you to take responsibility for him - like a promise of some kind.

he likes the way your mouth feels on his skin. your teeth feel so good sinking into pale flesh. the scratch of your nails and sting of your palms as you spank and hit and push his body.

you manhandle him so fucking easily, putting him in every position you can think of. on his knees, or his back - naked and waiting.

you tease scaramouche till he's honest, your voice coarse until he starts giving in.

you're so good with your hands. your fingers, your mouth. you know just the right things to get him all squirmy - praising him when he's getting desperate towards the end.

his sense of shame nowhere to be found as he gets close to the edge. as you tip him over it, he can feel all the tension bleed out of him. goes from bitching, to whiny - needy and not above begging.

he doesn't even understand it. can't wrap his head around it all the way - lets you guide him through the feeling as he starts feeling pliant.

you let him fuck you with mercy. don't make him work for it, just sit on his cock and tell him that he looks so much better when he's all messed up for you and he just. melts completely. like feels like he's gonna fall through the floor.

he cries when he cums. sobs a little as he finally gets relief then melts into your bed like a pile of wet sand as you finish yourself off and overstimulate him a little in the process.

after all is said and done - he falls asleep basically immediately after the high.

when he wakes up the next day - you haven't left. he's like kind of nuzzled up in your arms (which. is wild bc he has always hated physical touch but? apparently not with you)

when you stir awake, you're immediately whistling. you even press a kiss to his forehead and brush his hair out of his face.

"you awake? feel okay?" you hum, so stupidly tender and scaramouche has to fight every urge to push you away.

"im...fine. you're still here," he says unhelpfully. you chuckle.

"yeah. figured you would start spiraling if i left in the middle of the night"

he is horrified at the accuracy.

"it's weird when you're being all...nice to me,"

"its a lot easier since i realize you just wanted to be put in your place," you say with a knowing him. scaramouche elbows you "it's cute, it's cute. don't kill me,"

"you're annoying,"

"yeah, i know. i wiped you down a bit but we should shower and i gotta make sure you're not too hurt anywhere,"

"i'm not a flower,"

"i was bein' pretty rough and its my job to take care of you,"

"why would that be your job?"

"cause im a responsible sexual partner and we're seeing each other, i figure?"

he flushes at the implication. he doesn't want to think about it as he cuddles himself into your side. ugh. whatever.

"who said that?"

"do you want me to see other people?"

"i'll kill you,"

"that's what i thought,"

scaramouche hates it but does not have the confidence to protest you.

scaramouche realizes with the weight of the world on his shoulders that he is the most submissive brat in the fucking world

he decides not to think about it for a while

#i edited it so much out i want to fuck the brat out of him im SORRRYYYYYYYY #scaramouche smut #genshin impact smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #writing tag

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