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#you first one shot
royallyprincesslilly · 7 months
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Title: You First {One-Shot} ***
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Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warning: Plenty Of Words, Cursing, NSFW, 18+ Mature Content, Male & Female Receiving,
Words: 7.3k
Summary: Nah!
Note: Written on my phone's Notes app, so please forgive any weird spaces or if the look of this is off.
As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this.
If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!
***NOT Edited/Proofread***
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You stared at the text then busted out laughing yet again. This time you couldn't control yourself. You let it all out not caring how loud you were.
"This fool," you said between gasps of air.
Was that supposed to be a love confession? Was that his way of saying he loved you or wanted to lock you down?  The more you thought about it the more you laughed. This fool couldn't be serious about anything. He always had some kinda joke or funny comeback. At the beginning of the text your heart melted, then at the end your eye roll took over. Did he make this graphic himself? Had he busted open a quote creator app and gotten carried away?
Sighing, you decided to fuck with him. After finding your own quote creator app you got busy creating. It took almost 10 minutes to finish because you quickly got sucked into the process and wanted to make it pretty. You looked it over again then hit send.
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The longer you admired your creation, the more you thought you did pretty good.
MSG Lewis:  Are you being serious right now?
As you giggled you typed out your reply.
MSG: Of course! I never lie about put me in the grave stroke game. It's so rare it must never be spoken about unless absolutely true or else you'll never experience it in life.
MSG Lewis:  🙄.
Again, you laughed.
MSG Lewis: See that's what I'm talking about. We're on the same wave length. You get me.
Snorting, you thought about his words.  He was right. You did get him. Often times you knew what he meant halfway through his sentence or knew how he felt just by looking at him, or even knew what he wanted without him uttering a single word. Sometimes you thought your connection was unsettling and it had taken many months for you to even embrace it and accept it for a cosmic connection. Now all you waited for were the 3 little words from his lips. 3 little words he'd been tight lipped with, 3 little words you could tell were at the tip of his tongue but dissolved whenever his brain and instincts entered the chat.
It wasn't that Lewis was a commitmentphobe. He liked all the perks of having a ride or die in his corner,  the support, the loyalty, the bomb sex, the intimacy, the comforting feeling of not going through life alone. He cherished all of that but a lot of times his battle with conquering and progression clouded things. He feared an unfulfilled life, feared not meeting all his goals on his endless list of goals that doubled and even tripled with each milestone he reached. He feared getting lost in anyone for fear of losing himself and his way. 
You'd seen that red flag that waved vigorously over his head the first time you spoke with him. It was a red flag that never went away but it was a red flag that your red flags enjoyed playing with. 
He didn't want to lose himself and neither did you. He wanted companionship and so did you. He wanted loyalty, support, bomb sex, a ride or die in his corner, intimacy that rivaled any other that others experienced, comfort, and goddamn it, so did you. He didn't want to depend on anyone or need someone, and fuck outta here neither did you. 
So, the musical chairs game you played worked well. There were kinks but the way the two of you were in your own personalities, those kinks always worked themselves out. This game, song and dance had been going on for 4 years now.  4 years of no strings attached companionship, loyalty, bomb sex, someone having your back, intimacy and comfort. 4 years of dating in the open in secret. 4 years of this connection and still neither of you had said the words. 
You wondered if it had turned into a game without either of you acknowledging it. Had there been times when the words were at the tip of your tongue? Sure. However you kept a tight chain on that shit because everyone knew that lose lips sink ships. Plus you weren't about to be the one at his mercy,  no matter how strong what you felt for him was.
MSG: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get you as much as you get me.
Putting your phone to the side, you tried to buckle down on the last bit of work so you could enjoy your 4-day weekend ahead.
MSG Lewis: Since I get you and you get me, when can I have you?
Just like that, you were distracted once again.
MSG: Depends. How do you want me?
MSG Lewis: Oh I think you know the answer to that already.
MSG: Nope. Tell me. I'm clueless.
MSG Lewis: I want you bent over the table on my penthouse balcony. Since I walked in and saw it the other day, I haven't been able to atop thinking about it.
MSG Lewis: I want you on your knees in front of me in broad daylight on that same balcony with my dick so far down your throat you can't breathe.
MSG Lewis: I want you against the wall of the pool here. The lights change color depending on the movement of the water and the sounds around. I want to see what pattern your moans make.
Your jaw was dropped, imagination running wild, and panties soaked. Fuck, you thought. For several minutes you just played through each of those fantasies. You didn't even realize how long you'd been trapped in them until your phone rang out startling you. When you saw it was Lewis, you took a few breaths to calm yourself. There was no way you were going to let him know he affected you.
"Hello?
"Were you just touching yourself?"
You scoffed, "I see you think very highly of yourself."
"Just asking."
"Not at all. I'm actually working."
"Boo."
"Says the workaholic."
He chuckled and the deepness of the sound sent a zing of electric current right to your lady parts.
"Mm."
"What was that little butterfly?"
"Nothing. That's a stupid nickname by the way."
"Oh, it definitely was something especially since you're trying to deflect from it by clowning the nickname I gave you. Do you remember why I gave it to you?"
You rolled your eyes.
"Nope. Forgot long time ago."
You were full of shit, you knew it and he knew it.
"Bullshit," Lewis called before continuing, "How could you forget that afternoon we spent having high tea at the garden? Well, we were supposed to be having high tea, instead my head was buried between your thighs barely touching you except for the lite barely there butterfly flicks of my tongue against your clit."
He moaned then and you couldn't help but slip your fingers to the place where you wanted them most. Well, you really wanted his fingers but yours would have to do.
"You remember now, little butterfly?"
Your finger swirled around your slick bud not wasting time with teasing. You wanted a release, and you wanted it now. Truth be told you were quite fond of the nickname. It brought back wonderful memories. Memories of a warm rays beaming on your skin, a gentle breeze caressing your back as his fingers did the same to your inner thigh. What a feeling to be Rosé tipsy and getting amazing head. Not much else could compare in the world.
"Mm you tasted better than those strawberry shortcake scones," Lewis teased.
The more he spoke the faster your finger swirled and the faster your finger swirled the shallower your breathing became.
"Oh little buttlerfly I can hear your breathing. Are you touching yourself to my voice? Using the dirty things I say to get a nut? Does it feel good?"
"Mm."
It was the softest of whimpers, but you knew he heard it. In response, Lewis let out a deep moan and you felt that moan right between your legs.
"Fuck, Lewis," you rasped.
"Tell me does it feel good, Y/N?"
"Ye--," you gasped as a strong wave of pleasure hit you. "Yes!”
"How good?"
"So fucking good," you replied already in a frenzy.
"As good as my fingers? "
You groaned, "No."
"As good as my mouth?"
Your panting turned to whines now as you felt how close you were. "No ne-never."
"As good as this long, thick dick?"
"Oh fuck..."
You heard his muffled grunting and knew he was doing the same thing you were. For a man of immeasurable control, you always pulled him to this point.
"I want your tight little pussy wrapped around my dick right now. I want to fuck you until you can't walk, speak, or even comprehend the English language. Fhhhuck!”
"I'm gonna cum Lewis I'm gonna--gonna...
"Cum with me little butterfly."
On command, your entire being shook as you found your release. Your high-pitched wails filled the room, and you couldn't care less who heard you. You were sure they'd heard far worse through your walls.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Lewis groaned.
You could hear him panting as he tried to get himself back under control.
"Come see me this weekend. I miss you."
"This weekend as in tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I know we have an agreement for at least 48 hour notice but---."
The silence stretched for a while.
"But?"
He sighed, then came rustling as you assumed he changed his positioning.
"I really do miss you," Lewis said, his voice soft and sincere.
You picked up on something else in it...something close to longing. You sat extra still and contemplated his words, allowing them to fully sink in. He sounded so vulnerable so delicate.
Oh boy, here you go, your brain said to your heart before you replied.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You don't know what divine and holy being you had to thank for everything coming together so effortlessly and flawlessly. Somehow you'd managed to snag a squeeze in, last minute show up appointment at your body spa for the works, nails, massage, wax, etc. You even managed to procure all the items from your favorite brands for the weekend in just 3 hours.
Things continued to move smoothly when you breezed through packing, an act that usually would take hours and inconceivable degrees of stress on the PS scale, and managed to be 100% put together in the back of the chauffeured car on the way to the private tarmac just after 1pm the next day. This had to be a record.
By the time you landed in Qatar, the sun was still high in the sky, and you felt like you were seconds away from evaporating into a sparkling plume of magical melanted fairy dust. You knew Lewis was probably with the team trying to tweak his car and come up with strategies for his upcoming race and you didn't want to interrupt but you now felt the magnitude of how much you'd missed him.
The debate in you went for the duration of the drive to Lewis' hotel and at the last minute you decided to just go to the hotel and push those feelings down. You didn't want to be the one who fell first. The drive was peaceful and scenic. Every sight you passed you gaped in awe. There was something so majestic about simple surroundings with mind-boggling architecture that encapsulated a country in the best of the past and the future. When you walked into the penthouse you received a message from Lewis.
MSG Lewis: Landed?
MSG: Yep.
MSG Lewis: On your way to the paddock?
MSG: Nope.
That was the last message you got from him until he walked inside the penthouse 4 hours later. The sun was setting beautifully over the sky, bathing everything in milky oranges, purples and reds setting the scene with the dinner you'd just finished cooking in the state-of-the-art kitchen. Yeah, you could have ordered room service, but you wanted to give him one of his favorites authentically made. The soft instrumentals playing made it so you didn't hear him come in. It wasn't until Roscoe jumped up on your leg did you realize you weren't alone anymore.
"Oh my goodness, Roscoe. Hi baby. How are you?"
You were stooping rubbing the fashionable bulldog down and cuddling him close. You'd missed him and from the way he lapped at every inch of exposed skin you could tell he missed you too.
"Have you been a good boy for daddy? Have you? Yes? Oh, you're so cute."
You peppered kissed along his frame then gathered him in your arms. Roscoe took full advantage and attacked you with licks, pinning you down. You giggled and wiggled trying to hide your mouth from him. You loved him to death, but you kissed no dog on the mouth.
From somewhere to the side, you heard a series of tongue clicks and seconds later Roscoe climbed off of you and padded away. From your lying position, you saw Lewis standing there with Roscoe assuming his perfectly trained position, right at his feet.
"What are you jealous?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. You stood and rearranged your form-fitting jersey dress and saw Lewis' eyes rake over your frame. His eyes rested at your hips which the dress accentuated, and a smirk slipped across your lips.
"I dont get jealous," Lewis said.
You snorted knowing he was the one who was full of shit now. He'd never admitted it, but you knew there had been several occasions where his jealousy manifested in the form of a back breaking, cervix bruising fuck all because of the attention you drew in his presence.
"Thats the hello I get little butterfly?"
Scoffing, you crossed the room to him then wrapped your arms around him pressing up so close to him your bodies melded perfectly. Lewis let out a soft sigh as he reciprocated your action. The longer you remained in his arms the tighter he held you.
"Mm, you smell good," you mumbled against his neck.
Lewis pulled back then gazed into your eyes, "So do you."
His lips softly pressed to yours, surprising you. You expect something more fevered and frenzied but there was nothing frenzied about the way his lips moved across yours. The languid way his tongue coaxed your lips apart continued with the way it stroked and wrapped around yours. He was taking his time, pressing this moment to his physical memory banks. When his hands slid down to rest on your hips, he pulled you closer and a groan slipped from him vibrating against your lips.
Lewis' fingertips pressed roughly into your flesh and the heat from him seared the fabric of your dress and branded you. "Mm."
When he pulled back, his forehead was pressed against yours. "Thank you for coming," he whispered.
Holy shit you thought. This was new somehow. There was something about this exchange that felt different from every other one over the years. The way your heart thundered against your rib cage was also new and because of how close you were, you worried he could feel it. Just as you were going to pull away from him, you looked up into those dangerous burnt honey and bourbon eyes and you were trapped, captivated and so ready for him.
The moment was thick with the promise of more but then Roscoe cut the sexual tension with a bark. That was where you found the strength to tear yourself from him creating space as you wondered what the fuck that was.
"Hungry? I made your favorite."
Lewis rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head as if he too had been greatly affected by whatever that was just now. 
"Starving."
"Cool. I set the table on the balcony. Thought we could eat out there," you said walking back to the kitchen counter.
"Need help?"
"No. You and Roscoe go sit I'll be out soon."
Lewis lingered for a few moments before he walked off to the balcony with Roscoe trotting behind him. You busied yourself plating up the meal you'd made with him in mind. Then you plated Roscoe's vegan feast. When you put his bowl down, Roscoe immediately went for it.
"Roscoe, what do you say?"
Like the obedient pup he was, he stopped in his tracks before he buried his face in the bowl then yipped at you before circling you once and giving your exposed leg a lick. Your heart melted.
"Good boy," Lewis rewarded.
Roscoe then happily dug into his food as you placed the rest of the plates on the table. Before you pulled out your chair, Lewis beat you to it. He was always the perfect gentleman but because of the moment you shared earlier this also felt different.
"Thank you."
"It smells amazing," Lewis complimented as he prepared to dig in.
You watched him take a hearty forkful then smiled when his eyes lit up. He moaned and added another forkful before finishing what was already in his mouth.
"Mm."
You giggled and followed his action. He was right. It was good, you knew that though. As you ate, he told you about his last few weeks of work and play. He told you about the week he'd spent with Miles in Japan and the latest on his niece and nephew and other family members. Then he listened attentively as you spoke about your last few weeks and the details of how you'd spent your time away from him.
By the time dinner and dessert were finished and the sun had long set, you continued to listen as he spoke of his day and the changes they'd made for the next race. He looked tired as if this chosen career was taking its toll. A sudden urge to give him a massage washed over you and without thought you stood, moved behind him and did just that. As expected, his shoulders were tense.
Almost as soon as you started Lewis moaned then relaxed under your hands. His words stopped and the only sounds around you were the sounds of Roscoe peacefully napping at your feet and the quiet nature sounds of Qatar. The longer you massaged you found yourself relaxing as if this was as natural to you as breathing. When you felt Lewis' head resting against your stomach you looked down and found his eyes staring at you with nothing but tenderness and awe. It was then you realized how very domestic this was especially right now.
Lewis' eyes continued to bore into you making it impossible to look away. Gradually your hands slowed until they came to a complete stop. One thing that did not stop was your heart. It pounded loudly in your ears, and you knew he could either hear it or feel it. You tore your eyes from his and looked into the sky at the full moon.
"U-uh--um...this is amazing, so beautiful," you stuttered as you stepped away from him ready to clear the dishes away.
Before you made it, Lewis grabbed your hand and pulled you to him bringing you down into his lap. Again, on instinct you wrapped your arms around his neck while his engulfed your waist.
"Did you miss me, Y/N?"
His voice was low, only loud enough for you to hear. You watched him rake his eyes over every inch of your face before he gazed back into your eyes.
"Did you miss me?"
It was a cop-out; he'd told you that he did last night. Lewis smirked then sighed as he tipped his head back to look in the sky. Nudging his chin up to it, he spoke.
"I’ve looked at that moon every night no matter where I've been for the last 5 weeks, and I thought of you."
You looked across to the full moon then back at him. He looked as if he were having an internal debate over something. He remained quiet for several long moments and when he spoke again, what he said surprised you.
"I thought what is she doing right now? Is she looking at the same moon? Does she miss me? Is she having fun right now or is she home unable to shake the inexplainable blues? Or am I out of sight and out of mind? Is she smiling at someone else right now the way she smiles at me or letting them kiss on her? Is she working herself into the ground or unable to get up because of how crippled she is with this confusing sadness?"
Lewis took a breath then harshly released it. Keeping his eyes on the moon, he continued oblivious to how you were crumbling before him.
"This moon is the only thing that made me feel closer to you. This moon has seen me do embarrassing things all in the name of you. Things I don't fully understand yet. Things that are completely unexpected especially for me."
You remained silent unable to speak because you knew if you did you would blurt the answers to each and every one of those questions he wondered about. So, you bit your tongue and focused on not crumbling any further and resisting the urge to kiss him. His eyes shifted to you, and everything became too much.
"You’re so beautiful like this," Lewis whispered bringing his hand up to caress your cheek.
"I look jet lagged."
He smiled softly, "You look flawless."
Your stomach did backflips now. Holy hell, the man was on a mission to ruin you.
"I missed you too," you said in a daze.
They were words you hadn't planned on saying, words you'd been trying to keep in for weeks. Words you were reluctant to speak out loud because words carried weight. Words held implications and brought complications. From the way he looked at you now you could tell those complications had just sprouted and had now woven around the two of you. A clean break looked to be something that was quickly drifting out of reach.
Lewis' cupped the back of your head then pulled your lips to his. Kissing you slowly he sparked the desire for him in you that laid just below the surface--always just at the surface. Within seconds you twirled your tongue with his, teasing as good as you got. It didn't take long for the kiss that began slowly and felt timid and investigative to turn sultry. When he moaned against you, yours followed.
You felt like you'd been struck by lightning, but the feeling was 10 times more electrifying as if you stood in the sand in the middle of a storm and the act of lightning striking the sand also set you ablaze wrapping you in a cocoon of flames and electricity. Soon you'd pulled the hair tie from his hair leaving his black and blonde braids free.
Your lungs burned and begged for air--they pleaded for the very sustenance that would prolong your life, but you didn't give them what they craved because you craved something else entirely. Lewis pulled his lips from yours then bombarded your neck with kisses. The more he kissed the hazier everything became. When you leaned back the clatter of dishes brought you back to reality.
"Lewis--the--the dishes," you whispered. Anything louder was above you right now.
"Leave them. It doesn't matter."
Moving you as he pleased, he rearranged your positioning so you were now straddling him.
"The dishes will sit here if--if--."
Lewis claimed your lips again clearly in an attempt to shut you up. You moaned as you felt his hardness press against the quickly dampening fabric of your underwear.
"Lewis," you groaned again.
"Tomorrow’s another day."
With that he went back to your neck this time sucking his path to the one spot he knew you would be powerless to fight against. Your gasp was high-pitched and jagged when he sank his teeth into your flesh.
"Fuck," you croaked as you held onto him tighter. "Lewis."
His lips were on a mission, and it was to make your panties not just damp but soaked. He was well on the right path, and he knew it. The feel of his hand sliding around your waist and against your stomach left a trail of heat and need. Then when he pressed his palm between your breasts right at your sternum, he paused. You knew he was feeling your heartbeat.
Lewis' eyes met yours and the same wild passion you felt thundering inside of you, you saw mirrored back in his eyes, and it scared the shit out of you. He continued to press down sending your back to rest against the edge of the table.
From there he trailed that same hand up, up, up to your neck where he gripped it and squeezed. It wasn't hard enough to cause harm but just enough to thoroughly ruin your underwear. Another moan escaped you and this one was very telling. Lewis brought his other hand into the mix just before he dipped down and cupped your breasts.
"Oh fuck, Lewis," you whined.
The feel of his large hands massaging you sent actual chills through you and made you want him even more.
"I like the way my name sounds from your mouth," he mumbled against your neck never stopping the assault on your skin. If he kept this up, you were sure you'd cum.
At the thought of cumming Lewis doubled down on the spot on your neck while his hands continued massaging your breasts. Every so often he tweaked your nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. His hands left your breasts for a few moments, and you whined, begging him to come back. Lewis gripped your hips as he stood. His body was now keeping you pressed against the table while he slid the dishes to the side of the table away from the two of you, then he plopped you on it.
From your half-lying position, you stared at him taking in how unbridled he looked. His hair hung loose around his face, lips red and swollen, eyes completely glazed as he stared at you like you were his next meal.
"So damn beautiful," he mumbled before he hovered over you and kissed you.
The kiss was so passionate, so deep, and all-consuming that you struggled to hang on to your sanity, struggled to keep yourself restrained so you didn't say something you oughtn't. Lewis kissed a blazing trail down your throat, across your collar then down the center of your body until he nipped at your nipple which strained through the material of your dress begging for more.
"Mmm."
His lips didn't stop there though, when he kissed just below your belly button, he gripped your thighs.
"I'm hungry."
His intention was now crystal clear, and it broke through the haze in your brain. You gaped at him.
"What?! Here? We're outside on the balcony Lewis."
"So what?"
He slowly hiked up the hem of your dress as your brain sputtered, "So what? People could see."
Again, Lewis' response was nonchalant, "So?"
Dropping a kiss to your inner thigh, he sucked onto your flesh making your nether parts twitch and throb. He was not playing fair. Lewis trailed a path of open-mouthed kisses, nibbles and fire to your pelvis. Your body involuntarily lurched upward sending your sex brushing against his jaw. Lewis groaned then cussed.
"For fuck, Y/N, you will be the death of me."
He laid the flat of his tongue against your core then licked upward nudging your clit which felt incredible, so incredible you exclaimed into the night air.
"Baby," you whispered.
"Still stop, little butterfly?"
"What if someone sees? We can end up on TMZ or Daily Mail? If that happens everyone will know, this--this becomes--crazy."
Lewis stared at you really thinking about your words. He looked like he was quickly running through the possibility, but not even a minute went by before he spoke again.
"Listen to me. I want you in every aspect of the word want, everything it epitomizes. Everything."
Lewis scoffed then shook his head. "I want you, Y/N. I want you emotionally, mentally, physically, I want to engulf you, swallow you whole so my entire being captures your entire being."
Holy shit in a manger, you thought as his words washed over you. The intensity in his eyes only stole more of your breath.
"I don’t see outside, I dont see a balcony, I don’t see anything but you…and me."
Lewis laced his fingers through yours holding your hands against the table in the most tender way. His eyes so clear and open bore into you working whatever magic he had that always made you want to give in to him. "Let me have you…all of you. Every inch, every single part that you hide and tuck away, every part that you hold back from me, every layer that you deny. All of you."
Elsa's ice castle had nothing on you, right now in this moment being pinned underneath the last man you had ever expected to fall for, you were completely frozen as every single feeling you were currently feeling came to life in your mind in the form of screams. He'd always had a way with words and right now you decided to be just like Elsa and let it go.
And that was what you did. You let go. You pulled him to you by the collar of his shirt and crashed your lips to his then kissed him like the desperate, needy woman you were. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of you. You no longer cared to hold back, no longer cared if you slipped up and said something first. He'd just said plenty. Lewis moaned as he battled for control but found no winning ground until he pulled away then kissed down your body again.
With rapid movements he raked your dress up around your waist then pushed your panties to the side. Once you were bare for him, he buried his face between your legs wasting no time on teasing. He licked and sucked at you like he were a starving man and every moment without the sweetness between your thighs caused him mortal pain.
You arched your back off of the table as your moans echoed around you. Resting your hand on his head you used it to center yourself. You knew you weren't going to last long; it had been too long, and you wanted too much. Lewis released your other hand and used his fingers to spread you. He then concentrated attention of his tongue against your clit sent you over the edge and you collided hard into your release.
A long drawn-out screech left you as your body convulsed from the sheer power of your orgasm. The sun had set hours ago but the entire sky lit up again with the oranges, purples, and reds. As you rode the wave of pleasure, Lewis remained between your legs inching you higher and higher with a series of mini orgasms that left his name on your lips.
When he emerged and kissed his way up your body he nuzzled your neck. "You've never shook before," he said looking into your eyes.
"Something is different," you whispered.
He studied you for a few moments then nodded, but before he spoke you kissed him again as you sat up. Taking control, you turned your bodies putting him against the table. Lifting off his shirt, you dropped it to the floor before you attacked his chest and teasing the spot right at his collar.
"Aaah, shit."
You didn't relent hellbent on making him as weak as you'd been moments ago. Lewis gripped the edge of the table as you continued your onslaught of kisses, licks and nibbles across every inch of his exposed flesh. When you made your way down his chest, and across his abs his eyes were glued to you. As you met them, you undid his pants then yanked them down. His hardness sprang free then bobbing in the air before you. Pre-cum dribbled from him while the length of him spasmed. You blew on it, making him groan loudly.
"Fuck don't tease me, Y/N, I can't take it."
You smirked. "As you wish."
With that you took the entire length of him into your mouth bottoming out as you tightened your throat around him.
"Aahggh!”
You moaned when you felt him throb even more from the tight confines you'd forced him into. Your name tumbled from his lips over and over, and as it did you pushed past all the boundaries and things got messier and messier. Each moan of your name sounded softer and softer until he looked to be completely at your mercy.
Before you knew it, Lewis had pulled you to your feet and crashed his lips to yours. His tongue coiled around yours just before he sucked pulling you into a sinful exchange that you desperately wanted more of. As he kissed you, he lifted you securing you on his lap and in the same breath lowered you until he was filling you to capacity.
"Oh fuck!”
Neither of you moved, both of you allowing the moment to consume you. However, neither of you could stand the stillness for long. Lewis lifted your body then lowered you again sending a shiver through you when he nudged deep inside of you. Fuck he felt good, you thought to yourself, throwing your head back.
As he moved you against him, you rocked on him using him to chase your next release. Soon your movements became frenzied, both of you desperate for one another.
"Y/N," Lewis grunted.
Each time you flicked your hips forward, he held you tighter. Soon he was practically dropping you on his cock allowing gravity to do the work. Every time he did that you clenched around him sensing how close you were.
"God, you feel so good baby," you said, holding onto him tightly.
Lewis turned and splayed you across the table spreading your legs wide so he could watch himself slide in and out of you.
"So fucking pretty. Watch me fuck you little butterfly. Watch this thick dick fill you up."
You eased onto your elbows and did as you were told. Your pleasure increased as you watched the sensual act of your coupling. Every few strokes, Lewis slowed down then locked eyes with you.
"Mmm do you see that? Your tight little pussy creams for me."
Dipping your hand down, you swirled your clit then rolled your eyes to the back of your head when that lit a fire for something so intense you could feel it burning through you like a lit TNT fuse.
"Oh god I'm gonna cum," you warned.
"Cum for me little butterfly. Cum all over this dick. Let me see how good I make you feel. How perfect we are for each other."
Lewis circled his hips hitting every angle with precision and without mercy. The pounding of your heart in your ears drowned everything out. The only thing you could focus on was the way your body tingled as if the entire thing was asleep and slowly waking up.
"Yes, yes, yes right there. Right fucking there Lewis!”
When you screamed your body shook again, you'd lost all control. Lewis' lips claimed yours, swallowing your scream but joining you with his own shout. It felt as if he were taking the life from your body but giving you his in exchange, fusing you together in an unbreakable bond. In those seconds that both of you came together you transcended space itself, floating off out of your body to soar in ecstasy just before an inky darkness swallowed you whole.
Slowly your eyes fluttered open and the first thing you noticed was the feel of softens under and around you. It contrasted from one of the last feelings you remembered before your world went dark. You realized in moments that you weren't on the table anymore. Glancing to your right you squinted as bright sunlight assaulted your retinas. A soft groan left you then you rolled to your left hoping to get away from it.
Your arms stretched and you took note of the emptiness beside you. That didn't feel right. You shot your head up and looked around, keeping your eyes squinted. It was either early morning or afternoon and you were not in your own bed. You dropped back down and allowed the memories to come back. When they did, you flopped onto your back and flinched as the throbbing ache of your body became a focal point.
"Jesus. What the fuck Lewis," you groaned reaching between your legs as the ache persisted. When you did that, you felt the soreness of your back and it was then you remembered lying against the stone table as Lewis had his way with you.
Coiling into a ball you flinched at the raw burn of your knees. When you looked at them you saw how bruised and chaffed they were. You recollected kneeling before him as you brought him to the brink of recklessness then again on the table as he buried his face between the full swells of your ass.
'Shit."
Though you were in pain your body thrummed alive with the beginning stirs of desire. Unbelievable you thought. You wanted him even now. Sitting up, you slowly slid to the foot of the bed then took a breath before you stood. Upright the thoroughness of the fucking you'd taken last night washed over you and you smirked because you regretted nothing.
After a piping hot shower where the pressurized showerheads worked magic on your aches, pains and soreness, you felt more human. When you walked out of the bedroom wrapped in your robe you made your way to the kitchen hoping to find some strong Middle Eastern coffee that would make you feel like a NASA rocket.
Before you made it to the kitchen you caught sight of Lewis from the corner if your eye on the balcony working out. He dropped to the floor did 5 perfect push-ups then 5 plank tucks before coming back up to do a sequence of right and left hooks with short jabs. He did it again and again and by the 4th rep your jaw was dropped as you stared at him. His body glistened with sweat and that sweat only made his newfound more defined muscles that much more mouthwatering.
You slurped back the little bit of drool that was almost dribbling from the corner of your mouth, "Holy shit."
Unable to look away you watched him move on to pull ups. With his back facing you, you got the perfect view of his shoulders and the incredible definition of his back. He was gorgeous and you knew then that though you hadn't said the words to him it didn't make it less true. You wanted him and he had you in more ways than you liked.
Unexpectedly, Lewis turned and caught you ogling him. A cheeky smirk stretched across his perfect face, and you knew there was no way to play it off. Still, you tried. Clearing your throat, you walked to the kitchen and said a silent prayer for health and wealth to whoever delivered the coffee then poured some into the ornate and vintage looking tea and coffee cup, then smiled as you took a sip.
"Mm."
The flavors of cardamom, cinnamon, hints of cedar, creamy pistachio and something close to cherry washed over your tastebuds and in seconds you'd finished the cup. It was that good. You poured a second cup then took your tine with it.
You could feel Lewis' eyes burning into you and though he made no sound you knew he was coming to you. When his scent wrapped around you, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip hoping to stifle the moan. He didn't touch you, but you knew just how close he was to you. Just when his proximity alone was causing havoc on your senses, he brushed his lips to your ear.
"Good morning."
The sudden urge to push him against the wall filled you but you resisted.
"Was it? I woke up alone. For a man who said he wanted me here you sure don't show it."
Lewis came around the kitchen island and took a coffee for himself. "Of course, I want you here, Y/N."
You rolled your eyes. "Yet I'm sleeping alone and you're working out."
You were only teasing him but parts if it felt true. Lewis put his cup down and came around to you wrapping his arms around you.
"I'm sorry. When you blacked out last night or this morning for the 3rd time, I put you in bed, but I was still wired, like more wired than I've ever been. I tried everything video games, working, reading, watching tv nothing worked. I just wanted you more and more. This workout took the edge off."
You let his words resonate. Blacked out? Third time? He wanted you? You finished your coffee then walked out of the kitchen toward the balcony. The memories flashed through your head like a movie. You had blacked out 3 times. He'd put in work work.
"So you were trying to hold back your perv tendencies."
Lewis snorted then wrapped his arms around you again.
"If I'm a perv then what does that make you?"
He turned you to face him and you smirked.
"The innocent obviously."
Lewis smiled then caressed your jaw. "I'm sorry I took too much last night."
You studied him for a moment then smiled. "I'm standing and able to walk. I don't think it was too much."
Lewis stared into your eyes trying to figure out if that was true.
"So you're working out because you're still horny."
He licked his lips then slid his hands down your arms.
"I'm working out because I'm wired and--you're not helping with what you're wearing."
His thumbs hooked at the collar of your robe teasing it. You smirked.
"Oh no?"
You pulled the sash then dropped the robe at your feet to stand before him completely bare. Lewis sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes raked over your body. His expression was pained as if he felt tortured.
"You want to not be able to walk or sit right today huh."
With a shrug, you slipped a hand down the front of his basketball shorts then smirked once you had the prize in hand.
"You're already so hard."
Boldness overtook you making you lower to your knees. You ignored the burn from the stretching skin over your knees and pulled him free.
"It's day time little butterfly. Someone could be watching," Lewis cautioned.
You smiled while stroking his length, preparing him for you.
"Then I better give a good show."
With that you lowered your mouth down his need, wasting no time with teasing.  Lewis' hands slipped to the back of your head as he watched you please him. The tight clench of his jaw said he was barely holding on at this point. When he began thrusting forward, pumping your mouth you opened your throat so you could take more of in.
'Aaaagh! You're ruining me Y/N. I'm completely fucking ruined for anyone who isn't you!"
You moaned then slurped your way up his shaft and smiled as you jerked him.
"You like hearing that huh? Like knowing that you've got me to the point where I dream about you at night and fantasize about you during the day. Like knowing that anyone who approaches me to flirt or hint at wanting to be on their knees in front of me like this is met with quick dismissal."
You moaned again then found his dick slipping down your throat. With a few thrusts, Lewis was fucking your throat for his enjoyment and your punishment for your cockiness. He knew you liked knowing that.
"You like knowing that your name is my favorite thing to moan. Like knowing that I only want you, I only want to be around you, I only want to show you these countries, I only want to experience this life with you by my side."
You paused completely shocked at the turn of his confession.
"Lewis--."
"Don't deny it."
He didn't give you the chance to before he shoved his cock right back in your mouth. Taking control, you gave everything you had used all the tricks in your repertoire all in the name of his pleasure. Within moments Lewis grunted and held tightly to your head as he released spurt after spurt of himself down your throat. You moaned as the hot thick substance hit the back of your throat, but you didn't pull away, you locked eyes with him and swallowed everything he gave.
"Fuck!”
Lewis pulled you up then threw you over his shoulder before stalking toward the bedroom. Once there he dropped you onto the bed and watched as you spread wide for him. Lowering himself, he hovered over you then swiped the tip of his hardness across your sex. You shivered then bit your bottom lip.
"You like knowing that you are the only woman I could ever--would ever want to go completely bare with."
His words brought back the memory of just that happening all night and early morning. Lewis watched you waiting for you to say something, object, anything but you didn't. Lewis slowly nudged forward pushing into you so achingly slow making sure you felt every inch, all the stretch as your body tried to accommodate him after it being pushed to the brink hours before. You gasped as the mix of pleasure and pain sent you so close to the edge it became impossible to breath.
Lewis looked as close as you were. With him fully seated inside of you, your eyes lingered as his body did over you.
"I'm yours, Y/N."
Your breath caught and the only thing for you to do was come clean.
"I'm yours."
At first Lewis looked completely surprised but then slowly he smiled.
"Took you long enough."
You snorted. "You still said it first."
Lewis flicked his hips forward making you groan.
"We'll see who says it most."
Drawing his hips back he plowed forward with full force making your eyes roll back and your body quiver. It was going to be a long day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months
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Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)
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Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged
Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.
CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)
Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually. 
At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together. 
It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.
 
Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course. 
You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit. 
“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you. 
“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point. 
“Right,” Eddie replied. 
And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet. 
“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question. 
“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.” 
“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention. 
“About me shutting up?” 
“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 
You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.
 
“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”
 
“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no. 
“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?” 
You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little. 
“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.” 
Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.
“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical. 
“You what?”
 
“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”
 
Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.
 
“Can I meet him later?” 
Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh. 
“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”
 
You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table. 
“What can I get for you? The regular?” 
You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully. 
“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”
 
The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets. 
“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully. 
“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.” 
“Say what?”
Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom. 
“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter. 
“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them. 
Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that. 
“Promise,” Eddie replied. 
Good.
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noxious-fennec · 10 months
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Snapshots of simpler times..
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smuttyaf · 3 months
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The Business
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚.
𝐭𝐡��𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞/𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐝𝐬𝐦. 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬:
his life is starting to affect you.
𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛:
the story about how you meet.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭:
harry shows you what he does for work.
𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐫. 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬: ( 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 )
harry introduces bdsm.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐦
secrets cut wounds into the relationship.
𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞
you’re compelled to adapt to his lifestyle.
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brookheimer · 1 year
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not sure why people don't seem to understand that shiv being the victim of misogyny and vitriol from all the men in her life can and does coexist with the fact that she is not a feminist liberal hero fighting to save democracy. why is it that we never afford her any nuance? she's either the only good person on the show and deserves to kill every man in a ten foot radius (twitter) or a uniquely evil cruel sociopath with no heart fueled entirely by spite (reddit). is it not just so much more interesting for her to be a fascism aiding and abetting character like the rest of them who also views herself as more progressive in spite of everything else about her and who undergoes horrific treatment at the hands of the men around her yet has no interest in undoing the system that allows them to do so, only in ruling it herself? shiv is not any better than the others nor is she any worse than them. there's no Evil Olympics here guys, nor should there be. snook said it herself in the after credits sequence -- shiv was just lucky that her interests aligned with her sympathies. who knows what she would've done had mencken been her best personal option? yes she cares infinitely more about politics than roman, yes she is still very much interested in maintaining the capitalist, fascist structure and even strengthening it, so long as it ends with her on top (which either way would be a win for liberal causes bc Woman). fascism isn't one-size-fits-all. it's not just mencken and trump. it's also mattson. it's also logan. it's also roman and shiv and kendall. that's... kind of one of the main points of succession? but even so, that does not negate the fact that as a woman it is so hard to watch some of the scenes with her and tom/roman/kendall -- of course that misogyny will resonate with female viewers, as it should!!! but that resonance needs to coexist with a deeper understanding of her character -- if you want to root for a bad bitch fighting against misogyny go watch, i don't know, captain marvel or whatever. what makes shiv interesting is that she's so so so much more than that -- she is the product, victim, and perpetrator of misogyny and fascism, two concepts so heavily intertwined they're virtually inextricable from each other. tl;dr it's one thing to be like my god someone give shiv a gun and it's another entirely to say, entirely seriously, that shiv is the Good Liberal Feminist One and the rest are all evil. like i absolutely adore shiv but i would honest to god find her so fucking boring if she were actually the person these tweets make her out to be i'm sorry
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gurugirl · 11 days
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Intuition | bfd!harry
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Summary: Harry's got a surprise for you.
A/N: It's been a while! Enjoy!!
Word Count: 3.4k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, fluff, breeding kink, age gap
Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist
Harry was up to something. You knew he was. You’d been around him long enough to know the signs that he was keeping a secret. He was trying to act normal. All lovey with lots of touches. He came home from work that evening with this look on his face like he had a secret he wanted to tell you but had to wait.
“What is it? What are you smirking about? I can tell you want to say something,” you poked his ribs after he got out of the shower and you stood next to him in the bathroom in front of the mirror.
“I’m not smirking,” he smirked.
“Yes, you are!” You laughed and pointed at his reflection in the mirror.
He licked his lips and tried to hide his smile but the dimples remained deep in his cheeks as he turned toward you and wrapped you in his arms. He was still damp after his shower. The towel around his waist tucked in well so it didn’t slide off when he moved his hands up your back and pulled your face to his, pressing his mouth against yours.
He was definitely hiding something. Trying to distract you. And the distraction did work eventually when he got your clothes off and tossed you in your bed and shut you up by making love to you.
“You want a baby? Yeah? Want to be a mommy, Y/n?” Harry was driving into you deep and then pulling out to his crown over and over again, long deep, slow strokes that had you at his mercy.
And you did want that. Harry’s divorce was finalized. It felt like it took so long and the stress that you two went through was difficult but it had been worth it. He was done with Mrs. Styles, who was going to be changing her last name back to her maiden name. You didn’t feel elated about it all, but it was nice to have that chapter over with. You’d never fully recover from the guilt of what you two had done but you couldn’t help that you’d fallen in love with him.
“Put a baby in me, Harry. Want to make you a daddy…” you moaned when he smacked his hips against yours with a thud.
And even though he was already a dad you loved saying it like that. Telling him you’d make him a daddy and he’d talk about making you a mommy and it was so hot. And truth be told, being off birth control had boosted your libido and you wanted it all the time. You hadn’t realized the way your hormones would react to going off it.
“Fuck me, sweet girl… Gonna put a ring on this finger,” he groaned as he took your left hand in his, weaving his fingers between yours and gripping your jaw with his other hand, “Gonna be such a good mommy to my babies…”
The bed under your back was creaking as he thrust and your pussy was so wet the sound would have been comical if you weren’t so gone for it. Gone for Harry.
“Mmm… get it in there deep, just like that…”
Harry rocked into you, keeping his hips glued to yours and you inhaled sharply at the pinch in your cervix. Every time he shoved himself all the way in it ached but you only wanted more and more. Loved that he was tucked into you so far that when he’d come there was less distance for his sperm to travel to get where you wanted it to end up.
“Like that, baby?” Harry looked down at you and tightened his hand around yours as you trembled and puffed out a loud moan, “Gonna come on my cock and let me fuck my babies into you?”
“Yes!”
Harry’s deep groans were egging you on. It felt so good. It always did. Harry was a good lover. The best lover.
The front of his muscled thighs were pinned against yours and when he dropped his mouth to your lips you couldn’t hold back a moment longer.
Pulsing and clenching around him as he licked into your mouth, your head was blurry and your heart was pounding and then his orgasm rocked his body as he let out a strangled cry and pumped everything he had into your tummy.
And needless to say, you were out like a light once you’d gotten cleaned up and he tucked you into bed, holding you in his arms and the conversation about what he was hiding was once again on hold.
.                 .                 .
“You’re still here?” You looked at the clock on your bedside table and over to Harry in bed who was stretching his limbs and yawning.
“Mmhmm… Took off today.”
You grinned and rolled toward him, placing your palm on his chest, “That’s nice. Is there a reason you took off?”
That look again. The one that said he was holding something in appeared and he smiled at you, his hand cupping your face, “There is a reason. Yes.”
“Okay. What is it?” You cocked your head with your eyebrows raised.
“A surprise. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“A surprise? Oh, come on! Tell me what it is!” You sat up and got to your knees with a wide grin, “You gotta tell me what’s going on!”
Harry’s soft eyes dropped down over your tits and your tummy and he grabbed your hips, bringing you down to his chest, “You don’t listen very well do you?” He swatted at your bottom making you puff out a laugh, “Said… you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Harry!” You groaned and tried to pull yourself up but he tightened his arms around you so you couldn’t budge.
“Y/n!” He mocked your voice and you laughed at his attempt at speaking in your tone.
“If I give you a blowie will you tell me?”
Harry sat quietly for a moment and let out a breath, “I’ll tell you regardless. You just gotta be patient. But I’ll take a blowie if you’re offering.”
Of course, that wasn’t the answer you wanted so you wound up wiggling from his arms and pulling his t-shirt on before sauntering out of the room to start the coffee.
You were anxious though. You wondered what the surprise was. Why Harry needed to take a whole day off work. What it was he’d been keeping from you…
But there was something else as well; All his recent comments about putting a ring on your finger. You thought it was possible that maybe he was going to propose too. It was no secret that he intended to keep you around. You’d both talked about ‘forever’. Obviously. What with the talk of having a baby and getting a place together.
And there was also the fact that your lease was coming up very soon. So soon it was giving you anxiety because you hadn’t really begun to look for a new apartment, outside of viewing a few houses that were for sale and Harry reassured and told you not to worry about it. You trusted him but there was that little question in the back of your mind that he was perhaps getting things set up for you without you knowing.
Those were just guesses, though. Whatever it was Harry was planning was something you were looking forward to learning.
“What should I wear for this surprise?” You held up a dress against your body as Harry entered your bedroom.
“Whatever you want. Whatever you feel best in.”
“Should I pack a bag? Bring tennis shoes? Will pictures be involved?” You were trying to get it out of him. He wasn’t giving you anything, though.
“No need to pack anything. If you want to wear tennis shoes you can. Just trust me when I say you don’t need to worry. Okay?”
Harry was wearing his typical getup. Jeans and a t-shirt so you just decided to go casual as well. But you did make sure you looked cute. Just in case pictures would be part of the surprise.
He was excited to show you what he’d done. He hoped you didn’t freak out. There were moments when he thought he should have you involved but he wanted to surprise you. Wanted to make it special. He didn’t get lots of chances to do things like this with you. And maybe he’d gone a little overboard on this but he’d committed and couldn’t back out now.
Your mind raced with the possibilities of what he had planned. You felt like it was something big. You braced yourself to be surprised. And boy were you when you pulled into that familiar neighborhood with the cute house you looked at with Harry months before. The one with the yard he couldn’t stop talking about.
“Harry…” you warned in surprise when he pulled into the driveway of the three-bedroom house and turned off the car engine.
“What?” He raised his brows at you in question, as if he couldn’t fathom what you were surprised by.
“What is… what’s going on?”
Harry didn’t answer as he climbed out of the car and you opened the passenger door and stepped out, looking up at the house and then at Harry.
He grinned at you and reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys with a pretty pink and silver key chain that read, “Home Sweet Home.”
You covered your mouth when he placed the keys in your hand and then he nudged you toward the house, “Know you loved this place. So I bought it for us. It’s ours. Finished up all the closing of it a few days ago and took today off so we could celebrate.”
Harry had his own set of keys as he unlocked the door and opened it up for you to enter first. You did love the house when you first viewed it.
And now there was a table with dining chairs and a big beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center.
“I’ve put a bed in the master bedroom already. King size. No more double bed for us, baby,” he grinned as you looked around. You were stunned that he’d gone and gotten a mortgage on a house and went through the whole process without you knowing.
“I can’t believe you did this.”
Harry stepped in front of you and pulled you into his arms, “For us. For our family. For you.”
You walked through the house again to get reacquainted. Harry had done the smallest bit of furnishing but mostly it was bare. Ready to be furnished and decorated. The bedroom he had nearly ready. The bed was huge and it had sheets and fluffy blankets atop, a dresser, and a side table on both sides. The ensuite had towels and he’d bought soap and lotion. But when he brought you down to the kitchen the fridge was mostly empty but there was a container of something (something sweet he said) along with a bottle of champagne.
Of course, Harry popped the bottle and pulled out two champagne flutes from the cupboard and you clinked glasses before sipping the bubbly drink.
“To me and you. To forever. I love you,” he spoke as he took your hand in his and lifted it up to kiss your knuckles.
“I love you too, Harry. I know I’ve been really quiet but I’m just processing all this. It’s a shock. But I’m so happy. I can’t believe it.”
You carried your glass of champagne with you into the backyard, which still looked terrible, but it was spacious and Harry shared with you his vision again. What it could look like…
You watched him wave his arms around as he kept looking at you as he spoke, “And this… we can just have a nice patch of flowers. The shade is perfect here and it’ll really brighten up this corner. The tree will need trimmed back but it’s going to be perfect to hang a swing off of and little string lights for nighttime. We’ll put some outdoor furniture on the patio after I clean it all up. Trim out the weeds and fill in the spaces that got overgrown…”
A soft smile covered your face as you watched how excited he was. You were excited too, though. Everything was perfect for you two in that moment. You had the love of your life with you and he had bought a house to make a home in. A place he wanted to share with you. A man you trusted and found yourself falling more in love with every day.
You placed your glass down on the brick ledge near the patio and stepped in front of Harry as he was still yammering on about what he would do with the space and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his pecs, “I love it, Harry. It’s perfect.”
And your hormones were raging as you inhaled his scent and he squeezed his strong arms around you. It didn’t help that he kept talking about children running around, what with you ovulating like you were. You had been keeping close track of it and after months of being off birth control, you were finally starting to feel like your body was adjusting to its natural cycle.
Tilting your head back to look up at him you saw him already looking down at you, “Let’s go test out that bed.”
And now it was Harry’s hormones that were raging. He practically dragged you to the master bedroom and you found yourself testing out the bed just as you asked.
“How do you like it?” Harry panted as he sunk into you over and over again.
You were out of breath as you squeaked out a sound of approval.
“That good huh? Gonna make me a daddy? Gonna let me fill you up with babies, Y/n?”
Harry wasn’t gentle as he pumped into you, harsh thuds against you where he’d grind down every time he buried himself into the hilt. He pulled back, nearly completely out before snapping his hips forward into yours. He set the most delicious cadence, thick shaft filling you and rearranging your insides.
When he slowed down he dropped his mouth against yours, rolling into your wet pussy.
“I’m ovulating,” you breathed against his mouth. You were finally able to speak now that he was fucking into you more languidly.
Harry parted from the kiss with a filthy grin on his face, “Is that right little girl? I get to fuck my come into your fertile pussy?”
“Mmm… yes sir… fuck me til it sticks. Want it so bad. Want your babies and your come…”
The new bed was sturdy, unlike the old one at your apartment. No squeaking or creaking or headboard ramming into the walls… just the sound of your creamy pussy wrapped around Harry’s fat cock and the slap of skin.
It was an excellent way to celebrate the purchase of the new house. A little champagne and a good fucking in the new bed… and hopefully it would end with you pregnant.
You’d never had baby fever or whatever this was. But something about Harry just did it for you. You wanted him in every way. Wanted to show everyone how he was yours, that you’d won, that no one could come between you two. Logically you understood the flaw of that thinking, but logic flew out the window every time he was balls deep; that masculine body over yours, his deep voice saying filthy sweet things in your ear, and his big cock that had you hooked since that first day at your apartment all that time ago.
“Oh my god, baby… look a’that…” Harry shifted himself and lifted your hips so you could glimpse the way he was filling you slowly and pulling back, shiny arousal coating his shaft, “Made for each other.” He began to thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rolled into you, eyes on the action happening where you were connected “Feels good doesn’t it?”
You nodded, “You always feel so good, Harry. I need you…”
He moaned, “I know, baby… I need you too.”
You rocked your hips into his hand as he continued fucking into you until he moved again, tilting himself over you and taking the back of your neck in his big palm, and pressing his lips to yours.
Harry’s hips were glued to yours as he pushed into you, ensuring he stayed nice and deep, massaging your inner walls with every thrust in. The pressure of your orgasm built and built as he lapped his tongue against yours and tucked his cock deeper and deeper until he was no longer rearing back, his pelvis rolling over your clit.
Soft whimpers and pants were muffled from your mouth as he kept your lips occupied with his own.
His thrusts were becoming sloppier as he pressed himself to you and you could feel him trembling. When he moaned against your mouth and rutted in smooth and deep he hit something achy, you simply came undone. Harry had to lift his mouth from yours as you moaned and he gasped at the way you were gripping him and pulsing around him until he couldn’t hold back and pumped into you, stuffing you with his come.
It was a favorite. The feel of his throbbing cock releasing inside you. That way you knew your pussy was siphoning every drop from him and how good your cunt felt on him. His soft whimpered moans as he stilled his hips against yours and twitched until he was milked dry, balls properly drained.
Lying in bed together, limbs wrapped up and sweaty bodies breathing and flushed hot post-orgasm you turned to look at him and lifted your knee, draping your thigh over his hip, “I love you.”
Harry moaned and opened his eyes and pulled at you, his arms wrapping around you, “I love you, baby.”
“I’m pretty sure that was it.”
Harry turned his eyes and looked at you, “What was it?”
You grinned and drew your hand up his strong chest, “Well, we’ll see… but I think you just got me pregnant.”
Harry laughed and you giggled with him. Mostly it was just a tease. You’d have no way of really knowing at that point. But something in your gut told you that there was a good chance of it.
“And what makes you think of all the times we’ve gone at it since you’ve been off birth control that this was the one?”
“Well… it’s been months since I got off birth control and for the past couple of weeks I’ve really been more in tune with my body because of it and my ovulation cycle is starting to get to normal and today my insides were aching and I knew the only thing that would make me feel better was to orgasm and that’s because I’m ovulating.”
Harry grinned and ran his thumb over your neck, “Well I fucked you this morning after coffee, baby. Maybe the one from this morning got you knocked up.”
Biting your lip you slid yourself over Harry and straddled his lap, taking his hands and bringing his palms up to cup your tits, “Either way… feel this?” You squeezed around his hands over your tender breasts, “Haven’t had swollen breasts in a really long time. The ovulation is strong this month. And today it’s at its height. My whole body wants to be pregnant.”
The soft gaze on Harry’s face as he looked into your eyes was full of affection and love as he pressed over your nipples, “Extra fertile today, yeah? Then let me recover a bit and I’ll fuck you again. Just in case third time’s a charm, ya know?”
You laughed, “I mean the day is still early. I think I’m gonna need lots of orgasms today to feel better and you’re just the man to give them to me. Plus, we need to celebrate properly.”
He pulled you down, pressing your chest against his, and groped the globes of your ass in his hands, “Well sounds like I’m gonna have to go buy sparkling grape juice for you, huh Mama?”
You both cackled loudly as soon as he said it. And you both understood it was just post-sex hormones talking in that moment. But you’d know soon enough if your intuition was right. You hoped it was.
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leviscolwill · 7 months
Text
adore
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader
summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]
contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?
note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶
now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...
"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."
"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."
your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.
the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.
when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.
"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.
"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.
"i'm-"
"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.
"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.
"is that your boyfriend?"
"ummm, no he's my-"
"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.
"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.
"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.
"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.
"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.
"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.
"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.
the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.
immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.
even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.
"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.
"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.
you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.
thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.
you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.
you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.
you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.
"is it gonna hurt?"
"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.
"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.
you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.
"you're so pretty..."
if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.
"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.
"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.
you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.
"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.
"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.
you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.
he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.
once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.
you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.
"no thanks, i'm not hungry."
"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.
"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.
you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.
but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.
"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.
"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.
"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.
you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.
"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."
you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.
"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?
he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?
"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?
"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?
"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.
"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.
if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.
once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.
you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.
when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.
jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.
you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.
after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.
it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.
no answer.
there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.
you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.
"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.
"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.
"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"
it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.
but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.
it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.
once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.
let's just keep doing what you did all day
i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened
probably best for us :)
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nervouseden · 1 month
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Bucky being Bucky in bed.
(How I think he'd act)
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Warnings! NSFW. Soft!Dom!Bucky. Choking. Light power play. Pet names (Amare(love), doll, baby). Fingering. Unprotected sex (DON'T DO ITS BAD). Praise. Sweet!Bucky. Grinding. Fluff. Light aftercare.
Bucky is a massive tease, making you wait, making you squirm, making you beg, all just because he likes to see what he does to you.
Bucky would spread soft kisses all along your body, starting from your face, going down your neck, to your abdomen, and so forth.
Bucky's kisses often get more intense as he works his way down your body, practically sucking on your skin by the time he's at your hips and thighs. "Fuck, Doll, you taste so good."
Bucky loves wrapping his Vibranium hand around your throat, squeezing his metal fingers and thumb at the sides of your throat just enough to cut off a little oxygen and heighten your senses and pleasure, but never enough to actually hurt you. He cares too much.
Bucky would always take his time warming you up, spitting on his hand, slowly stretching you with his finger, then adding another just as you start to get comfortable with the first.
He curls his fingers inside you, speeding them up and adding a third, holding your hips down with his metal hand, leaving faint red marks that will turn to light bruises he'll tease later on.
Bucky groans low in his throat, loving the way you feel around his fingers, but needing you around his cock. Now.
Bucky suddenly pulls his fingers from you, spitting on his cock, the tip against your entrance. "Are you ready, amare?"
When you give him permission, he starts to carefully prod his cock at your hole, slowly pushing in inch by inch, watching you for any discomfort or pain, gently rubbing your neck and shoulders in a comforting gesture.
Once Bucky's fully inside you, he stills his hips, giving you time to adjust as he leans down and peppers small kisses along your face and neck, whispering words of encouragement.
"You feel so good,"
"So fuckin' perfect,"
"You're doing incredible, taking me so well."
"Love how you feel, darling..."
Bucky starts to slowly rock his hips, making small thrusts, careful not to hurt you. He'd never want to hurt you, you're his everything.
As Bucky feels you adjust, he softly speaks. "Remember our safe word?" Only when you say yes, does he start to actually move, his cock starting to slide a little bit deeper with each thrust.
His hips move against yours in rhythmic motions, pumping into your body fast and pulling out slowly, before pumping in again.
Bucky leans down again to kiss your lips as his hips speed up even more. "Feels s'good..." He praises, his flesh hand on your hip, warm and soft as it rubs circles on your smooth skin.
Bucky sucks on your lower thighs as he continues to plow into you, his flesh hand wrapping around one of your thighs as his vibranium hand wraps loosely around your neck. "I wanna feel you cum, amare..."
Bucky trails kisses down your neck and jaw, sucking on the skin behind your collarbone as he feels both of you getting closer.
He lifts your legs, putting your thighs flesh against his chiseled chest, kissing the flesh as your calves hang over his shoulders, his cock scraping deeper into you with the new angle.
His breath is ragged now, feeling both of you teetering on the edge of release. Bucky leans even further down, bending your thighs with him as he bites into your shoulder, squeezing your throat even tighter as he thrusts harder.
Bucky feels you squeeze around his cock your climax hitting you, and that's all it takes. A low, animalistic growl leaves him as he pulls out of your body replacing his cock with his flesh fingers, cumming on your chest, stomach, and pelvis as he grinds his cock against your thigh.
He shudders and moans, moving his fingers inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm as he releases your shoulder from his teeth, softly sucking and kissing the sting away from it.
Once you start coming down from your high, he slows his fingers, smiling softly at you. "You did so good, Doll." Bucky kisses your lips softly, his own gentle and affectionate.
He pulls back from your lips, resting his forehead against yours, smiling, and staring into your eyes. "You feelin' okay?"
Bucky smiles at you, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheek, your chin, your other cheek, then pulls your left hand up to kiss each knuckle, then does the same with your right. "I'm so proud of you, you were so good for me, baby."
He moves off of you, reaching to the bedside table, grabbing a baby wipe. "Just gonna clean you up a little, that alright?"
Once you give permission to Bucky, he smiles, taking the baby wipe, gently wiping the cum and excess sweat from your chest, tummy, pelvis, and entrance, making sure to be both cautious and meticulous.
After Bucky cleans you up, he throws the wipe away and crawls back into bed with you, lightly kissing each bruise and hickey he made on your hips, thighs, and neck. "You look so incredible, Baby."
Bucky then lies down next to you on his back, pulling you onto his chest. He plays with your hair with his flesh hand, while his metal hand rubs small circles on your back. "I love you, Doll."
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499 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 3 months
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Come Back, Be Here (finale)
Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.7k
p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8
CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N
A/N: Holy. Friggen. Crap. WHAT A RIDE! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story with me - it has truly felt like the most niche book club and I have had so much fun chatting with you all. Feel free to send in requests for these lovely characters in the CBBH universe - I'd love to continue playing with them! xx
Lily and James Potter returned to 12 Grimmauld place on the 3rd of November – Sirius’ birthday. There were long hugs, a lot of tears and soft dinner conversation, but there would be no gifts or raucous celebrating. 
Regulus Black was arrested at Malfoy Manor as a marked Death Eater, but with the backing of James, Sirius and Dumbledore, the Ministry allowed Regulus to be placed on house arrest, confiscating his wand whilst he awaited trial. Dumbledore assured the group that because of Regulus’ defection, his support of the Order, and the memories that Dumbledore, you, and those who were present on October 31st provided the Ministry, Regulus would likely be acquitted of his charges, or at the very least receive a lighter sentence. 
Tom Riddle was quickly charged with treason, tyranny, countless charges of the use of unforgiveables, countless charges of leading or causing the death of wizards, witches, and muggles, countless charges of torture and brutality, eliciting fear and chaos, and illegal use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss and the act was carried out on the 5th of November. 
Peter Pettigrew did indeed receive a fair trial for his role in the Wizarding War. He was questioned under Veritaserum, and it was found that he was guilty of treason, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, the use of Dark Magic, and sexual assault and brutality. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.
Lucius Malfoy came looking for his son and was thus arrested by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the charge of being a marked Death Eater. He was questioned under Veritaserum which proved Lucius was guilty of harboring dangerous criminals, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, and the use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His property and vault at Gringott’s were seized by the Ministry and, after taking what was owed for reparations, was placed into his son’s name. 
The Ministry respected Narcissa Malfoy’s dying wish and placed Draco Malfoy in the care of Sirius Black and Y/N L/N. The Ministry offered the couple access to the Malfoy vault to support Draco’s upbringing, but they opted to leave it aside for the child to choose what to do with the fortune when he was of age.
Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral took place on the 7th of November. The blustery November air accosted the patrons which mostly consisted of Order members and a few of Narcissa’s friends who were able to dodge persecution for their roles or complacency in the war. She was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously for her role - a title she now shared with you, Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, and later Regulus along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco left his mother a beautiful bouquet of narcissus, baby’s breath, lavender, and pink camelia’s. You and Sirius gave her a bouquet of edelweiss, fern, and gladioli. Blue hydrangeas and hyssops came from Regulus who was unable to attend due to the nature of his house arrest but were placed at Narcissa’s headstone by Lily and Harry in the family plot of Malfoy Manor. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks stood by you, Sirius, and Draco at the headstone during the funeral service as Dumbledore spoke of the bravery, loyalty, and dedication Narcissa showed not only to her son and her family, but to the greater wizarding world on the 31st of October. 
“There is not one witch or wizard amongst us today that does not owe Narcissa Black Malfoy a considerable debt. Without her bravery and cunningness, evil could very well have prospered, dooming us all to life of immense pain and suffering. She dreamed of a legacy - of a better future - for her own son as well as for every child of wizard kind. Narcissa was a beyond bright student during her time at Hogwarts, a strong leader in her social circle, a skilled healer during the war, and an incredibly brave soldier. Though, possibly her favourite and certainly her greatest role was that of a loving mother; for she died to ensure that her son would live to see a better tomorrow. Narcissa Black Malfoy is the type of person, friend, partner, and parent that each of us should aspire to be. May her legacy of love and loyalty live eternally.” He said as he raised his wand.
One by one, every person present raised their wand to the heavens in honour of Narcissa Malfoy and her sacrifice to the wizarding world. Draco, Harry and Nymphadora, along with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom who did not yet have their own wands raised a narcissus flower in solidarity.
The remaining marauders, you, Lily, and Regulus did indeed stay at 12 Grimmauld place for some time. The house was unrecognizable from the time Regulus and Sirius spent growing up there; it was bright, it was colourful, it was full of children’s laughter and squealing, it was a place people liked to come to visit, and it was chock full of love. 
The problem with the new and improved Grimmauld Place? 
Your tribe quickly outgrew it. 
As time went on, your memories seemed to return to you basically in full, and the full extent of your trauma reared its ugly head. For years you became hyper-focused on knowing where each member of your family was at any given moment, and a panic attack threatened any moment you didn’t have everyone important to you within your periphery. The Third Worst Day™ of Sirius’ life (in chronological order, the first being the day he almost ruined things between you two, the next being the day you ‘died’) was the day Lily and James suggested to you, him, Remus, and Regulus that they should perhaps fix up Potter Manor and move their ever-growing family there. It was partly the worst day because of how the idea of James and Lily moving away made him feel, but it was mostly because of the mental breakdown you had at the news. 
“You can’t! You can’t do this! I just got you back, we just got each other back. You can’t do this!” You shouted as everyone tried to get you to breathe. The numerous hands approaching you placatingly was in fact not what you needed at the moment, and you fell into a manic state.
Needless to say, the suggestion was not met well by you, and ended with you being admitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. Sirius sat at your bedside with your hand in his, Lily and James in chairs across from him whilst Regulus and Remus stayed home and watched the children. 
“I cannot live without any of you anymore. I’m sorry, but I refuse. I can’t do it.” Sirius admitted quietly to his friends as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.
You had been dosed heavily with calming draught and dreamless sleep in order to prevent any seizure activity, which you became plagued with due to the trauma of the brain from memory retention and prevention throughout the war. 
“I can’t either.” James admitted, causing Lily to turn and face him.
“I’m sorry Lil’s, I know-” he cut himself off to take a steadying breath. “I know when we got married, you probably imagined us living at the Manor or maybe in another place as independent adults. After we lost mum and dad, I’m sure you imagined us taking that over in their place, and I think I wanted that too, but now, knowing what we know, I would have done things differently. I wish we had moved in with mum and dad and been there to enjoy their last few years with them. We had our own flat at the time and Moony, Pads, and Vix had theirs and I was so lucky that I got to spend as much time with Vixen as I did, being her order partner and all, but then she was gone, and I regretted ever spending a single moment away from her. Now...now I’m afraid that every second I don’t spend with you – all of you, any of you, my family – is a second wasted and I don’t want to waste another precious second. Not anymore. Not ever again.” 
Lily looked imploringly at her husband.
“You really are a bell-end.” She muttered fondly.
“Pardon me?”
“Do you really think I imagined us living alone in that big ass manor just us and our kids? What part of that do you think appeals to me? I love you, James, but a girl needs backup to deal with the likes of you.” 
Sirius and James exchanged a bemused glance before Lily continued.
“I want to live the rest of my life with my family. That’s you, James, and our kids, but it’s also Sirius and Y/N, it’s Remus and Regulus and Draco. Hell, if Alice and Frank or Marlene and Dorcas told me they wanted to move in I’d happily help them pack the boxes.” She laughed as she looked at you and Sirius’ intertwined hands.
“I think we’re all going to be stuck with one another until the end of time.” James said as he pulled his wife into his side.
Sirius smiled greatly at them. “Until all the mischief is managed.”
After that, the friends all agreed that none of them were willing to part from the group, and if for whatever reason anyone felt the need for more privacy, they would opt to build an outbuilding on the property.
“Oi! You’ve gotta knock, Prongs! Fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius had shouted as he hastily pulled the sheets up around the two of you.
“Uhm, maybe you’ve gotta lock the door, Pads.” James muttered with a mouthful of muffin as he came in to sit on the edge of the bed, completely unperturbed by the fact that the two of you were still naked and very recently involved in unmentionable deeds. 
Nevertheless, no one ever felt the need to build their own place on the property.
And Sirius made sure James got a taste of his own medicine a time or two after that incident.
Lily Evans Potter did indeed contact Healer Grundke at the end of the war and was brought on to work under her as an intern whilst she worked toward getting her Healer license. She spent many years in general medicine before moving fulltime to labour and delivery. Sirius often teased her that between the number of days she has spent in labour & delivery as a patient and as a doctor, he was surprised any of their other friends ever saw her. 
His nose was charmed green for a week.
Regulus Black was eventually acquitted of his crimes. He was placed on a sort of life-long probation in the form of a tracking spell on his wand that would alert the Ministry of him ever practicing Dark Magic. He opted to stay with his brother and his friends though he pretended to hate every minute of it. In truth, Regulus found great joy in being an uncle to Sirius’ and James’ children and Godfather to his best friend’s daughter Luna Lovegood. He declined the opportunity to join the Wizengamot, stating that as the rightful heir to the Black name, Sirius should be the one to take the Black’s seat.
Sirius Black, in Sirius Black fashion, dramatically refuted this idea. He did not want to pick up the mantle that was laid for him by the generations of Black’s before him; he refused to sit in the nearly still warm seat that his father had left. It took Regulus, Remus, and Lily all to tell him how much good he could do by not only bringing in a younger generation’s perspective to the Wizengamot, but as a wealthy heir to a pureblood line, a war hero, and an advocate for werewolf and muggleborn rights, he could bridge the gap between the left and right-wing members of the court.
It also helped that you had told him he’d be the only one capable of making the robes look punk rock. 
James Potter opted to be a stay-at-home dad and uncle to care for the children living at Potter Manor. The Potter vaults had enough money in them to last his family multiple lifetimes without every making a dent, and with the money Lily was making as a healer, there was no need to be worried financially. Also, being a kid at heart made him the absolute best friend of any child who met him. As the children grew older, he and Mrs. Weasley worked together to homeschool the children of the Order until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.
Remus Lupin, never one willing to ride on his friend’s coat tails, spent the first few months following the war applying to various jobs through out Wizarding London. He had hoped that between his stellar academic record, his time spent as a prefect and tutor, his Order of Merlin, and his dedication to the winning side of the Wizarding War, that he would be able to secure a job within wizarding society. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world still had a long way to go with the prejudice it held for werewolves. Walking through Diagon Alley feeling sorry for himself, Remus spotted a “for lease” sign in the window of what used to be a pet store. He immediately sent an owl to the landlord and asked for a meeting. 
Though Remus tried to refuse, Sirius and James insisted on investing in Remus’ planned bookstore.
“I’m not borrowing money, Prongs.” Remus muttered defiantly.
“It’s not borrowing, Moons! It’s an investment! If anything, you’ll be making me more money.” He exclaimed excitedly.
“Moony, please,” Sirius added...well, seriously, “think of how pissed off my ancestors would be to know I’m investing their money in a half-blood werewolf’s business which happens to stock muggle literature?” 
With a mischievous smirk, the deal was settled, and the lease was signed. 
Remus wasted no time to get started at the bookstore. He walked into the small storefront and conjured a broom, deciding to start by sweeping up the hay and owl droppings.
No sooner had he started did he hear the door chime. 
“Oh! My apologies, we’re not quite open yet.” Remus offered as he made his way to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Regulus standing in the entry.
“I should hope not. This place looks awful.” Regulus commented with a wrinkled nose.
You elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“Looks like you could use some help.” You said cheerily as you held out a stack of papers. Remus took them gently to find your CV and cover letter. Before Remus could even look up, Regulus dropped his on top of yours in Remus’ hand.
“All my references are either dead or in prison so.” He offered with a shrug.
“I’ll vouch for him.” You said.
You were smiling at him so kindly and so sweetly, Remus wanted to cry. You had always been his biggest supporter; championing him through every milestone in Remus’ life. He was certain he didn’t deserve even half of the love you gave him, but he was eternally grateful for every drop of it.
“Thank you, guys.” Remus said wetly as he pulled the two of you in for a hug. Regulus groaned the entire time but when Remus finally pulled away, he had a slight blush. 
“Yeah, yeah. Well, what is family for?” He muttered which elicited a sharp gasp from you and a bark of laugh from Remus.
“Don’t be going soft on us now, Black!” Remus said with a laugh and ruffled his hair. 
“Fuck you guys, clean this barn up on your own.” He grumbled as he turned to leave, but the two of you wouldn’t let him.
He was grateful that you didn’t. 
Sirius eventually proposed to you – though beg was likely a more appropriate definition.
“We should get married.” He had said to you late one night as he came back to the bedroom after putting Draco down. 
You lowered your book into your lap as you considered him. “I beg your pardon?”
“We should get married.” He repeated plainly.
Your lip threatened to quirk into a smirk, but you kept your face blank. “And why should we get married?”
Sirius guffawed at you. “Uhm, maybe because we’re in love? And I’m the best and would be the best husband?”
You continued to stare at him.
“Why shouldn’t we get married?” He asked, now beginning to panic.
“I never said we shouldn’t.”
“Then why won’t you marry me?” He shrilled as he moved to kneel at the end of the bed.
“You’re the first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning and my last thought at night before I fall asleep. Fuck, you make up the majority of my dreams too. Did you know that? Did you know that I go to the Ministry and count down the minutes until I get to see you again? Did you know that when you’re at work, I spend my time thinking about what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, what they’re saying to you and you to them? And not in a stalkery way, I swear. But I just think you’re the coolest fucking person ever and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to listen to you speak when I’m stuck at home or at work. And I watch you with Draco -our sweet boy - and our Godson and the other children and I get fucking giddy thinking that I get to spend the rest of my days with a woman so lovely. So, marry me. Marry me, damnit!”
It was a battle to keep your face straight but by the absolute grace of God you did before saying “Siri, babe, you’re coming off a little desperate.”
There was a brief pause before you got a “you cheeky little minx” and 45 seconds of tickling which turned into kissing which turned into touching which turned into so much more.
You were sticky and satisfied as you both caught your breath, still intertwined with one another when you said, “I will.”
“Hm?”
“I will.” You repeated as you leaned onto your elbow so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ll marry you. Marry me.”
Sirius stared at you in awe before pulling you down into his embrace for a searing kiss which once again turned into so much more. 
And you guys did. Marry each other, that is. It was a beautiful spring day on the grounds of Potter Manor with only your closest family and friends. It was perhaps a touch smaller than what either you or Sirius grew up picturing your wedding to be, but it was so much better than either of you could have ever imagined.
“...I thank my lucky stars every day that I get to love such a wonderful woman. There’s not one person in this world who deserves to know the likes of you, me least of all, but will do everything I can to ensure I get to keep what little light you’re willing to share with me forever. I have already loved you in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, and in life and in death. There is not one planet in any universe, nor a timeline that exists where my love for you does not. I vow to you that you will never spend a day in this life not being loved by me. Wherever you go, I go; in this life and the next.” Sirius said through his tears. 
With a smile you began your own vows. “Sirius, I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to witness you become the man you are today. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but I have seen you through it all; the good, the bad, the really bad, and the ugly. And I have loved you through all of it. As I laid dying, I told James that I didn’t regret a single moment of this life with you, and that is still true today. Every moment, all the blood, sweat, and tears, brought us here today - and I would still do all of it again if it meant getting to stand here today by your side. I made a vow that I would find you in our next life and I would love you there too. Well, here I am. I found you. I will always find you.”
Lily, Marlene, and Alice stood by your side, and James, Remus, and Regulus stood by Sirius’ as your magic was bound together, and you were pronounced husband and wife.
Sirius hung the framed parchment that Remus had found in the wooded area where he first met Regulus in his office. The note symbolized your dedication to him, to your friends and family, and your unyielding perseverance. The parchment was later joined by your wedding pictures, drawings that he and Harry had painted back in Grimmauld place as well as pictures Harry and Draco had given him since, and the first ever check he received for his investment in A Marauder’s Map to Books. 
You loved working at Moony’s bookstore; everyday felt like getting to hang out with your best friends even though you pretty much lived with them as well. It was nice to see Remus and Regulus in a setting outside of the parental/guardian role you’d all taken on following the war. You were surprised at first (though you supposed you should have known better) that Remus and Regulus worked really well together – Regulus’ uptight and serious façade was well balanced with Remus’ laidback and jovial personality. Regulus would handle the more difficult customers whilst Remus made sure every customer who came in felt welcome. Things often fell by the wayside or got overlooked when Remus was away due to the moons, and Regulus was quick to pick up the slack. Regulus would often get too caught up in work and forget to stay fed or hydrated, which Remus counteracted by briskly walking past Regulus and placing biscuits and cups of tea brewed exactly to Regulus’ liking before he could refuse. If you noticed Regulus’ cheeks tinge peak and a shy smile grace his lips – you didn’t mention it. 
Draco grew to be a very happy child; you and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride every time that boy giggled or laughed. You kept your word and left the Malfoy vaults untouched save twice a year when Narcissa would purchase a gift for Draco on June 5th and December 25th. 
He was such a good son and an even better big brother. 
Draco was the most jealous of Harry when Harry became a big brother to his sister Jasmine Potter. It was hard not to chuckle at how proud the four-and-a-half-year-old was as he bragged about being the ‘bestest big brother’ and watching Draco skulk around the house. 
“I could be a big brother! Really, I could. I’d be so nice and gentle, and I would share all my toys!” He told you and Sirius solemnly as you tucked him in to bed. You assured him he would indeed be a wonderful big brother, but not to worry about it too much as you were sure Lily and James could use two big brothers for their newest addition. 
You both gave him kisses goodnight and closed the door behind you. You’d hardly made it two steps from the door before your husband had you pushed up against the wall. 
“I could be a really good daddy too, you know?” He whispered into your neck before starting to suck on your pulse point.
You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. “Are you trying to tell me something?” 
Sirius kissed his way back up your jaw before slotting his lips against yours. “Perhaps we should give the kid what he wants.” He managed between kisses.
You chuckled.
“He gets everything he wants already, Siri.” You whispered back as you pulled his body flush with yours.
“What about me, hm?”
You pulled your head back to search his face. “Do you want another baby, Sirius?”
Sirius’ pupils seemed to blow wide at the sentiment. “I don’t so much want a baby as I want your baby, my love.” He whispered reverently.
Your restraint snapped and you launched yourself at him. He caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.  
Approximately ten months later you gave birth to your daughter Aurora Black.
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September 1st, Kings Cross Station
“Merlin’s saggy balls, how do you – for fuck sa– oh, got it!” Sirius could be heard behind you as he fought with the pram. 
“Would you watch your mouth?” Lily muttered.
“Yeah Pads, watch your fuckin’ mouth!” James loudly announced causing other parents to look over at the absolute freak show that was the Potter & Black family’s stepping onto Platform 9 ¾.
“Sorry.” You offered with a quiet smile to a particularly perturbed looking couple as they grabbed their smarmy looking child and ushered him away from the likes of you. “Wankers.” You muttered as they hobbled off.
“Who’s a wanker, mum?” Draco asked as he slid up beside you. The rotten child knew he wasn’t supposed to use such language but couldn’t pass the chance at getting to repeat your nasty comment.
“Presently, it’s you.” You commented while teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. 
“Oi, leave your poor mum alone! You’re buggering off to Hogwarts and leaving her with the likes of me for the next ten months.” Sirius said as he (finally) made his way to you with the pram in tow. The three-year-old twins seemed none the wiser that they just nearly got folded into the damned thing and thrown onto the tracks in a fit of rage. 
“My deepest condolences during this trying time.” Draco offered you severely.
Sirius scoffed and you laughed as you pulled him into an embrace. You were waiting for the day he pushed you away because hugging your mom goodbye in front of your friends was embarrassing. But today, you relished in the feeling of your first child letting you hold him tight.
“I’m so proud of you, Draco.” You murmured into his platinum hair.
“Thank you, mum.” He responded quietly. 
“Draco! Harry! Over here!” The sound of Hermione Granger interrupted your hug as Draco turned to wave at his friends. 
“Be good kid, okay? Look out for your sister?” Sirius asked as he pulled Draco into his own embrace.
“’Course, dad. I’m not new here.” He teased as he ruffled Aurora’s hair.
“Draaaccoooo...” She whined in response.
“Go see ‘Mione.” You ordered Draco with one last side hug. Harry and Draco swapped parents and siblings to give their respective goodbyes before heading off to catch up with their friends. 
“Are you ready, Rory?” Jasmine Potter asked your daughter kindly. She was a year above Aurora and was very excited to get the chance to show her younger cousin around the castle. 
Your daughter looked between her cousin and her parents before Sirius spoke up. “Jazz, do you mind giving us a minute?” He asked his Goddaughter.  
Jasmine turned to talk to James and Lily who were busy entertaining Posie and Lyra as you and Sirius bent down to talk to Aurora.
“What’s on your mind, love?” You asked your daughter gently.
Your heart welled as Aurora’s eyes turned glassy.
“I’m not ready.”
Sirius made a cooing sound as he wiped the tears from under her lash line. “What are you most worried about, my little star?”
Aurora sniffled miserably. “What if I’m sorted into the wrong house?”
You and Sirius couldn’t help but rear your head at the comment. Out of all the things you thought would be worrying your daughter on her first day of boarding school, which house she got sorted into was not it.
“Rory, that’s the exciting part baby.” You tried as you rubbed her arm consolingly.
“I get it, Ro, I was worried about which house I was going to be sorted into as well.” Sirius commented.
Aurora rubbed a fist against her eye as she turned to consider her father. “Really?”
Sirius nodded solemnly. “Really. You see, I came from a long line of proud Slytherins. I was supposed to get sorted into that house too, because I was supposed to be just like them. But I couldn’t be like them, I could only be like me. So, I was sorted in Gryffindor, even though my family didn’t like it.” 
“Did you get in trouble?”
Sirius nodded sadly. “I did.”
“But Ro, you know that no matter what house you get sorted into, me and daddy are going to be so, so, so proud of you. And we’ll be proud of you because you’re you, not because you were sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Slytherin.” You added with a soft smile.
Aurora seemed to consider this. “Well, Harry and Jazzy are in Gryffindor, and Draco is in Slytherin. I’d like to be in one of those I think.”
You nodded at her, but it was Sirius who answered.
“That’d be pretty cool, huh? But listen, I met the most fantastic people in my house even though I knew no one in it when I first got sorted. Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony were my dormmates for seven years and look at us now! Completely co-dependent and still living together.”
“What is co-dependent?” Aurora asked with furrowed brows.
“Not important. What I’m trying to say is, Rory, you are going to give that hat a run for its money, you know why?” Sirius asked.
Aurora shook her head.
“Because you are your mother’s daughter. And she is the the most loyal, the most cunning, the bravest and the smartest person I know. You’ve been raised by the most spectacular person, and any one of those houses will be lucky to have you. Got it?”
You watched as Rory took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before offering her dad a solid nod.
“Atta girl!” He said as he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her head. “You show that sorting hat who’s boss.” 
Aurora chuckled as she moved to hug you.
“I’m so proud of you, my love.” You said into her hair. She tightened her hold on you before letting go and stepping back.
“I think we’re ready for you, Jazzy.” You called, and the older girl came and took Aurora’s hand as they headed towards Draco and Harry to board the train.
James and Sirius wolf whistled and hollered, waving frantically as they watched the kids walk away. Hermione, Harry and Draco chuckled while Neville and Ron turned beat red at the attention.
You propped Lyra on your hip and the two of you continued to wave as the train pulled away. None of you stopped waving until you couldn’t see your babies anymore.
A sob tore its way through James, and you looked over to see Lily making alarmed eye contact with you as she awkwardly patted his arm and he and Sirius leaned into each other.
“First time?” An older woman asked as she went to walk past you.
“No” was yours and Lily’s chorused response as you peeled your husband away from his best mate and moved him toward the pram where your youngest two sat forgotten. 
“Lord, is it going to be this bad every time we send one of the kids off the first time?”
“It’ll be worse!” Sirius cried emphatically as he fell into your arms, basically crushing poor Lyra who was still sat on your hip. You looked over to Lily hoping for help only to see her in a similar predicament. 
“Sirius Black, at this rate our youngest three won’t ever want to come back to Kings Cross Station.” You muttered as you moved Lyra to your other hip so you could support your husband’s weight.
“Good! Then they’ll never leave me!” 
Your heart twinged as you patted Sirius’ back.
“Siri, look at me.” 
For a moment you thought he might refuse, but he unfolded himself slowly and stood to look at you. 
“This is what we fought for, my love.” You said as you caressed his cheek. “So that our babies could go to Hogwarts and learn and be children and be free and be safe.”
“I still hate it.”
You laughed at his petulance. “Me too, actually. Do you think Hogwarts is hiring? What if we all just move there?”
“Great idea, Vix!” James cheered from beside you, eyes rimmed and cheeks glistening. “Lily flower could work in the infirmary, Padfoot could teach astronomy, you could teach muggle studies, I could teach flying, Moony could teach defence against the dark arts and Regulus could teach potions! It’s perfect!”
Though you had to admit this plan of James’ actually sounded pretty perfect, your attention turned to little Posie falling asleep in Lily’s arms. 
“Why don’t we discuss this more once we get these kiddos down for a nap, hm?”
Sirius found you later sitting in the sunroom with a book in hand. He thought you made the prettiest picture sitting in the soft sun filtering through the leaves of the trees outside, plants surrounding you with your nose buried in a book. So, he took a picture. 
“I wasn’t ready!” You whined with a smile on your face.
“You’re always ready.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I was such a mess at the train station today.” He said as he lifted your legs off the loveseat to sit down and replace them atop his lap.
“You don’t have to apologize, Siri.” You said as you tapped him with your book. 
“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He commented, his gaze seemed far away as he watched the branches dance in the September breeze.
“You can do that tomorrow.” You whispered back.
A smile graced his face before he turned to look at you. “I love you; did you know? I don’t think I say it enough, but I do; I love you.”
He punctuated his sentence with three loving squeezes of the fat of your thigh.
“Sirius. Every breath I take means ‘I love you’.” You responded and sealed it with a kiss. 
You got an owl from Draco and Aurora later that night.
Aurora was a hat stall.
She was also sorted into the same house as her mum.
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Thank you so much for reading! Can't get enough? Check out these CBBH themed one shots, or, feel free to request a one-shot from your faves in this universe!
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drewstarkeyslut · 3 months
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IN FOR IT ᡣ𐭩
ok babes, i'm literally doing something seriously out of my comfort zone. just a little something i guess....THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING so please keep that in mind + don’t come for me. i literally tried my fucking best — idk how to format or anything either so please don't judge. IM NERVOUS OK BYEE😂
Summary: rafe walks in on you masturbating, and he decides to put you to use.
Warnings: mdni nsfw 18+, oral sex (male receiving), throat fucking, daddy kink, choking.. use of slut/whore. idk what else? that's about it
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you knew rafe would be home soon but waiting was not an option right now. you already waited all morning and quite honestly you wanted to get caught because you knew the exact reaction you would get from him.
you waste no time getting comfortable and taking your clothes off in a hurry. once you were sprawled out on the couch you reach down towards your pussy and start rubbing your clit in a circular motion. the only thing on your mind was rafe’s cock balls deep in your cunt.
“yes! yes! omg! rafe right there! feels s'good” you scream out which catches rafe’s attention as he enters the living room. he just came home not even five minutes after you started. he see’s you on the couch legs spread wide open, rubbing yourself to the thought of him. rafe smirks, head shaking as he walks towards you. "what do you think you're doing y/n?"
“rafe!? you’re home earlier than usual, i—i was just…so fucking horny i needed to feel you but i just couldn't wait any longer” you whine out, slightly embarrassed at being caught for the first time yet turned on at the same time.
the look rafe had in his eyes was unreadable, making you worry. you start closing your legs as fast as you could but rafe was faster. his strong hands pry your legs wide open as far as they would go.
“shut up y/n. i really don't want to hear it. don't feed me that bullshit.” rafe grits out, towering over your naked body.
“y’know i’m going to punish you for this but a slut like you would love that wouldn’t you? couldn’t even wait for me to come home. shit, just had to touch yourself like the fucking whore you are, yeah?" rafe groans in your ear as he harshly slaps your pussy.
“ahhhh! mmmm, i’m really sorry daddy i swear, was just thinking about you, missin' you…and i got carried away, that’s all..i know i wasn't supposed to touch myself without your permission" you start rambling.
“aw how sweet, you missin’ me? that’s real damn cute but ah ah, don’t think you’re getting off the hook so easily pretty girl, you want my cock that bad huh?” rafe smirks, eyes turning dark with lust.
“yes rafe, please, i need you, need your cock.. i don’t care, just need your cum r-right now so fucking bad. i’ll do anything please, wanna be your little cumslut” you beg, giving rafe pleading eyes.
he wastes no time undoing his belt and pulling his pants down just enough for his throbbing hard cock to spring free slapping his stomach, precum already dripping from his tip. you swear you could've came just from the sight of rafes perfect cock standing at attention for you.
rafe has zero patience as he grabs you by your throat, gripping you so hard it was sure to leave a mark. he pulls you down onto the floor on your knees. he lets go of your neck with aggression it made your head throw back a bit. you were sure you were close to passing out but thankful rafe let go of your neck when he did.
“we're not going to have any problems here now are we, y/n?” you're going to be a good girl for daddy and suck yeah? ” he groans, eyes darting from your lips to his hard length.
when rafe tells you to do something you always do as you’re told honestly scared of what could happen if you didn’t listen. you really didn’t want to find out either.
“hey, listen, daddy is talking to you, be a good little slut for me hmmm?" rafe jeers as he grabs your chin making you look up at him.
“yes daddy, going to be on my best behavior” you smile up at him licking your lips.
“that's what i thought, open that pretty little mouth of yours and put it to use, stick your tongue out” rafe demands.
you obey as he slaps the tip of his cock on your tongue. his salty precum coating your tongue, making you shiver, and leaving your pussy throbbing with need. the wetness from your cunt leaking down your thighs.
too horny at this point and knowing you weren’t going to be able to cum tonight, you start working his cock with both hands, twisting and tugging while licking and sucking his cock. your filthy little mouth going far down his length, taking as much as you could before gagging.
"god, you're such a fucking slut, i bet you’re soaking wet already and i didn't even touch you. look at you getting all cock drunk like the whore you are" rafe teases.
you remove your mouth from his cock, a string of spit that connected from your mouth to his shaft coming undone, making quite the mess. you were now officially cock drunk. licking stripes up and down his cock while stroking with both hands, alternating between licking and sucking, after each deep throat making sure to add the popping sound that rafe loved so much. it drove him wild.
for a slight moment you take the time to appreciate the view in front you. rafe's cock standing at attention just for you, smothered in both spit and precum, throbbing with intense need to empty his seed.
cupping his balls, you start to massage them making rafe gasp with pleasure. “you like that daddy? when i squeeze and lick them?” you tease as you start licking at his balls, giving them a little suck. rafe’s moans filling the room. this gives you more motivation and you start to ravish his cock while caressing his balls. your tongue is going absolutely feral all over his throbbing cock.
you are sucking him with extreme passion, your head starting to go dizzy. he is a moaning mess above you, mouth open, and head tilted back. he was completely blissed out turning you on even more.
you’re going to deep you start to choke. unable to breathe you try pulling away, but rafe grabs the back of your head and thrusts deeper into your mouth.
“this dick too big for you to handle, huh?” rafe laughs. you could only nod your head in response. “fuck, you’ll be fine, come on you got it baby. just like that. feels so fuckin’ good” you look up at him with red teary eyes and drool dripping from the sides of your mouth.
“god damn, you look so beautiful like this” he groans as he slaps your cheek and pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail. he starts guiding your head back and forth on his cock, slow but deep. he was in complete euphoria.
something about you looking up at him with those innocent doe eyes had him on the edge. he plants a kiss on your forehead then grabs the back of your head once more and starts to thrust into your mouth at a sloppy pace. he was fucking your face so brutally you definitely couldn’t breathe. rafe could care less, he just wanted to empty his warm seed down your throat.
things were getting real intense. you were a moaning mess, your moans vibrating down his shaft.
“oooh shit! don’t you fucking stop! i’m—i’m gonna cum y/n, fuuuuuck!!” rafe practically screams, room filled with his loud moans. his cock starts to pulsate as warm spurts of cum shoot down your throat.
you make sure to swallow every single drop because you can hear rafe in your head, “that's what good girls do, they swallow.”
“mmm, fuck rafe. tastes soo good, i swallowed it all, just for you. did i do good daddy?” you question rafe as you stare up at him with such an innocent look.
“always my good girl baby, now open that filthy, slutty mouth of yours and let me see and let me see” rafe demands as he grabs your chin and tilts your head back. you open your mouth showing him that every last drop of his cum had been swallowed.
“oh yeah, you’re daddy's good little cumslut. always making me feel so fuckin' good, and don’t worry i’m just getting started princess, not even done with you yet. take your sexy ass to the bedroom” rafe slaps your ass as you get up and start walking towards the hallway.
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royallyprincesslilly · 4 months
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Hey I was going through lewis fics and wanted to know which fic anon is talking about here
https://www.tumblr.com/royallyprincesslilly/730019044757012480/read-your-new-fic-and-loved-it-i-would-have
Hey anon.
The fic you are looking for is called "You First".
You can find it 👉🏽HERE.👈🏽
Hope you enjoy it. 🙂
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wandixx · 4 months
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one-shot snippet
Duke was running out of fumes to run on. The last few days would be exhausting if it was just vigilante or just civilian stuff but no, he had to have it both. Because of Arkham break out, he had been called in three nights in a row, not for a whole patrol but he couldn't exactly sleep it off during the day like others did, especially not in a week when every teacher decided they needed to have test or quiz or what not. Naps meant he wasn't as sleep-deprived as he could be but he needed far more. But he couldn't because crime in Gotham never sleeps so he had normal patrol to finish and there were about two hours left.
Would something bad happen if he just stopped for a moment and laid on a roof? Ten up to fifteen minutes. It was a slow day too…
Yeah, no, he deserved a moment to rest and if something disastrous was to happen in the meantime he would shame other Bats for not giving him enough time to sleep.
It certainly said something that he found gravel covering this roof to be quite comfortable. He set a timer for ten minutes and let himself close his eyes.
When the loud screech of the timer jolted him awake, he was suddenly fully aware that he wasn't alone anymore. He sat up a little too quickly.
"Oh, you're awake" white white-haired girl around Damian's age chimed, sitting cross-legged just a few feet away from him. She wore something that could only be described as a lab safety hazmat suit, white and black with popping green accents. When had Gotham gotten a new vigilante/villain/whoever the girl was? "Good, I just returned from a snack hunt," she added, gesturing at a big textile bag lying next to her. Duke didn't have enough brainpower to do anything more than ask.
"What?"
The girl shrugged, take-out from BatBurger in her hand.
"You look like you have a bad day if not a few days, so I've got you my cousin's bad day combo or at least the closest thing I could. BatBurger burger isn't as good as NastyBurger but you certainly have better fries" As she spoke, a second take-out bag, 1 liter bottle of energy drink, juice bottle of the same size, and pack of convenience store brownies joined greasy paper bag sealed with a sticker.
"Is your cousin a speedster?" Excuse Duke, it was a totally valid question, he saw with his bare eyes both Wally West and Bart Allen when they visited Manor. No one else would be able to stomach the amount of food they inhaled during their stays.
"Nah, we're not that fast or that hungry. Though I think I may get closer to the speed of sound." So, clearly, a meta if white hair and weir aura that let his eyes rest weren't enough indication "My cousin when he has a bad few days often forgets to eat so this combo has to help with there too. But I'll steal your fries of course."
Duke was not going to look a gift horse in the teeth, so he grabbed one bag and tore it open. There was a classic combo with bigger fries and NightWings inside.
"Thank you…" he trailed off, hoping that the girl would take a clue and introduce herself but she didn't. She just drowned her fries in ketchup and started munching. She had her own juice.
"My cousin always said that each part of this combo has a different purpose." she explained instead, slightly muffled because of the fries in her mouth "This" she gestured towards the fast food meal "is to soothe your stomach. This "she tapped energy drink "is to soothe your brain and kick it back online. This "she raised a bottle of juice "is to soothe your taste buds because energy drinks are war crime against them and this "she nudged brownies "is to soothe your heart because Ancients damn it, this day is awful and you deserve it. At least that's what he told me when I had day bad enough to deserve that" she shrugged, licking ketchup of her finger. Suddenly she froze "You aren't allergic, are you?
"No, I'm not" he confessed bewildered.
"Good"
For a long moment, they sat in silence, devouring food the little girl brought. Duke distantly wondered if this was how the night shift spent their snack breaks. It felt nice.
He was finishing his part of the brownies when the girl spoke up again.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Yeah," he was a little surprised to realize that t it was true. He'll have to note down what she put in this 'bad day combo'. "Thank you"
"Don't mention it." she shrugged with a general gesture of dismissal "You're one of my cousin's favorite heroes because you're vaguely his age and handle Gotham alone during the day and I quote "She did honest or God air quotes at that" 'As only hero in Amity-' which is a lie by the way, Val is doing great and even if he suddenly got problem with how she feels about his alter ego, he still has Sam and Tuck even if they're usually more of moral support. And I helped when I visited, so no, he isn't the only one. Anyway as he said 'As the only hero in Amity, my heart goes out for anyone who deals with this type of bullshit so Dani if you absolutely have to prank heroes, leave them out of it, especially Signal, he can't be older than Jazz, he doesn't need any more mess to handle.' All aliens and lanterns are also off-limits because he is a space nerd. But you aren't space-related so I'm like 80% percent sure he has a celebrity crush on you" She slurped more juice, unbothered.
Duke was thankful he wasn't swallowing anything because for sure she would choke. He took a split second to consider addressing… this whole situation and choose against it. He was not ready to be anyone's celebrity crush.
"Your name is Danny?" he asked instead.
"Dani" she corrected" with an I"
"Ok. It's nice to meet you Dani-with-an-I" She giggled, nodding her head slightly.
"It's nice to meet you too Signal"
Duke stood up, stretching a little. Dani joined him after hastily putting all the trash in her bag. She was a little higher than expected.
"I have to get back to my patrol"
"Cool," she drifted back a bit, making him realize that she was floating a few inches above the ground. She fixed her bag on her arm.
"Hey, can I hang out a little bit more? My cousin will go green out of jealousy when I tell him" she added with a mischievous smirk but Duke could tell there was more to it. He took a moment to consider it, which apparently made the girl nervous "I can be invisible the whole time, like before." she offered, disappearing in the meantime. He could still tell where she was, because of her heat signature, and aura but for regular people, she would be no different than the surrounding air.
"Yeah, you can hang around and you don't have to be invisible. Just don't get in my way when I have to actually do some fighting."
She popped back to the visible spectrum and pouted like Damian whenever he got benched.
" I can fight, y'know? I stopped mugging on a snack run."
It was ten goddamn minutes, how could she get so much food and stop a mugging in such a short time?!
Oh, right, superspeed. Still, impressive.
"I haven't seen it" he started, channeling all Dick-trying-to-wrangle-Damian-into-socially-acceptable-activity' energy he could muster "So I don't know how you fight or even what powers you have. If we tried to fight together we would trip over each other" It was a bare-faced lie, Bat Training made sure of that but he knew for a fact that if he said anything else, the girl would be mad and probably did her own thing.
Was that what Bruce thought about all of them?
Oh no.
Dani still looked displeased but after a moment of consideration, she nodded with a defeated sigh.
Suddenly she straightened like she got struck by lightning and whipped around.
"Wha-"
She just shushed raising her finger to her mouth. Duke did indeed quieten.
"I have enhanced hearing" she whispered "There is a mugging somewhere this way."
"Let's go then" he shot his grapple, waving his other hand at Dani to come with him before he jumped off the roof. He heard the girl giggle as she flew right after him.
" After this, you'll show me the coolest gargoyles, okay? Sam asked for photos"
"Okay"
It seemed that the end of this patrol wouldn't be as bad as the start was. Hopefully.
And afterward, he was going to lock himself in his room until the sky fell or he was well rested.
Yeah, that was a good plan.
*******
how do you like it?
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essektheylyss · 4 months
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did someone actually hate on your fave? or did they neutrally attribute a trait to them that you've unnecessarily negatively moralized and you hurt own feelings about it? or, perhaps, did you project too hard and now interpret even mild critique or simple acknowledgement of interesting character flaws as an ad hominem attack on yourself?
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dennisboobs · 5 months
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7x10 // How Mac Got Fat
↳ Charlie & Dennis + getting high together
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penvisions · 9 days
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coffee and candor {one shot}
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader
Summary: Frankie picks you up for date number three and he's got it all planned out. Unfortunately, you're a little out of your depth with what he has in mind...
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: insecurities, frankie being excited and adorable gets it's own warning, competence kink, kissing, matching clothing, this is so fluffy and soft, um i think that's it tbh
A/N: while i'm still taking a short break from regular fic updates, this was a commission by the lovely @whocaresstillthelouvre. the prompt was 'nervous frankie x not outdoorsy! reader go on a hike early in their relationship'. i rather like how this turned out! i am still taking commissions even if i'm not working on wips at the moment. anything helps, please check out this post and this post to know more about what's goin' on in my lil corner. no pressure all all lovelies, i know things are tough for everyone! love y'll and hope the day is good to you ♡♡
ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi
Body tingling with anticipation, you wait on for the rumble of a truck engine to round the corner. You were nervous, this is only your third date with the man you had met by chance at a coffee shop. A mix up of to go cups and you found yourself placating a very tired and embarrassed Frankie Morales.
He had picked up your drink by mistake. But if you were honest, it was totally okay that you had to wait an extra few moments to get it remade before you blipped off to work, because it gave you the chance to chat with him and scrawl your phone number onto the cup that was supposed to be yours. His kind smile motivating you to be a little bolder than you normally would.
The truck does indeed rumble around the corner and within minutes you’re sat in the passenger seat with the radio playing low and cruising down the highway.
“So what did you plan for us today? The truck looks suspiciously empty.” You eyed the cooler sitting in the extended cab, lid propped open and empty. Then the simplistic backpack beside it, it was always in the foot space between the two front seats. Frankie had admitted to you that it helped to ground him to know he had essentials within reach at all times, just in case. You hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation, knowing he had faced more than a few situations he felt less than prepared for.
But the rite in the rain notebook with the matching pen he had in his pocket along with his wallet at all times told you he was good at preparing for anything within reason. The situations he faced out of his control had not been shared with you quite yet but you would be content if they weren’t, only wanting for him to tell you if he was comfortable enough to do so.
With pink tinged ears he turns to you with a lopsided smile.
“The pack has everything we need, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
“Not worried, just curious.” Your tongue peeks out from between your teeth and you see the way his adam’s apple bobs in response. His eyes snap back to the road and you feel a giddy sense of satisfaction at having flustered him a bit. He’d been the perfect gentlemen, his large hands only skimming around your body to lead you through doors, a tentative palm on your thigh as you sit beside him. No kissing, at least not yet. You were hoping today would be the day.
“I figured we would get out of the city a bit, go on a hike. It’s a really short one, only a few miles. Not too bad of an elevation gain, cleared out of poison oak, leads to a view I really think you’ll like. It’s an easy looped hike, so I figured we’d have a bite to eat at the midpoint. I packed up some snacks too, plenty of water. Even got some bugs spray and sunscreen.”
He rambled on, excitement obvious as he detailed the plan for the day, his face lighting up in the most endearing way. He was totally in his element and you….you were not. When you didn’t quip back immediately, he loosened a curled fist from around the steering wheel and reached for your thigh.
“That okay?” He jostled you slightly, worry seeping into his voice.
“Oh, um, y-yes.” You tried to muster up a smile, but it paled in comparison to the one he had only moments ago.
“I knew I should’ve run the idea by you. You don’t seem as excited now,” His bottom lip was taken between his teeth, worrying the skin of it as he regarded your profile. The slight furrow to your brow, the way your hands were wound around the flaps of your open overshirt. You had picked out a tank top and shorts outfit, tossing on casual button up over it, not sure what he had planned initially.
The first date had been coffee: to make up for him stealing yours. He had been nervous, his energy spiking and waning as he admitted he didn’t do this often. Date. Get random phone numbers. Have a lot of free time. He was a dad, to a bouncy and energetic seven-year-old. Nothing to worry about on the baby momma front, she wasn’t a part of the picture. A story you didn’t push on either, just making it as comfortable as possible between you two for him to want to tell you.
The second date had been dinner, with him in an ironed outfit and you in a slinky dress. It had been so much fun, the excitement obvious as you both hoped for another chance to see each other.
And now, the third: a hike.
You did not hike. You didn’t do anything considered outdoorsy if you were being completely honest. You were a lazy, take the day off to look through thrift shops kind of person. A curl up on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee or a cocktail and a book kind of person.
“Hey,” He breathed, soft brown eyes watching the way you had closed up. “It’s okay. We don’t have to, I promise I won’t be mad.”
“You’re so excited, though.” You move a hand to tangle your fingers with is, hand still on your thigh. Your stomach flutters, his skin is calloused and warm.
“I get excited about spending time with you, hermosa. It doesn’t matter what we do.”
“I want to do the hike.” You insist, wanting him to go back to the enthusiastic way he had talked about his plans.
“Please don’t feel like you have-“
“I don’t feel like I have to, Frankie, I want to. Because you want to. Simple.” You squeeze his hand in yours, placating him along with a soft smile.
“Simple.” With a lopsided grin and a press of his lips to your knuckles, the tension eases.
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Gravel crunched underneath the tired of the truck as Frankie maneuvers off the secluded highway. Tall trees and various shades of green surround you. You both sat and listened to the clinking of the engine cooling down, taking a moment to breathe in the pine and cedar.
“I, uh, got you something.” He huffed a little as he reached for the back and hauled it into his lap.
“You didn’t have to- oh my gosh!” It was a hat, a baseball cap just like the one atop his head. Dark navy blue, emblazoned with a ‘standard heating oil’ patch. Your stomach fluttered at the implication.
“To help keep the sun off your head and outta your eyes.” He plopped it atop your head, the stiff thing just barely resting over your hair. “We’ll have a lot of tree coverage, but better safe than sorry.”
“We’re matching.” You can’t help the teasing smile that took over your lips, heat blooming in your cheeks as you realized you would look like an official couple to any onlookers. Something you had thought about more and more as Frankie filled your thoughts and messages.
“Yeah, would you look at that.” A dimple in his right cheek had you reaching out to caress it, silently thanking him for his thoughtfulness. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted one like mine, but I’m really glad you like it.”
“I do like it! I like matching with you, Frankie.”
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His smile was dazzling as he looked back at you over his shoulder. You perked up a little, not wanting him to see the way it was hard to catch your breath or the falter to your steps as your legs began to ache from the incline. The slight brush of the long grass and reaching limbs full of leaves tickled but you tried your best to ignore it, opting to focus on the broad set of shoulders carrying a backpack.
Another bout of time passed, allowing for sweat to dampen your brow and the small of your back. You had removed your overshirt, tying the long sleeves around your waist. The stray pieces of your hair that had escaped from your hat floated around your face as you puffed out a deep breath.
Frankie seemed to pick up the moderate pace he had been keeping, his boots thudding the ground as he turned to pivot from the path as it began to curve.
“Uh, the trail goes that way.” You pointed over your shoulder, having followed the man’s lead regardless.
“I know, got a map in the pack if it makes you feel better.” He tossed you a reassuring smile, over his own shoulder. His eyes alight underneath his cap.
You were about to respond when he took another step and suddenly the trees fell away from around you, leaving you stood on an overlook. Valley open and wide in front of you, the view took your already short breath away. Frankie looked from the view to gauge your reaction. And he broke out into a wide smile as he saw how much you were taken off guard by the beautiful view.
Removing is pack, he set it down and reached to turn you toward him.
“This last month or so has been so amazing. Getting to know you has been some of the best parts of my life, hermosa. I was worried dating again after so long and not even looking for it would’ve been another lesson learned but everything with you is just so….”
“Simple.” You allowed him to caress his hands over the small of your back, your own reaching for his shoulders. The bills of your matching hats bumped, easy laughter bubbling up from you both.
“Simple.” He agreed, tongue swiping out to wet his plush lips. His eyes flicked down to yours briefly and your heart fluttered as warmth blossomed in your chest. Pressing more into his space, your chest bumped his, giving him the nudge he needed to close the gap even more.
Out on that ridge where you never would’ve trekked to on your own, you shared your first of many kisses with the man who had taken you completely by surprise. His lips soft and pliant against yours, his warmth seeping into you much like the sun on your skin underneath the open sky. You were the one to lick into the seam of his mouth, something he readily allowed you to do. The slid of his tongue on yours like heaven.
Breaking away, Frankie peppered kisses over your face. Lips tasting the salt from your sweat but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Turning side by side, he kept his hand around your waist and you mimicked him.
Maybe hiking wasn’t so bad.
dividers by the lovely @/cafekitsune
taglist: @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal
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chronically-ghosted · 7 months
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you call and I come running
rating: E for Explicit! 18+
pairing: javier peña x f!reader
word count: 8K
summary: a drunken confession leaves you and Javi on unsure ground. When an on the run narco douses you in an unknown, off-market drug, Javier has to save you by doing the one thing that may truly well and good fuck him over.
warnings: sex pollen, dub con due to sex pollen, minimal plot scaffolding to hold up a gratuitous amount of porn, minimally edited, feral!javi is best javi, the barest hint of breeding kink, not really butt stuff more like butt touching, light angst, no use of y/n, spanking
a/n: comes from @perotovar 's ask for my 100 follower milestone event: hi there! congrats on your milestone!! i saw your prompt list and saw "I’m so sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit." and "A whispered, “Fuck, can we do that again?” against the other’s lips." and thought it would be a really good combination for either javi p or max p? which ever one you feel fits better! 😊 (as for smut, only include it if you think it works!)
🤍Masterlist 🤍AO3 Link 
Bogota was begging for rain. At the end of summer, the city and its people had been suffering months of stifling, thick, humid air without a drop of relief. Sweat clung to exposed skin, dampening shirts and tightening waistbands. Heat weighed like a physical presence in the air while open windows and doors sought to tempt in some non-existent breeze, hoping to coax some pity out of the militant heatwave. But the heat and the moisture-thick air stayed, hovering like a cloud of mosquitoes, just as merciless and just as blood-thirsty. 
Night offered no consolation either. Stagnant and cloistered, the sun-bleached air greeted its visitors with a great, warm lick – like the wide tongue of a particularly aggressive bloodhound. The ongoing joke among the locals blamed the blackouts on all the fans, spinning throughout all hours of the day and night, instead of el gobierno barato. Only then came the sigh of ease, in front of whirling blades with ice water behind them. Flapping shirts and mopped brows. Only then, was there relief to the tension. 
Unfortunately, a running car would tip off any narcos in the area, so even that small miracle is denied to the two agents sitting in the darkness of la calle. A crack in the glass window releases a tendril of smoke, not enough to expect a breeze, not enough to wipe away the smear of sweat from across forearms and under knees. 
A drunken confession lingers even thicker in the air.
You thought you could do this. You really thought nothing would change – it was an accident after all. He didn’t mean it – he couldn’t – he was just teasing you, when he leaned over the sticky fourtop in the back of the bar at three in the morning, his breath tangy with the ghost of four glasses of whiskey, his body heat immense and overwhelming as he pressed into you and said – 
Whatever he said, you told him no.
Actually, you laughed and then said no. No, because he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t, he was just teasing you and he would never, ever, ever, ever know how much you actually wanted it and even if – even if you both wanted it, it could never, ever, ever, ever happen. 
It couldn’t. It was so absurd for him to even consider it, you laughed.
And then he never looked at you the same way.
You had done something irreversible. He had said the words, but you had done something irreversible to him. 
Something in the air had changed, maybe forever. And that, that you might have lost your partner, your friend, potential potential potential disappearing in a cloud of Marlboro smoke over bottles of cerveza, that was the worst part. 
He doesn’t look at you the same way.
Or at all. 
He smokes and he watches and he acts like you’re not in the seat next to him. Like his confession hasn’t cleaved him apart.
Nothing’s moved in hours. Neither the target or the shadows in the car. The tension presses up against the windows, hot and stifling. There is no relief.
“I didn’t want it like this, you know,” you say to the sun visor, arms crossed, low in your seat. “I . . . tried to see if Murphy would switch, but I didn’t think the tip would pan out so fast, and I didn’t . . . I didn’t want . . .”
The shadow next to you emerges with his face as he brings the glowing orange light of the cigarette to his mouth. Full lips, short thick hair below his nose, a jawline sharper than any hit of cocaine. 
“What did you expect?” he asks, his voice thick and heavy like oil. It clings to you.
You scowl into the darkness beyond your window. “For Murphy to me a fucking solid, for once. Covered his ass more than once after they adopted Olivia. I just wanted one goddamn –,”
He forcefully flicks the stub of his cigarette out the window as a precursor to punctuate his next sentence. “No. What did you want, if you didn’t want it like this?” 
The acidity in his tone stings you and you unintentionally flinch as if he had pressed the cigarette nub into your skin. 
“Javier, c’mon, that’s not fair.” 
He arches one eyebrow, his teeth clenched in his jaw, hollowing out a pocket of skin below his temple. The overhanging orange streetlights sap the color from his skin.
“So you get to make all the rules now. Got it.” He crunches up the empty box of cigarettes and chucks it in the back seat. You watch him with narrowed eyes as he settles back against the seat with his arms crossed. 
“Why do you have to make this difficult?” You snap. “You know this isn’t easy for me either.” 
“But it is easier than the alternative, right?” After two hours of ice cold silence, he finally looks at you and you can feel the spike of frost in your chest. The twitch in his jaw is the rage in his eyes taking physical form. “Easier than . . . trying. Right?” 
He looks away, already having confessed too much with whisky on his breath, and he can’t afford another slip-up. He knows this. You know this. You want to reach out and touch him but you worry he might physically slap you away if you do. You’ve hurt him in places Javier Peña doesn’t like to admit he has. 
“It’s not that simple,” you say to his thigh. “And you know it.” 
His jaw twitches again. “I’m not asking for your goddamn hand in marriage. I’m just — sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit. I want –,”
“No.” You say and you can feel the word imprint under your sternum. “There’s too much at risk. We’ve been in this fight for too long to get benched and if Noonan even gets a whiff of anything out of whack with her agents, she’ll . . . I want to, Javi, can’t you see that? I really want to – in case I didn’t make that crystal fucking clear. I want to, but there’s no trying for people like us. In a place like this.” The firm weight in your voice pushes on something that makes him look at you again. That rage has dissipated, melted, leaving only a corporeal ache. His brown eyes were endless in their confusion, their disappointment, their hurt. Please, he begs without words. You swallow, your thumbnail digging into your palm to keep yourself from launching yourself across the bench seat of his truck and into his lap. “I want to, Javi. I want . . . you.” 
He drops your gaze as if it burned him. He shifts back, hand coming up to cover his mouth, the side of his knuckle rubbing his upper lip as if coaxing whatever was sitting just behind his teeth back down his throat. 
Javier stares out into the oppressive Bogota night, his clavicle dewy with sweat and he shakes his head.
“Save it.”
You actually flinch. God, you knew it was going to hurt but you never thought it would hurt this much. Hurts so much it claws up your chest with cut-metal knives until you can’t breathe. Until you can’t see as tears flood your eyes.
“Javi, please.” Your voice is calm, despite the small implosion in your chest. “Don’t–,”
“No, I mean – look.” He points out across the dashboard.
The door that has been shut tight for the past three hours has opened. El Corto, a man who lives up to his name, pokes his round face around the edge of the door, glancing up and down the street with the paranoia of someone who trafficks drugs for a living. You turn your head into your shoulder to act like you are adjusting the firearm on your hip to wipe your eyes. Beside you, Javier turns the safety of his handgun and slips it into the back of his jeans.
“You good?” He sounds like Javier, your friend, and that swell of confidence gives you the strength to kick down a door into a whole nest of narcos. You meet his eyes and nod. 
The air is no cooler out in the open when you slip out of Javier’s truck into the dark night of Bogota. Javier strides across the black street, eyes just as fast as El Corto, paranoia just as high. There’s never any telling if the narcos are alone and that’s why you hang back just a bit, eyes on Javier and a dozen other places. 
“El Corto,” Javier snaps, sharp and demanding. The voice of authority. The narco freezes, narrow shoulders going taught. You keep eyes on his hands, your own hovering over your weapon in case he chooses to go for his. “Ven aquí. Tenemos algunas–,”
Without warning, El Corto takes off running, darting off down an alleyway. 
“Fuck,” Javier hisses and pulls his shirt out of his pants, experience the cruelest teacher. But you’ve already passed him –  running your favorite way to unwind, train, and way to avoid your problems, tearing down the alleyway after the shadow sprinting into the night. 
There is something singular about running that is more addicting than any drug the narcos peddled. A chosen target. A finite end. The only thing you had to count on, the only thing to worry about, is how hard you had to pump your arms, the length of your stride, the control of your breathing. Hunting down narcos was a breeding ground for chaos. But not this. This made sense. 
El Corto, despite having about half your stride, makes up for his short stature with speed. You catch only a glimpse of his jacket, then his shoe. A mile through an empty street and he finally comes into view. You’re gaining on him. The unrestrained creature in your chest roars and blocks out the searing pain in your calves, under your ribs. God, you swear you can almost smell him.
Maybe all animals, big or small, can sense the moment before the trap ensnares around them because without warning, El Corto darts left, leaping over a wrought iron fence into the lower levels of an apartment building. He’s gone before you can blink.
Snarling, you squeeze the fence railing as you tuck your legs over it, the momentum of your run clearing you from the tips. 
A voice in your head and possibly behind you is yelling at you to wait, don’t go inside without backup, but you can’t stop. You can’t help it. If you can’t have who you want, this is what you want. This is what you need.
And you need a fucking win. 
You burst through the screen door to an empty concrete room – torn carpet, wall paint chipped away, maybe an old living room – a flash of jeans around the hallway at the end giving a fraction of an indication of your target. So you take off after him, rounding the corner. You watch as he nearly runs through a faded yellow door, the wood cracking and splintering from the force as it slams open into the wall. The door ricochets off the wall, nearly slamming close again, just as you reach it, but the brunt of your shoulder knocks it back again.
And something cracks you across the chest. 
Powder. Blue. Lots of it.
You stumble, your eyes and nostrils burning, as it seizes in your lungs. You cough and hack, trying desperately to unseal it from your lungs, but it barely budges, barely slides loose. Blind and gasping from the heat of your run and through the powder, you veer off course, stumbling into what feels like boxes. Your knees tremble, suddenly unsteady on your feet. 
Through your watery eyes, you watch as El Corto drops the plastic bag that used to contain the powder, a malicious glint in his eyes.
“Puta,” he spits, the slur hardly original for a female DEA agent. He steps back and sheds the gloves you didn’t realize he had been wearing, still watching you with twisted interest. 
You’re no longer coughing, but the air still hasn’t settled in your body. You feel the heat in your lungs rise, expand, then fall, against your skin, as if it is in sync with your heartbeat. With every breath, a sour, sticky warmth presses against every joint in your body, every bone. There’s a knot building at the base of your spine, tightening your hips, and you stumble until you’re seated on one of the boxes, which you now see as packing crates. 
You swallow but your mouth is dry. Head heavy. Distant. Your eyes feel swollen in your skull.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” you whisper. 
He’s not scowling at you, you realize, he’s leering. Eager. Excited. He takes a step towards you. 
A floor above, you hear the sound of the door being breached and Javier calling out your name. El Corto scowls, as though his favorite toy had been taken away, before he tears himself away to the narrow window on the other side of the room. More shipping crates have been stacked against the wall and El Corto scurries up it, unlatching the window. He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder at you.
“Diviértete para mí, putita,” he waves with three fingers as Javier crashes into the room, his gun raised. He spots El Corto just as he slips up through the narrow window – the space no bigger than the width of a child – his foot kicking down the tower of boxes. Javier nearly nabs his ankle, leaping up the concrete wall, as the narco disappears into the night.
His open palm striking against the humid wall is a wet slap. “Fuck,” he snarls, this time pounding with the heel of his fist, “we almost fucking had him. What the fuck ha–,”
He turns and meets your gaze for the first time. His mouth drops in horror.
Sweat blooming across your forehead, you lean over on a crate, limbs trembling, breathing uneven. Every scrap of fabric over your skin burns, your thighs burn, your blood burns, you are burning. The sweat peaks in droplets that run down the back of your neck, under your armpits. Whatever he hit you with makes you want to take off every inch of your clothes –maybe then you could fucking breathe – but even then, it wouldn’t be enough. 
He’s got you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him, before you realize what’s happened.
“Talk to me.” Javier snaps, that authoritative force sharp and demanding, and it sends an aching bolt between your legs. You whimper in pain, your eyes fluttering. He shakes you. “Stay awake and tell me what happened. I need you to focus. ”
Your lips feel puffy, overripe and ready to split, your jaw tight and throbbing. “H-h-hit m-me with blu-ue – don’t–don’t know what i-it is.” 
Javier steps closer and the scent of his cologne hits you like a train. Groaning, a strange, unwelcome instinct yanks your head down into the curve of his neck, the source of the smell. The touch of his skin beneath your lips is a balm – cool egg yolk over a fresh burn – and you bury your face in deep.
“Oh, fucking Christ, Javi.” Your voice trembles, wavering down into a low moan. That same alien instinct latches your hands over his shoulder, nails digging into the cotton. But it’s not alien, you realize through the muggy, humid fog in your mind – you know this feeling. You are intimately aware of the coiling knot between your legs, your soaked underwear, the tightness of your nipples. But this can’t be happening. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t hurt like this. 
You gasp, in real pain, a throb that starts clenching your cunt before rippling up your spine and locking your shoulders. You hunch against him, waiting for the contraction to pass. 
“What is it?” Javi holds you, panic evident in his voice. You swear you can hear his heartbeat in his neck. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, goddamn it.” He demands with no bite in his command. 
He peels you off him, you hiss, ripped out of the soothing embrace of his arms, and he makes you look at him. His eyes are wide, mouth twitching. The entirety of his chest is blue, most of powder from your skin covering his shirt.
He cups your cheeks, trying to see if the powder has left an acid burn, as another wave hits and you lock your body, now a battleground against the strangling desire to turn your face into his wide palm and inhale. There’s liquid making the crotch of your pants sticky and it’s embarrassing. It’s mortifying and silly and the ounce of sanity still left in your head keeps an iron grip on every muscle in your body – sanity telling you to not fucking do this. Don’t do this to him. Not when it would mean so much to him.
To you. 
But fuck, you want it. You need it. You might actually die without it.
Tears spring into your eyes, making a gooey muck as they slide down your cheeks and mix with the powder. Whatever this is, you have to fight it.
His eyes dart to your tears, the little bit of powder still on your face, and without thinking, he brushes your tears away with his thumbs.
Sanity cracks the whip – if it gets on him, then –
With the last ounce of strength, you shove him back, as far away from you as you possibly can. The second his warmth is gone from your skin, you tremble and your knees give out. Fresh tears, spurred on by the pain, by the fear, by the shame, spill from your eyes and you curl up against the wall. 
“D-don’t, Javi, don’t. I th-think it’s t-t-transderm-mal–,”
“What do you–,”
You watch helplessly as his pupils contract and then expand wildly, black swallowing that aching brown. He shakes his head like a bewildered animal, sweat already bleeding across his skin, and he stumbles back onto a springy metal cot on the opposite wall. He blinks, hand tightening around his knee. It makes his forearm flex and you have to physically close your eyes, the sight forcing your cunt to clench down on nothing. 
“What . . . what the fuck is this shit?”
You bite your lip, your chin tucked to your shoulder as your body cramps, punishing you for denying it the only source of relief. You squint at him and see he’s half-hard in his jeans. You whimper.
“I-I don’t know . . . new– new party drug?” You grunt, your head thrown back against the wall. God, your skin is going to melt right off your bones.
“This is way fucking worse than ecstacy,” Javier murmurs, his jaw tight. “Fuck, got a bit on me, but you . . .”
He blinks at you, eyes glassy, with sudden and total understanding, with perfect clarity why you shoved him away, and what exactly you need. 
He murmurs your name and you gasp, another cramp yanking new tears down your cheeks. 
“J-Javier,” you swallow thickly, “I know what I s-said before, a-and in the car, but if you ever cared about me, p-please . . . please, just –,”
You can’t encompass all that you need into words, but you hope he understands, is feeling kind despite all that you had done to him. Your bones ache, skin too tight.
He shakes his head, but weakly, his eyes caught on your throat, the wetness clinging to your lips. “You’re just saying that because of the drugs. We have to call Murphy. Get us to a hospital or something.”
“Javi,” you whine and maybe it is the drugs, or maybe he has an inkling of how much it hurts, but he’s across the room in an instant. He grabs you by the shoulders and hauls you to your feet. He drops his head and inhales like he can draw the heat from your blood. The tip of his nose dragged across your jaw is a cube of ice against the furnace of your skin. You shudder, hands clasping around his shoulders, dragging him against you, his hands cupping your hips as if to steady him. 
“I-I’ll give you this.” Javier Peña doesn’t stutter. Your eyelids weigh a thousand pounds as you draw your gaze up to him. “I’ll help, cariño, and then we call Murphy. Okay?” 
You nod, dizzy and overheated and sick with wanting. You nod and tilt your hips forward into his fingers as they pop open the button of your jeans. The sound of the slide of the zipper drives a shiver through you and you feel his cock, fully hard, against your thigh. 
His lips brush your cheek, his voice slurred, dripping slow in molasses, sweet and dark. “I’ll help. I’ll give you what you need.”
The first press of his fingers against your pussy rubs slippery and wet. With a sigh of relief, you drop your head against the wall, hips shoving into his hand, begging for more.
“Fuck,” he wheezes. “You’re already soaking.”
“More, Javier, more.” 
He grinds his cock against your thigh to soothe his own ache. He nods slowly as if dazed, his eyes locked onto to where his hand disappears inside your jeans. “Y-yeah, okay.”
If any hesitation remains, it’s gone when he sinks two fingers inside of you and taps up. You moan and he shoves his knee between your legs. 
“You like that, pretty girl? Does that help?”
“Yes,” you gasp into his neck, his fingers rocking into you. “Yes, Javier, yes!” 
His touch douses the ache, the fire, across your skin, in your spine. With every snap of his wrist, he draws away the heat from your exposed, too-sensitive nerves, easing the lighting storm in your low stomach. The noises you’re making, the noises your cunt makes against his fingers – it should embarrass you, should draw red up into your cheeks and ears, but it’s just more release. You yowl like an animal in heat and Javier’s groin jerks against you. You gain enough sentience to realize he’s fucking you with his jeans on up the wall, his hand never slowing or easing. You can feel yourself gush between his knuckles. 
“You’re almost there, muñeca, I can feel it. Just give it to me. Come for me,” he pants into your clavicle, the spread of bone across your chest. You tighten at the thought of his breath against your nipples, his teeth on the soft weight of your breast –
And you do. You come with the easy brush of his thumb against your clit. White lightning soothes the rage beneath your skin and you shudder in his arms, forehead collapsing against his shoulder. The snap of his hips against your thigh is a bruising rhythm, harsh, feral, an understanding that only something rough and wild can actually save your life. 
“Is that better, querida?” His wide palm pushes the hair back from your damp neck, cradling your heated cheek. His thumb brushes just under your bottom lip. You can feel his own fever, radiating from his skin. “Can we get you somewhere safe?”
But you’re still too high, too taut, to answer him. Another one builds, stacks up on itself every time his rock-hard cock digs into your hip. He scissors his fingers and you bear down onto his thigh. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, but without exhaustion or anger. He sounds almost gleeful. When he looks at you, his pupils are blown wide, sweat making his skin glow. The skin around his mouth is damp. “Alright, I’m not gonna stop. You can have one more. One more, querida.” 
His shoulders tense, the muscles in his back shifting, as he changes the angle of his fingers, renews the pressure of his thumb on your clit. He brushes against something deep inside of you, wet and spongy and never before reached and you arch your back in response, air sucked from your lungs. His thigh nearly lifts you off the floor. 
“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” He taps the spot again and tears flood your eyes and spill down your cheeks. 
“Oh my god, Javi,” you murmur and he seems to like that. You clamp down around him and his hips stutter, his moan deep and coming from an ache in his chest. He inserts another finger and your cunt sucks him in, greedy for more. 
He eases back into his rhythm, raggedly humping your hip, the rough material of his jeans burning between your thighs. 
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he breathes. “Fuck, I knew it would fucking feel this good. You’re clenching down on me so hard, baby.” 
On the tip of your next orgasm, the haze clears for just a second and you catch him in the eye. This isn’t just the drugs, you know, this isn’t just an excuse for both of you. This is hating to see the other one in pain. This is sharing a worry for a bit of yourself that lives in another body. What passes along the length of your gaze is the exact thing you feared losing. 
Selfishly, you’d rather not have him like this, than not having him at all. 
But this is what it could be, he tells you through an open, gasping mouth, through eyes that pin you to the wall, this is what we could have every day, every night. If you just let me in. 
If you just –
“Come for me.” 
You answer with his name, on a cry high and sharp, and you’re coming – harsh, fast, exploding as you drench him, his fingers pressing roughly into that one sweet spot. 
Javi slumps forward, the weight of him nearly stifling, as he gasps, his hips stilling, stuttering, stopping. His skin flushes cold for a second, sweat cooling his fever, his face buried in your neck. 
You feel it. Against your thigh. You swallow in surprise, the fog parting briefly again. 
“Javi, did you . . .”
He wrenches his hand out of you, releasing his grip on your hip as he lowers you down. 
“I’m not fucking calling Murphy,” he grits out.
*~*~*
Javier is a man of singular focus. Almost dogged and single-minded in his hunt, it’s rare he is even capable of listening to the voice of reason. It’s a different voice than his own that tells him when he’s doing something monumentally stupid. There’s a part of him that knows exactly why that voice sounds a lot like you, unconsciously knowing that you’re the only thing that could give him pause. And yet, there are times when he can shut the voice out, can shut out everything inside of him screaming at him not to do the thing he’s going to do. But this, this decision, genuinely has him torn. There is no right way to do this.
Well, there is a right way. One where he takes you to dinner, buys you flowers, walks you home, tucks your hair behind your ear, kisses you softly at first, then rough, until you beg him to come up the stairs. Despite what some may think, he is capable of being romantic. He can be sweet. He can ask nicely. 
But that is something he is not capable of right now. 
In his post-nut clarity – because, yes, he did come in his pants like a twelve year old with his first porn mag after having his fingers up your cunt for what was all too short – he realized the room you both were in was some sort of safehouse. 
A cot against the wall. A portable stove with something in the pan black and sticky. The crates are empty of any valuables – by the shape and length, most likely guns – but the few that are still full have a few bags of that elicit blue powder. He makes a mental note, somewhere on the very distant laundry list in his brain, to take a bag – with gloves on and wrapped up in several other baggies – to have it tested at the lab. Because whatever this stuff is, it might actually be more dangerous than cocaine.
Especially to idiots like him, he thinks roughly as he yanks the thread-bare mattress off its wiry frame onto the floor. He snatches up the cotton sleeping bag at the foot of the frame and unzips it, the inside facing down. This is such a monumentally stupid idea, he knows it is, but he can already feel that cramp building up his thighs, his cock throbbing awake, arousal clamping down on the base of his spine. And he just got a whiff of it. He can’t imagine what you’re feeling already. Behind him he hears you moan softly, never one to complain or whine when things get tough or hard, so he goes faster. He tucks up the other end of the sleeping bag in what he hopes is some semblance of comfort, but he wonders if that will even matter to either of you when it hits again which, judging by how hard his cock is growing, is eminent. The wet spot on his thigh, beneath his jeans, is sticky, uncomfortable. He needs no further reason to unbutton them. 
You moan, this time louder, higher, again and he turns to face you, his shirt already undone to his stomach.
You’re pale again, skin glossy and sickly wet. When your eyes flutter open, they’re glassy, gaze distant and unfocused. You twitch when that first cramp settles in deep. He thinks, his mind not entirely his own, about how deep the clutch of your cunt sucked in just his fingers and he shivers. He simultaneously wanted to get this over with and drag it out for days. Have you beneath him for days. 
Your legs tucked up beneath you from where he laid you down, Javi approaches quietly, kneeling as he takes off his shirt and goes to untie your boots. He touches your ankle as gently as he can and you shudder, cracking an eye open. 
“Javier, it’s coming back. It’s coming back and it hurts.”
In addition to the many, many agency violations, this is monumentally stupid because he’s obsessed with you. Has been for a while. Not just in a way that makes him want to fuck you for hours flat on your back, but in a way that your smile is the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep and the first thing on his mind when he wakes up. An obsession with your wellbeing, your safety, your happiness. A persistent coiling thought about your laugh, and strength, and the way you can make grown men twice your size tremble in fear. You’re a hunter, just like him, and with your beauty – your staggering, haunting beauty – how was he not supposed to immediately attach himself to you? It came on slowly, his pathological need to be near you, and once he realized what it was, there was no going back. No turning it off. 
He didn’t mean to tell you when he was drunk, but after bagging another narco, it was like he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. A brief glimpse into a world where you both were safe, and happy, and – god willing – together and in this world, he told you and he was brave about it and you said it back and he felt warm all over. But that was not this world, not his reality. In this one, he has to save you by doing the one thing that may truly well and good fuck him over. 
“Sit up, baby, that’s it.” He eases you into his arms and it’s like his touch drags you back into consciousness. Your fingers dig into his bare arms as you take in his exposed chest. 
“Javi, fuck, I don’t wanna beg, but before when you – you – I felt better. It cleared. I don’t know why or how, but with your fingers inside m-me, it . . . helped.” 
“I know, cariño, and I want to help more.” His thumbs press up under your jaw, tilting your head up to look him directly in the eyes. There’s fear there, pain, and it’s agonizing to him. “But I don’t know if that’s what you want.” 
“What I want? Javi, I–,” your eyes widen in understanding of what he’s offering, of what he’s scared to do. What he’s scared to take without your permission. 
You swallow, a pink flush crawling up your throat. “I . . . I don’t . . . I didn’t want our first time together to be anything like this, but . . .” You shake your head, shuffling closer to him, your breathing thinning as the drugs start to strike matches against your nerves. “I just don’t want you to think it doesn’t mean anything.” 
“It’s gonna mean everything to me, no matter how I get it.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your chin, just in front of his thumb. You nod, eyes squeezing shut, as you fight this arousal that claws into your skin like meat hooks. He pulls you to your feet, holding you steady as your knees try to lock up. He unbuttons your shirt with shaking hands. 
You touch his chest like you’ve never seen a man naked before. The hesitant, awed touch of you sends all the blood still remaining in his head straight into his cock. 
“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he murmurs to your cheek, your shirt off your body, his hands tugging your jeans down your hips. You nod again, speechless in your relief, and follow your jeans to the ground. Twisting on the nest he made for you, you slide your bra off, your nipples already tight and perk and waiting for his mouth. You huff, a sound so unlike you it makes him genuinely concerned, as the front of your panties darken again. 
“It’s okay, Javi, this is what I want. I want this.” You hate being vulnerable, he knows this, your attitude a front that leaves no room for sexist comments in the bullpen. And yet, here you are, deflowered and begging for him. You spread your legs for him, eyelids heavy, and he can smell the arousal on you. 
He drops to his knees, unsure where to start first, but the blue powder coursing through his veins demanding he puts his hands on your hips, which he finally acquiesce to. 
“I don’t think I can be gentle,” he admits quietly. He wants to nip, suck, slurp every inch of you, wants to see that perfect body bend to his will, to his turning. He wants to fuck you open and stuff himself up inside you so deep it leaves a mark. In his haze, the instinct to fuck supplies him with an image of you pregnant, bred and full of him, and his cock twitches so hard he drops onto all fours over you. 
You slip your underwear over your toes and your knees take him by the ribs.
“Please, Javi, please.” 
He knows it must hurt, must be so blindingly painful for you to beg like this. You never asked anyone for anything and that independence turned him on and frustrated him to no end. 
“Please, be rough,” you ask him from under your lashes, your body writhing beneath him. His hips, on a separate system than the rest of him, thrust the rough teeth of his zipper against your cunt and you keen, the sound imprinting into every crevice and curve of his brain. “Make it hurt.”
Oh fuck, this might actually be the thing that kills him. 
He hushes you, stills your flushed whimpering with a kiss that ends in teeth against the high curve of your cheek. He noses to your mouth, then down to your ear, where he bites on your earlobe. He’s balancing on one hand as his other tugs his jeans down and off his hips. 
He wants to fuck your tits. Come all over them, have his spend flush up your throat, your chin. He wants to come so hard he blinds you with it. And then he wants to flip you over and fuck your ass with his come-lubed dick. 
You wriggle and whine, legs wrapping around his hips, tugging him down onto you when, half-a-mind away, he realizes he just said all of that outloud.
“Yes, Javi, you can have whatever you want. Fuck me however you want.” His blood is boiling now, the white-hot bomb settling itself in the base of his spine, his balls already tight. Why he’s dragging this out is beyond him and possibly a medical detriment to you. 
“Javi, just fucking put your cock ins–,”
He watches as every conscious thought wiped from your mind, brow heavy, mouth seared open as he plugs you full of him in one rough thrust. You shudder and his elbows buckle, his body locked up tight because if he moves, if he dares to rub his cock through your velvet, hot clutch, he’ll come right there. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock makes space for itself inside you.
“Javi–,” he claps a wide palm over your mouth, his teeth straining in his jaw, his temple twitching.
“Baby, I know it hurts – I know it fucking does – but I need you to stay still.” It feels too good. You’re too hot, too slippery, and soft. He can feel the hum of words behind his fingers and he shakes his head. “Do not fucking move – I just need to – I have to –,” 
He inches in just a bit more and you both gasp to the ceiling when he bottoms out. Your rough curls against his pelvis sears him, hot and sweet like cinnamon. He drools when he thinks about eating his own come out of you.
You only get one word out, one word that sets his whole world on fire: “Please.” 
He rears back, yanks you up his thighs, hands cupping the backs of your knees and he plows into you. Your tiny fingers that have pulled countless triggers and clapped irons on criminals twitch, tightening into the smelly cotton fabric, your mouth contorted open. His pace, his thrusting, is relentless, unforgiving but the look on your face is pleased, an almost maniacal grin across your lips. 
“Oh, right there, Javi, just like that. Just like that.”
He’s faster than he is precise. Precise comes later when the bestial fog clears from his brain, when the lust bleeds out of his system, when he doesn’t want to hump you like an animal with his teeth bared and cock so deep inside of you it kisses your womb. 
Before his mind entirely succumbs to the mounting arousal, he’s grateful he had the foresight to take the mattress down. If he hadn’t, there’s a good chance he would have fuck you, the bed, and himself right through the paper-thin walls. 
And then he lets go. Lets this thing in his chest and hot behind his groin take over, lets himself indulge in whatever carnal, depraved thing sparks in his mind.
He’s fucking you so hard you’ll both have bruises by morning. 
He watches, transfixed, at the place where his soaked cock disappears through your puffy, wet lips into the mind-numbing heat of your pussy. He can’t stop watching. He barely feels your nails digging into his thighs. 
The walls of your pussy squeeze him and it makes him falter, hitch speed. His gaze is torn away and instantly, it focuses on the bounce and sway of your tits. Sweat droplets roll from your neck into the valley of your breasts and without hesitation he bends to catch them with his mouth, tugging you further down his cock. You cry out, hands digging into his hair, as his tongue drags a wet trail over the top of your breast, the tip flicking your rock hard nipple, then beneath the swell where he meets it with his teeth. 
You jerk, pleasure overwhelming. “Uh – oh – oh – fuck – Javi.” The words leave your mouth truncated, cut short by his rhythmic bouncing. He nuzzles your tit, streaking you with his own sweat, not able to stop fucking up into you to really get a good grip on your breast, but wanting to put the whole thing in his mouth. 
“I’m gonna do it right next time,” he swears fidelity to your skin. He grinds his teeth against your sternum. “Next time I fuck you I’m going to pull you apart bit by bit. Starting with these fucking tits and ending with my tongue up your cunt. Maybe your ass.”
Against his cheek, he feels your skin break out in ridges, your whole body shivering at his words. He leans up, grinning wildly and grinds particularly deep inside of you. You still haven’t fully opened your eyes.
“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You want my tongue up your ass. What about my cock, huh? Want my fat fucking cock inside there?” 
You whine, clawing at his chest, as you nod frantically. He could ask anything of you right now and you’d give it to him. And god, he wants so much.
“It’d hurt, baby, you know it would.”
You nod, words tumbling out of your mouth in a mindless babble. “I don’t care. I want it there. I want you inside me. I want it to hurt. I want you to fuck me raw, Javi.”
He groans, more like a growl, rapidly picking up his pace. He lifts your knees higher and fucks up, the change in angle making you moan so loudly it fills up his ears with blood.
“Tell me where you want it. Say it, querida.” 
“I want it in my fucking ass, Javi.” 
His jaw twitching, that primal, unrestrained urge in him wrapping itself around his spine, he shoves you off him. Wetness dribbles down his lap but he doesn’t let himself smell or see it for long, as he flips you onto your hands and knees, sliding in and pummeling your pussy from behind.
You whine, singing for his cock, and collapse onto your elbows, presenting your ass for him. The pair of you really are just fucking animals.
He presses his thumb to your tight hole, the wet slap of his balls against your ass suddenly the least obscene thing in the room. There’s barely enough room for his thumb there and he tips his head back at the thought that no one had ever taken you there before. His. All his and no one fucking else’s. 
“Javi,” you sob, that preening need gone from your voice as though you are begging him not to go further, but desire kept you from voicing what you actually wanted. 
His bottom lip twitches and he leans down and gently bites your shoulder, grounding you and clearing out all fear. Drugs or not, he’d never do anything you didn’t explicitly ask for, but the second this is all over, he’s going to get on his hands and knees and beg you to let him work your ass open. 
“Not tonight, cariño.” He slides his thumb out of you, his wrist twisting as he palms the meat of your ass. “But I’m not leaving this completely untouched.”
He smacks the jiggling flesh until he sees a pink hand print, earning him a yelp from you every time his palm lands. He feels fresh, sticky wetness soak his cock with each slap, enough for it to dribble down his thigh. He’s not going to shower for a week. 
The higher he climbs, the faster that animalistic heat leaves his blood. You’re not as pale as before, the skin of your back growing a nice healthy flush. As his grip around your hips tightens, he feels your cunt clench around him. If he won’t take your ass tonight, he still wants you puffy and sore. He leans back just to watch his cock pound your pink, abused hole.
“I’m close, Javi,” you admit breathlessly. He nods, leaning forward again, that image of your pussy split open for him deliciously sealed in his mind, and he drags his nose down your spine. Sweat from his chest drops and splatters against your skin.
“I know you are, I can feel it. Can I see your face? Watch you? Can I put you on top?”
You nod and he slips out of you for what he hopes will be the last time in his fucking life. He’s no longer drug-crazed, but he is drunk. Pussy drunk. Drunk on you. Imbibed by the juices trailing down his thighs. He shifts and you swing a leg over his hips, immediately swallow him deep inside you. 
Unlike the courtesy he gave you, you give him no time to adjust, grip his chest, and ride him within an inch of his life.
Your tits swinging in his face, he presses his fingers so tight into your thighs, he’ll be able to count the distinct bruises, and plants his feet. He meets you, thrust for thrust, and he watches your competitive nature battle your overwhelming chase for release. 
“Just come, cariño,” he pants. “You’ve done so good tonight. Just fucking come all over my lap. Let go.” 
His words melt something inside of you and you whimper, curling down over him, which he takes to wrap his arms around your back, and roll you under him. He kisses your chin, your temple, the corner of your mouth. His big palm cradling your head, he grinds low and deep, seeking out that place he touched with his fingers. 
“It’s alright. I’ve got you. You can come.” He prods that spot once and it’s all over. You clamp down on his cock, milking him for all he’s worth because as you arch, mouth open, tears down your face, he comes too. He comes and he comes and he comes until he drips out of you and that breaks another orgasm across you, this one bumpy and leaves you shaking. 
He feels dizzy, unsure up from down, the loudest sound he hears is his own blood rushing in his ears. He’s never been more exhausted. 
He can hear the vibration of you saying something against his throat, but nothing is quite working like it’s supposed to, so he slumps off you, his hand never leaving your skin, as he tugs you against him.
He’ll be dried and sticky in only a few hours – you both will – but that doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that does is the feeling of your heartbeat over his. 
*~*~*
Morning, along with the scent of rain, glides in through the open window and your fingers twitch as sunlight hits you. Your eyes fluttering open, you lift your head from the sleeping bag to see wet puddles on the floor under the window, the concrete streaked and stained with water. It must have rained sometime last night and, shockingly, you didn’t hear a thing.
The heatwave had finally broken. 
It’s not until you’re full awake do you realize his hand rests in the cup of your neck, thumb rubbing smooth, soft circles into the hard knot near your shoulder blade. You smile, groaning softly, becoming more relaxed by how good it feels. 
You roll over and greet his eyes. They’re brown again, the hungry blackness gone, but leaving an edge of uncertainty in its wake. 
He wants to know how you feel about last night.
“You fucked up,” you tell him and that worried crease appears between his eyebrows. You inch closer, your hand curling up against his jaw. “All that time last night, all the time you had me under you, and you didn’t kiss me once.”
You close your eyes, drop your head, and press a fervent, determined kiss against his pink lips. You can feel it as he swallows it in, his body shifting forward, hand coming up to your hip. But just as quickly as it starts, he pulls away. 
Javier shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says almost mournfully, eyes downcast. “I don’t want to know – what you taste like, if . . . I can’t kiss you if this is the last time.”
He’s still respecting your boundary, your wishes, while coated in his release and yours. He knows he can’t be selfish with you again.
You wet your lip, hand still on his cheek. 
“Javier, you saved my life last night. That was some kind of fucked up drug, but if you hadn’t been here and did what you did, I think I would have had a heart attack.” He shakes his head, ashamed and desperate to prove you wrong. You understand his hesitation. It felt too good for it to be anything other than a transgression. “And if anything, it showed me something I think I already knew but couldn’t find in myself to admit. I need you, Javi. I need you because I can’t live without you. Because I love you.”
His eyes light up when you return the words he uttered in the bar. None of this is how it should have been – in an abandoned narcos hideout, but god, there’s not a single thing you’d change. 
“Yeah, baby? You mean that?” You nod as hot, natural desire flashes in his eyes as he pulls your body under him and captures your mouth in his. His warm palm cups your hip, your ribs, up under your arm, and pushes your elbow to your head. There’s more to say, more to worry about, but that fucking heatwave over Bogota has finally broken and Javier Peña’s cum is dried and flaky between your thighs. 
“We should call Murphy,” you giggle, withdrawing your tongue from his mouth. He shakes his head, the blunt edge of his teeth against your cheek. “There’s a deadly new drug on the streets. Lives are at stake.”
“My dick is at stake,” he murmurs, lips hovering over your skin, drawing your knee up to his ribs as he slots himself between your thighs. The smile slides off your face as he thumbs your raw clit in rough, desperate circles. 
“I thought you said you were going to take it slow next time,” you huff, hips rolling against his stiff cock. 
“I will. Gonna take you to dinner. Cup your ass over a distractingly short dress. Buy you flowers and fucking gold jewelry . . . then I’m going to take you home and open you up with my fingers, then my tongue.” 
“So what’s this?” You gasp against his neck as he sinks his cock into you. 
He groans, grunts, as if he hadn’t spent the better part of the night making your cunt his personal possession. 
“This is me, fucking you, before breakfast. Then we call Murphy. Any objections?” 
You squeeze your knees around him, ankles hooked across his low back, sucking a mark into his neck. 
“Not at all.” 
When you do go public, not shying away from holding hands in the office, or openly walking in at the same time from the same car, Noonan is irate, but can’t bring herself to cut her two best agents loose. It seems catching Pablo Escobar matters more than some silly, little government-issued guidelines. She’d get her day in court, but not today. Not for a while. 
Noonan is annoyed. 
Murphy is not. 
“Came across some new party drugs and not a single thing happened, right?”
“You could have found it, taken it home for you and Connie to enjoy,” you say as you slide your arm across Javier’s back, his hand on your hip. He rarely ever takes his hands off you now. “But, no, you bailed on me instead.” 
“Sounds like you should be thanking me, instead of busting my balls.”
“He’s right, baby,” Javier nuzzles your neck. “Could have been him stuck in that basement with me, horny as a cat in fucking heat.” 
You shrug as Murphy makes a face. “I blame the heatwave.”
He leans into your ear. “And I blame your fucking ass in that skirt. I’m gonna take you home, make good on my promise. Any objections?”
“Not at all.” 
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