Please Note: This is an 18+ blog. Unless otherwise stated, all linked works can be assumed to contain adult content. Specific content and trigger warnings can be found on the individual posts/series masterlists.
Masterlist will be continuously updated as content is posted.
PPCU WORKS
Quarry - COMPLETE
Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities.
Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.
Set immediately following Chapter 13: The Jedi.
I'd Like To - COMPLETE
Din has always struggled to prioritize his own happiness, even more so now that he is a single father. When some well-meaning friends create a dating app profile for him without his knowledge, he finds himself on his first date in years with a woman who seems determined to bring some much-needed softness to his life.
Written for @hellishjoel's Hot DILF Summer Challenge
From the Ground Up - IN PROGRESS
After getting laid off from your job, you are forced to move back in with your parents until you can get back on your feet. You can't help but feel like you have started your life over again at square one, but when your dad's best friend offers his help in the form of a job at his burgeoning construction business, you learn that maybe there is more than one path to the life of your dreams.
DBF!Joel Miller x OFC ("Reader" Format Second-Person POV)
Miller Tours | Secret Springs Resort - COMPLETE
Prompt: Joel Miller & Speedboat Rides
Created for the Secret Springs event hosted by @secretelephanttattoo
Stay Right Here - COMPLETE
You never had a problem getting out of bed in the morning until you started sharing one with Joel.
A Secret Santa gift for my dear friend, Britt @pedroswife69 <3
Whiskey's Sour | Secret Springs Resort - COMPLETE
Prompt: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) & Cocktail Bar
Created for the Secret Springs event hosted by @secretelephanttattoo
Sweet As - COMPLETE
Frankie comes home after a long day at work and learns how you have been keeping cool in the midst of a heat wave.
Prompt: Frankie Morales x Grapes
Written for the @happypedrohoursCharcuterie Board Challenge
This is Personal - COMPLETE
While on vacation with his friends, you can’t resist the temptation to test Frankie’s limits.
Prompts: Frankie Morales | Established Relationship | As Quiet as Possible | Orgasm Denial | Talk Them Through It
Written for the PPCU Smut Writing Challenge hosted by @mushgloomz.
Work of Art - COMPLETE
Your pregnancy brings out a vulnerability in Marcus you never would have expected. When he reluctantly shares his insecurities with you, you are more than happy to reaffirm your affection for each and every part of him.
Written for @joelmillerisapunkPPCU Body Worship Writing Challenge
Idūs Septembrīs - COMPLETE
While attending an Epulum Jovis celebration at the imperial palace, General Marcus Acacius encounters an unexpected reveler – the daughter of a prominent senator who seems a little too eager to take part in the debauchery.
For @peepawispunk. Love you to the moon, bestie.
Sins of the Flesh - COMPLETE
After multiple chance encounters with a mysterious stranger, you begin having the most unsettling dreams.
Written for Monster (S)Mash hosted by @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett-writes
Wash & Fold - COMPLETE
After discovering some unfamiliar clothes in your laundry (and losing some of your own in return), you begin exchanging messages with another resident in your apartment complex.
Written for @jolapeno’s Dear-uary Epistolary Writing Challenge.
I'll Pick You Up - COMPLETE
On your first Valentine’s Day together, Javier shows you how much you mean to him.
Written as a Valentine's Day gift for my dear friend Kat @sunshinehaze1!
Call Me - COMPLETE
Fresh out of a toxic relationship, you move in to the same apartment building as Clint and his three-year-old daughter. The ex-mob enforcer is nothing like anyone you have ever met before – steady, reliable, and entirely too generous. As you grow accustomed to living on your own for the first time, you find yourself leaning on your new neighbor for support.
Or
Five times you call Clint for “help,” and one time he calls you.
Written for the Summer Tunes Writing Challenge hosted by @burntheedges.
The Giving Season - COMPLETE
When your coffee shop and bakery is hired to cater an important meeting for the private equity division of The Castillo Group, Harry Castillo finds himself so enamored with your pastries that he decides to pay your shop a visit for himself. There, he meets you – a young, confident, vivacious entrepreneur struggling to keep your head above water through the holiday rush. Nothing about this new connection makes sense on paper; the two of you come from completely different worlds. But Harry can’t deny – he’s never felt anything like this before.
Written for @80ssong.
OTHER CHARACTERS
Latent Instincts - IN PROGRESS
Eager for a change of scenery following a messy break-up, you accept a travel nursing contract in the emergency department of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. You think this new job will be a soft place to land. However, you quickly find that you may have bitten off more than you can chew when you meet Dr. Michael Robinavitch, the protective, stubborn Chief Attending with misplaced Alpha instincts who treats the entire ED like his pack.
Robby never thought he would want an Omega, and frankly, it’s been a long time since he has been stable enough to care for one properly. You certainly aren’t looking to jump into anything after the disaster that was your previous relationship. There are plenty of reasons why the two of you ought to give each other a wide berth.
The only problem is…you can’t seem to stay away from each other. No matter how hard you try.
The AK-Vintage Archives (works published pre-2023) can be found here.
summary: After being dragged to Laredo, TX by your ex, you take up a job as a bartender at a local dive bar. Originally, it was just to to get back on your feet but after 3 years of stagnation, your world gets shaken up when a new visitor begins to frequent your bar.
tags/warnings: E-rated: MDNI!!, alternating timelines, heavy smut, unprotected PIV, oral (m & F), edging, hella dirty talk (it's Javi), pinch of mirror sex, pet names (pretty girl, hermosa), a little bit of protective Javi, a little bit of trauma'd Javi, smoking, drinking, cursing, gun use, no physical descriptions of reader outside of having thick thighs and long-ish hair (header pic isn't completely accurate but damn it was hard to find much of anything I had envisioned in my mind lol) but she does have a Southern drawl.
word count: 13.2k 😬
note: no note just smut. byeeee.
You didn’t mean to end up in his bed again.
Yet here you are—propped up on the edge of it with your legs tossed over his shoulders, his face buried deep between them as he brings you to the edge for the third time tonight. He seems to revel in the way he takes you to the brink of pleasure only to leave you in limbo, barely hanging on by a lousy thread.
You don’t know how or when he learned your body so quickly—the ins and outs of you that make your chest heave and your body shudder as you chant his name—but now that he has, you don’t think you ever want him to stop.
And he doesn’t seem to want to stop either.
He has become your entire summer. The time you’d usually spend taking weekend trips to the coast or going out to tear up town with your friends has fallen by the wayside—all of your free time completely encompassed by him. When you’re with him, you want time to stand still. And when you’re not with him you’re constantly thinking about when you’ll see him again.
The first time he showed up at the bar where you work wasn’t anything special. It was like any other early summer night in south Texas and your bar was like any other typical watering hole in the area.
He could’ve wound up at any of them but he landed in front of you.
He walked in like a slow roll of thunder during a late night summer storm as it blows in on a warm gust. One that hesitates for a beat after a blinding flash of lightning off in the distance. Nothing loud or flashy—he didn’t have any need to call attention to himself—just a steady presence that rumbled with something more just under the surface.
His eyes were a deep chocolate brown. It’s the first thing you noticed about him. They had something so warm and inviting yet guarded behind them when he looked up at you to order. You didn’t realize the two characteristics could co-exist.
Out of the curiosity that comes when a fresh face walks in, you’d asked him that first night what brought him to your bar specifically. He said you carried a Colombian beer he liked and couldn’t find anywhere else.
“Oh? How’d you first try it? Was it here? Maybe before I started?”
“No,” he said as he took a swig from his bottle.
“‘No’ That’s all I get? It’s not exactly a common one—at least not around here. My boss just happens to be somewhat of a beer connoisseur,” you probed as you wiped down the bartop.
“Well then—I just so happen to be a beer connoisseur myself,” he huffed as he placed a cigarette between his lips.
You tossed him a matchbook. “Strange coincidence,” you said with a skeptical eyebrow raised.
“Guess so,” he ripped a match against the striker and placed the flame to the tip of his cigarette until it scorched the white paper with the hue of freshly burning tobacco.
You didn’t press him any further. You’re well versed in the business of making small talk that comes with being a bartender.
And you also know when someone wants to be left alone.
He’d come and gone nearly as quickly as your conversation. After his second cigarette and the single beer, he’d left while you were chatting with one of your regulars—his spot at the bar replaced with cash for the drink and your service.
At this point in the night, you’re hot, sweaty, frustrated. You have no idea what time it is or how long he’s been denying you your release. All you know is you’ve never been so fucking desperate to come. When he said he was going to take his time with you tonight you didn’t think it would involve so much…torture. Every pass of his tongue through your folds makes you dizzy with lust, your core fluttering and squeezing tight when he pushes a finger or two between them teasingly.
He had positioned his standing mirror directly in front of where he knew he was going to have you for the night. He wanted to make sure you’d be able to see how much of a fucking wreck you are when he’s got you like this. Anytime your head has dipped since he started to work you, he’s made sure to tip your chin back up to exactly where he wants you to focus.
So, you look up again at the reflection in front of you. Your skin, dewy from the sickly summer humidity, practically glows in the soft lighting of his room. Your lips stay permanently parted as he draws little gasps and moans from you. You wish you could say your hair is perfectly sex-toussled, but there’s nothing perfect about it as it plasters itself to the sweat on your neck and cheek. Your favorite part of the reflection though, is the way the muscles of his back look like perfectly sculpted art from the way the warm lighting casts dramatic shadows through his room. You whimper quietly every time his shoulders flex when he repositions you as he pleases.
You watch with your jaw dropped open as his hand caresses up your body to roll a peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your brows furrow as you cry out in a pathetic whine that you expect him to understand.
Whether he cares though is a different story.
“What’s wrong, hermosa?” He rasps before he nips lightly against your inner thigh.
“Javi, please,” you pant above him, your body involuntarily rolling, desperate for friction. “I need to come.”
The next time he showed up, your back was turned to the door as you counted the pallets of beer that had been delivered that morning. You instinctively greeted him with the standard “hey welcome in, be with you in just a sec,” when you’d heard the rusty bell above the door ring.
After you’d finished your pre-rush inventory, you turned around only to be met with those same brown eyes that had caught your attention the last time you saw him. He seemed more on edge tonight than before as he sat there fidgeting with a paper coaster, his eyes flicking back and forth as he scanned the bar.
“Oh, hey there! Welcome back….” You trailed as you waited for him to fill in the silence with his name you didn’t happen to catch before.
“Javi,” he said with a dip of his head.
“Javi,” you smile. “Seems like you could use somethin’ a little stronger to take the edge off tonight?” You suggested.
“What makes you say that?”
“That coaster was fresh before you sat down,” you leaned against the bar in front of him, playfully plucking the destroyed cardboard between your fingers.
“Shit. Sorry,” he laughed under his breath.
“I’m just teasin’,” you drawled as you flung the mangled paper into the trash. “What’re you havin’ tonight, honey?”
His first and second rounds, he ordered the same beer that had initially drawn him in, but as the night went on he switched to whiskey which he seemed to savor longer.
For the first part of the night, the bar was slammed—a typical Saturday. It didn’t leave you much room to converse, only checking in with him when he needed a refill, but you could still feel his eyes on you as you buzzed around the bar through the rush.
Lucky for you, the switch up of booze and the time it had to settle into him gave you more of an opportunity to get him talking. He finally seemed somewhat relaxed compared to when he first sat down.
The end of the rush has always been your favorite time of the night. The bar settles into such a calming energy. You get a breather plus a chance to actually talk to your regulars—but tonight your focus is all on him.
“Felt your eyes burnin’ a hole in me all night, Javi. You got somethin’ to say finally?” You gave him a sly glance as you removed a fresh batch of glasses from the dishwasher.
He smirked at your call-out, “was it that obvious?”
“Maybe not to some people, but I’m very observant,” you flirted.
“Oh, yeah?” He chuckled and pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket, extending it out to you in an offer you politely declined.
“I sure am,” you smiled at him and leaned over to rest your elbows against the bar. You took note of the way his eyes dropped to your cleavage despite how brief it was—another part of bartending you’ve grown accustomed to. You usually play it up anyways since a glimpse of tit gets you more tip money but you didn’t want Javi’s money.
You wanted his attention.
“I guess I do have a question for you,” he rasped as he flicked his cigarette into the ashtray. “What the fuck are you doing in this place?”
“Uhh bartendin’?” you looked around confused.
“No, not in the bar,” he laughed, “in Laredo. Not much going on here unless you’re a farmer or stay-at-home mom,” he took a drag from his cigarette as he studied you.
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” you laughed, “Okay…I’ll tell you—but—you have to promise not to laugh at me,” you said in a hushed voice.
“I don’t usually make promises but I guess I can make an exception for you,” he shot back.
Your cheeks grew hot with a quick flush, suddenly much more nervous with all of his focus on you. He seemed kind but even in his kindness he was laced with a quiet intensity that equally made you cautious and curious for more.
“Uhm well, it’s really not that interestin’—moved here from Dallas for a boy. He broke my heart. Took this job while I worked on figurin’ out what I wanted to do next—get back on my feet—and now here it is 3 years later and I still have no fuckin’ clue what I’m doin’. Tale as old as time, I guess,” you shrug.
“His loss,” he said as he flicked more ash into the tray in front of him.
“Damn straight,” you shot back proudly. “Now, what about you? I gave you somethin’ you gotta return the favor,” you grabbed the bottle of whiskey and topped him off—a friendly bit of encouragement to get him to stay just a bit longer.
He leaned back in his chair, cigarette hanging from his lips, “Well, what I give back to you all depends…what do you wanna know?”
“Hmm, I finally got your name earlier, so I suppose I’ll move on with the standard script— where ya from?” you leaned back onto the corner of the bar next to where he sat.
“I’m from here—from Laredo,” he said before taking a swig of fresh whiskey.
“Oh—really?” You asked quizzically.
“Is that hard to believe or something?” He chuckled.
“No, it’s just—are you a farmer? You don’t seem the type,” you said with an inquisitive brow raised. His clothes and hair were much too clean and neat compared to your regular clientele.
“Not exactly, but my Pops has a ranch. He’s getting older so I’ve been helping him out,” he shrugged.
“Aww, bless. You’re a good son, Javi,” you said as you reached over the bar to give him a playful pat on the shoulder. “Wait…Javi—are you Chucho Peña’s Javi?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah I am,” he leaned forward to stub out his cigarette into the ashtray, seemingly somewhat bashful that you made the connection with no other information.
“Well, I guess that explains a lot,” it rolled off your tongue, sounding worse than you intended.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He huffed in amusement.
“Oh! Nothing bad! Not at all! I’ve just, ya know, heard some things while out and about. You’re kinda famous around here I guess.”
“Famous, huh?” he questioned sarcastically.
“Don’t worry. I don’t get starstruck,” you winked.
“Small-town bullshit,” he chuckled.
“Oh, I’ve come to learn all about it—it’s a lot more political than I expected,” you laughed.
“They gotta figure out where to put you in the hierarchy so they know how much shit they’re allowed to talk about you. It’s serious business,” he said with a raised eyebrow before tossing back the rest of his drink.
“Well, you don’t seem to have that problem. You’re basically the king aren’t ya?” you teased.
“It’s not so easy being at the top, you know. That’s when they talk the most shit,” he trailed off before continuing, “so, what else have you heard?”
You felt his energy shift—not enough to be outwardly noticeable to others, but you could tell he was at least a little worried about what you might say despite his nonchalance.
“Uhm, well—I know you worked in law enforcement here before leaving to join the DEA…” you started.
“That it?” he said with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, no,” you paused and cautiously weighed how to continue, but he gave a reassuring glance that it was okay for you to complete your thought.
“I also heard you left your fiancé at the altar a while back,” your face twisted up like you were bracing for impact.
“Fuck, they still talk about that?” He huffed and squirmed in his seat.
“Yeah, I’m sorry! I really didn’t wanna say, Javi—didn’t wanna make you feel bad,” you laughed and brought your hands up to cover your face sheepishly.
“Didn’t wanna make me feel bad?” he said, shocked.
“Well, yeah? I mean, you musta had your reasons—I don’t know, it’s none of my business,” you shrugged and waved it off.
The longer you talked the more you realized that despite the face he shows outwardly, he’s actually softly charming and funny—able to go back and forth with you with relative ease. Didn’t hurt that he was handsome as hell either. You wondered why he walked around like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders all the time—or at least the times you’d seen him.
“Aye! Left you a lil’ somethin’ down at the end of the bar, sweetheart,” you heard someone call out behind you.
“Oh, shit, Larry! I thought you’d left ages ago. Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you clasped your hands over your heart.
“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Luisa’s out front to get me anyways. I’ll see ya next week, darlin’,” he shot you both a knowing wink and was out the door.
“Shit,” you whispered when you turned back to Javi, “I really fuckin’ forgot about him,” you giggled.
“We’re gonna be the talk of the town now,” Javi sighed.
“Especially if Luisa gets a whiff,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “Well, I better let you get goin’ before they can make up any more gossip fodder. I should’ve started closin’ up a half hour ago,” you said as you took his empty glass and placed it in the sink.
“The owner makes you close up alone?” He stood up from his seat to lean against the bar.
“Somebody’s gotta do it,” you rounded the bar and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder before wiping his chair down and stacking it on the bar top.
He followed your lead and started to stack chairs on tables across from you.
“What’re you doin’, Javi? Get outta here it’s late,” you waved him on.
“Which is exactly why I’m staying to help you. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be in here alone this late,” he said as he stacked another set of chairs.
You hold it together just enough to not let his complement get the better of your independent spirit even if you were screaming inside.
“Baby, this is Texas. I’m armed,” you shot back with a smirk.
He slinks up from the floor, never coming to a full stand as he pushes you up the bed with heated, sloppy kisses. Your hands instinctively fly up to tangle in his soft brown locks as you nip at his bottom lip.
He groans above you, finally giving you the first glimpse of how gone he is at this point too. Now that he’s not buried between your thighs, you can see how glazed over in pleasure his eyes are, his pupils blown out wide to the point you can’t see their chocolate brown at all.
“Fuck, Javi,” you pant and reach out to start slowly stroking him. He hisses followed by a low groan as he pulses in your hand. “You know you didn’t have to wait this long? Didn’t have to do this to yourself,” you coo.
“Wanted to see how far both of us could go before fucking losing it,” he captures your lips with his and teases the tip of his tongue at your top lip. You gasp and part your lips so you can roll your tongue against his languidly.
“Who’s winnin’?” It drips from your lips like honey as you stop pumping him to plunge two fingers into your aching pussy.
“Ohh fuck,” he moans as he looks down in awe at where you gather your slick and use it to slowly start pumping his thick length.
You watch with kiss-swollen lips, parted in raw desire as his brow furrow in concentration as he starts to fuck your hand.
“Need you inside me, Javi,” you pant as you squeeze him, “need to feel you.”
He groans as he leans forward to kiss you heatedly. You breathe into him and trap him close to you by pulling at the waves at the back of his head. He drags his tongue lazily against yours, mirroring the way he drags his throbbing cock through your soaked entrance.
“This what you need, pretty girl?” he taunts against your lips as he pushes his swollen tip through your folds.
“Yes, more, please,” you beg in a pant.
“You want more?” he says as he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger to force you to look at him. You look up at him lazily through your lashes, eyes half-lidded and clouded with need as you nod and arch your back into him.
Without a word, he licks your bottom lip and has you chasing his kiss before unexpectedly flipping you over onto all fours before your brain can even process it.
You let out a surprised whine as he spreads his hand across your back and presses your chest down into the mattress. He slips his other arm under your hips to support your weight and so your ass is up and on full display for him.
He groans from deep in his chest at the filthy sight in front of him. He rubs his thumb tantalizingly slowly through your puffy folds and all you can do is whine and squirm beneath him as another wave of arousal floods you.
“Fuck, hermosa, look at you,” he rasps as he spreads your cheeks apart. The sound of your pussy lips separating drags quiet moans from both of you.
He keeps a hand on your upper back so that you stay pressed into the mattress as he starts to tease you again, pushing his tip in slowly through your slit, mesmerized as your needy pussy tries to pull him in.
“Tell me what you want,” he groans as he ruts against you, barely holding it together himself.
You squirm under him as you try to push yourself back onto his cock, “please fuck me, Javi, fuck—please.”
“You’re so fucking wet for me, hermosa, think you can take it all at once?” he murmurs against your skin as he leans over to leave hot kisses against your back.
“Yes…I can, I can,” you babble against the bedsheets.
You hear him adjust his stance behind you as he positions his hands on your hips. He squeezes the soft flesh there hard as he pulls you back onto him and thrusts forward until he’s buried in your fluttering pussy to the base.
Primal sounds rip deeply from both of your throats as he settles inside you. Tears prick the corners of your eyes at the overwhelming relief of finally being so fucking full of him.
He pulls his hips back almost completely as he hisses and moans behind you, entranced by the way your slick shines and covers his entire shaft. When you’re about to beg him for more, he slides back inside you with one slow but forceful thrust, punching the air from your lungs.
He slowly starts to pick up his pace, dragging in and out of you against that spot that makes you lose your breath and see stars.
“Ohh,” a drawn out moan leaves your lips and fills the space of his room. It spurs him on more, gradually thrusting harder with every sweet sound that you bless his ears with.
“Taking me so well, hermosa. Jesus fucking Christ,” he grunts as his hips stutter, your sign that he’s barely hanging on the same as you.
A couple weeks later when he showed again, you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at the sight of him walking through the door—a nervous surge of excitement at seeing him again.
“Well hey stranger! Thought you’d left me for good,” you said with a million watt smile plastered on your face.
It was an extra hot late July evening. Wearing as little clothes as possible without being an indecent exposure case was basically a life skill here. You had shimmied your way into a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a tight white scoop neck cropped tank. You figured the way the shorts hugged your curves would rack up the tips tonight, at least. You’d been too rushed and irritated to bother with your hair or makeup, so you left your place with your waves wild from the humidity and nothing but the glow of your own sweat on your face.
It didn’t seem to deter Javi from raking his eyes over you from top to bottom as he crossed the floor to take his seat at the bar. You couldn’t help yourself from doing the same to him. His shirt was unbuttoned even lower than usual and the sheen of sweat that glistened across his freckled chest sent your mind to places you weren’t proud of.
“I could never,” he rasped, “came out in this heatwave just to see you.”
“Oh please, you came for the finest whiskey in town,” you teased with a side eye as you grabbed a rocks glass from under the bar and started to pour.
“And to see you,” he smirked as you slid the glass over to him.
“Sure,” you said with a playful eye roll, “So where ya been? Anything fun happen?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it fun,” he said, swirling his drink, “I was traveling around the state—going on job interviews.”
You laughed to yourself at the way he said it like it was the most painful thing he’s ever had to do.
“Interviews huh? You gettin’ antsy at the ranch?” You probed as you leaned your hip against the bar to get comfortable.
He chuckled low, “No, it’s just—I’ve also been trying to figure out what I’m going to do next. The ranch is mostly temporary.”
“Well, look at us. Two wanderin’ souls—at least you’re takin’ action. What kinda jobs you interviewin’ for?”
“Teaching jobs, actually. At whichever university will take me—but I’d prefer it to be one that’s closer by so I can still be at the ranch when my Pops needs me.”
“Oh that’s great Javi!” you reached across the bar to put your hand on top of his, “I’m sure any and all of ‘em would be lucky to have you. I bet there’s a lot you could teach those kids.”
“Yeah, thanks,” he smiled, “I’ve got a bunch of bullshit stored up here I don’t need anymore. Figured I could do something useful with it,” he said as he pointed to his head.
“Well, you just let me know when they all call you back with offers and I’ll treat ya to a night of drinks on me,” you assured with a wink as you skated away to take another customer’s order.
Throughout the night, you both continually caught each other’s eye. Nearly any time you turned around from helping another patron, he was already watching you. You gave small smiles at first, which he’d return. Sometimes he’d look away, embarrassed that you kept catching him, but then something in you shifted. You’d been keeping things friendly between the two of you, but you wanted to push your luck just a bit more to see how he’d react.
You swayed over to the tap to refill a beer and caught his eye again, except this time you looked at him with more fire behind your eyes. It elicited a curious eyebrow raise from him and a barely concealed smirk as he brought his glass to his lips. You turned around to serve the beer to its rightful customer before you turned back around in Javi’s direction, bottom lip pulled in between your teeth, ready to make a move when you froze in place.
You ex.
Your eyes got big, the lip that had been pulled between your teeth now dropped open in shock. Javi looked at you, confused at the direction your cat and mouse game took, before he turned around to see a man standing at the entrance of the bar staring directly at you. A wave of cold ran through your body as he lurked there, waiting for a reaction.
Your eyes flicked back and forth between Javi and this ghost from your past. Part of you wanted to run to Javi—something about him screamed protective to you—yet, another part didn’t want to give your ex the satisfaction of running to another man for help.
You looked over at Javi as you tried to hide the anxiety thrumming through you.“Um, excuse me just a minute,” you said.
You marched over to him, catching his elbow in your hand to guide him back outside. "Mateo, what the fuck are you doing here?” you gritted through your teeth.
“Wanted a beer. Figured I hit up the bar where I have a connection,” he said smugly.
“You showed up here—at my bar—expecting to get free booze? Unbelievable,” you shook your head and crossed your arms, closing yourself off.
“C’mon baby don’t be like that,” he reached out to touch your face. You turned your head away from him in disgust.
“I’m not your baby and you’re not gettin’ anything from me, so get the fuck out of here and don’t come back,” you said sternly.
The two of you went back and forth quietly outside as he tried to appeal to the part of you he knew he’d hurt. It used to work on you when you actually still loved him. You gave him so much of your heart—your life— that he never deserved in the first place.
He wasn’t about to get anything else from you.
You subtly peeked back through the open door of the bar to see if anyone was standing around, possibly waiting to pay or for a refill—anything that you could use as a reason to get out of having this interaction last any longer—when you saw Javi turned around in his chair, watching everything go down.
You turned your focus back to Mateo who had been blabbing on even though you hadn’t been paying any attention.
“Look, can you just—shut the fuck up? I don’t know what you expected to happen here but it’s not going to. Whether its free booze or gettin’ back in my good graces—not gonna happen,” you raised your voice with the hope that he’d understand you’re not fucking around—that you’d get louder if you needed to.
“Pretty rude to tell a guest to shut the fuck up don’t ya think?” he took a step towards you, forcing you to take two backwards.
“You’re not a fuckin’ guest, you’re a trespasser,” you spit back.
“Just let me talk to you,” he said as he reached out to grab your arm.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” you yelled as you jerked your arm from his grip.
“Is there a problem here?” Javi rasped as he lit up a cigarette, slowly slinking his way over to you.
“The fuck do you care? Who the fuck even are you? Some customer? She’s not gonna fuck you, pendejo,” Mateo chuckled.
Javi huffed out a sardonic laugh before taking a long drag of his smoke, his confidence never wavering as he looked down his nose at him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Mateo? Who says somethin’ like that to somebody?” You shoved his shoulder before turning towards Javi, “I’m sorry Javi—go ahead back inside. I’ll take care of this.”
“Are you sure?” Javi said gently. His gaze never broke from yours. He was determined to make sure that when you said you were fine, you really, truly were.
“Yes, it's okay,” you said with an exhale, “nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before.”
He looked at you softly, his deep brown eyes rounded with quiet concern for you. You couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you like that and you barely even knew him. You felt your chest swell at the realization he might care for you at little more than you thought as he walked back to the entrance of the bar. He didn’t go back inside, but instead, leaned by the door frame casually to keep a watchful eye as he smoked.
You turned your attention back to Mateo. “You need to leave. I have to get back to fuckin’ work,” you said with an exhausted eye roll.
“Yeah, okay. Head back to your dead-end life as a small-town bartender. You’re really gonna go far,” he scoffed.
“Oh, fuck you,” you pointed your finger into his chest,” You’re the reason why I even had to take this job! Or did you forget that you dragged me here just to implode my life when somethin’ new and shiny came along? You don’t get to bulldoze your way back into my life cause she likely dumped your sorry ass. Now go on and get the fuck on away from my bar like the fuckin’ dawg you are before I call the cops.”
He stared you down in silence. He knew you were right. There was no way to dispute it. You weren’t the same sad sack he’d left broken and crying on the floor of your shared apartment three years ago.
“Yeah. Got nothin’ to say, huh?” you smirked, “your car is that way you stupid son of a bitch,” you pointed in the direction of his truck.
He walked away with his tail between his legs and one last look back which was met with a stern middle finger from you.
“Sorry piece of shit,” you huffed as you walked back to the front door where Javi was waiting. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. God, that's embarrassin’.”
“So that was the guy?” He chuckled.
“Hey, don’t judge, okay. I was young and stupid—very stupid. Probably still am for the way he can still upset me all this time later,” you sighed as the two of you walked back to the bar.
Javi hopped back up in his chair, “I definitely have no room to judge—but I know you aren’t stupid for loving someone who pulled the wool over your eyes,” he looked up at you with complete sincerity.
“Thanks, Javi,” you said as you reached across the bar top to place a gentle hand on top of his. You didn’t realize you’d lingered a bit too long until he started to rub his thumb lightly against your skin.
You gasped quietly, coming back into your consciousness. “Sorry, uhm—let me get you another drink.”
As you walked to the center of the bar, you picked up the cleared tabs and tips along the way. There were a couple of stragglers chatting by the door as they worked towards saying their goodbyes for the night.
Once they left, it was just you and Javi.
You grabbed the bottle of whiskey and made your way back over to him, pouring it slowly, “tell me when,” you sighed, exhausted. You couldn’t be fucked to care at this point if he took a little extra, but to your surprise he told you to stop at his usual order of two fingers.
“You don’t want more? Last chance,” you laughed.
“No, but I do want you to pour one for yourself,” he said with a persuasive pout.
“I’ve got to start closin’ up, Javi,” you waved him off playfully.
“Well then, I’ll help you close up again and then you’ll pour one for yourself. It’ll go faster with both of us anyway,” he got up off his chair, pushing his drink off to the side so he could stack the chair in its place.
“Javi,” you said with a coy smile and an eye roll.
“What?” he looked at you quizzically, feigning confusion.
“Fine,” you said as you started to stack chairs on the other side of the bar, “but I get to ask you some questions while we close.”
“I’m an open book,” he assured.
“Right,” you said skeptically. As open as a jail cell, you thought to yourself. “So, how long were you with the DEA?”
“Uhh—I guess about 15 years give or take,” he shrugged and stacked another chair on a table.
“How many of those years did you spend in Colombia?” you walked around the bar, wiping it down as you went along.
“About 10 or 11 probably? Kind of all blurred together, ” he responded shortly as he stacked the last chair on a table in the corner.
“Oh, wow! That’s such a long time,” you said somewhat shocked. “So you pretty much had a whole established life down there and everything.”
“I dunno if I’d say established—had to move around a lot. Travel at a moment’s notice. That kinda stuff,” he seemed less enthusiastic the more you asked as he finished making his way around the bar.
“Well, that seems excitin’—was it?” you asked innocently.
He got quiet as he met you back by the bar top, “don’t know if I’d say that either,” he said quickly, “pour your drink, we’re all closed up,” he said.
You thought it was curious how quickly he changed the subject, but you poured yourself a glass anyway.
You swirled the amber liquid under your nose, taking in the warm notes of oak and caramel. “Can’t remember the last time I let myself have a good glass of whiskey,” you smiled as you brought the rim up to your mouth.
You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to your full lips pressed against the glass.
“Mmm,” you hummed, “that’s good shit.”
“I’ll cheers to that,” he agreed and tilted his glass towards you.
You clinked yours against his, the crystal rims meeting with a bright ring, “salud,” you smiled and took another sip.
“Salud,” he tossed back what he had left in his glass.
You lifted up the bottle in a silent ask to see if he wanted more. He gave you a thankful shake of his head, but declined. “Come outside and have a smoke with me though—and bring that gun you said you’ve got. I wanna see you shoot.”
“Uhh—what?” You laughed as you plucked a cigarette from the pack he extended out to you.
“C’mon it’ll be fun—plus, being armed doesn’t mean shit if you can’t shoot,” he grabbed a few empty beer cans from the bag you had filled to line up on the top of the fence outside the bar.
“I hope you know this is fuckin’ patronizin’, Javi,” you teased and followed him anyways, gun in tow.
“I just wanna make sure your ex is too scared to show up here again. I might have some tips for you,” he said with a lopsided grin.
“I don’t remember askin’ you for tips,” you sassed.
He walked over to the side of the building and balanced each can carefully along the uneven wood of the fence. You laughed to yourself at how excited he was about it.
Once the makeshift range was set up, he returned to your side. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said and stepped behind you.
You turned around towards the fence with a huff and grounded your feet to prepare yourself. You placed your cigarette between your lips, letting it dangle loosely as you gripped the gun in your hands then raised your arms until they were out straight. You watched Javi out of the corner of your eye. You swear you saw his breath hitch as he studied the thickness of your thighs as they glistened in the heat while he thought you weren’t paying attention.
“Eyes up here, Peña,” you winked, trying to play off the way his gaze made warmth begin to pool in your lower belly.
He cleared his throat, followed by a raspy “alright, shoot.”
Feeling confident in the way you played it off, you braced yourself and pulled the trigger like it was the most natural thing in the world to you.
A miss.
“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath.
You reset yourself
A graze but still a miss.
“Shit!” You stomped a foot in the dirt, sending a dusty cloud into the air. “Guess I’m kinda rusty. Haven’t made it to the range in a while,” you smirked, slightly embarrassed.
“Give me the gun,” he demanded with his hand outstretched.
“Excuse you, Javier?,” you gasped in offense, ‘May I have the gun, please?’ You mean? Don’t make me tell your daddy you went and lost your manners” you raised a stern eyebrow.
“You wouldn’t,” he walked closer to you, hand still outstretched, waiting for the gun.
“You don’t know me well enough to know if I would or wouldn’t,” you smirked.
“Well…I’d like to,” he kept his eyes locked on yours until you couldn’t take their eagerness anymore.
You smiled coyly and looked away from him, completely caught off guard by his forwardness. The butterflies fluttering in your stomach almost distracted you from your little game of keep away.
“Oh, you’re smooth aren’t ya?” you feigned offense.
He didn’t say anything in response, just plastered a lopsided smirk on his face that all but said “yeah I know” for him.
“May I have the gun? Please?” he pouted as he dragged his thumb across his bottom lip.
You pretended to contemplate giving it to him while your brain felt like it was short-circuiting at his attempt to seduce you into handing it over. You had no doubt that pout usually got him anything he wanted and you didn’t want to give him the immediate win, despite the way he made your pussy clench.
“Please?” he repeated.
You bit your lip and side-eyed him before rolling your eyes and handing it over.
“Fine,” you said and crossed your arms.
“Thank you, hermosa,” he said with a wink.
You stood off to the side, your nervous energy displaced only slightly by the repetitive tapping of your foot as you flicked your cigarette butt into the dirt.
He quietly set himself up, even further back than where you had been standing, then fired off round after round as each can clinked to the ground in succession until they’d all been hit.
“Show off,” you huffed. He shot you a sly smile and slinked back towards you, his chest out proudly.
“So, you want those tips or not?” He teased.
“Fine. Gimme your tips,” you resigned. “How’d you even learn to do that so good anyways?”
“Practice,” he said matter of factly as he re-loaded the gun for you and passed it back.
Before you could shoot off a snarky response, he ran off to gather more cans and set up a new line across the fence before jogging back over to you.
You walked over to the spot you originally chose, much closer than where he’d shot from. He positioned himself behind you to mold your body into what he deemed to be the correct stance. He lightly tapped his knee against the back of one of your legs to get you to spread your legs wider and it shot an unexpectedly strong bolt of arousal to your core. Your breath hitched quietly enough that you hoped he didn’t notice—though the low, half-snicker he huffed out behind you told you your hope was likely useless. As you tried to regain your composure, he placed his hands on your hips to angle your body in the right direction.
You couldn’t help how badly you wanted their warmth to return once he let go.
“Okay—now square your shoulders, put your arms out straight but don’t lock your elbows this time, brace them just enough,” he said as he guided his hands under your arms, his lips so close to your skin his breath tickled the side of your neck, sending another involuntary wave of heat between your legs.
“Um okay, fuck,” you whispered, suddenly lacking in sass after feeling his body pressed against you. You were now acutely aware of how broad his shoulders were as his frame felt like it was engulfing you.
“Okay, now take a deep breath, slowly—in and out—steady yourself,” the low rasp of his voice was so close to you it nearly made your knees give out. “Now, when you’re ready, take the shot,” he said as he backed away to give you space, pleased with his instruction.
You took a moment to breathe one more time in an attempt to refocus yourself now that he had taken a few steps back—but god all you could think about was how the sound of his voice shot straight to your pussy. You wanted to hear it, low and gravely, in your ear as he talked you through something else. You shook your head at your body’s ridiculous response before you pulled the trigger immediately after—as if you were shooting down the thoughts for even fucking crossing your mind.
Clink
You spun around on your heel towards Javi’s direction, your jaw dropped open in amazement at yourself. He smiled back at you, seemingly as proud of your shot as you were.
“Hit one more. Go on,” he smirked as he waved you to turn back around.
“Okay, shoulders back like this, legs out this far, arms—not locked,” you whisper to yourself as you go through the inventory of tips he just gave you. “And breathe,” you exhaled.
Clink
Breathe.
Clink
You jumped up in excitement while Javi came to stand next to you again with a pat on the back and a proud “that’a girl.”
“Thank you, Javi!” You said excitedly as you threw your arms around his neck for an appreciative hug. Your wish to have his hands on you again was granted as he wrapped his arms around your waist cautiously, as if he felt like he might cross a line if he held you any tighter.
You’d come to the conclusion that although he clearly knew the effect he had on women, he was still a born and raised Texas boy at heart. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable despite the way you threw yourself onto him.
You pulled back, your arms still lazily draped over his shoulders as you looked over to the fence, proud that all the cans were now lying on the ground.
You didn’t even realize how close you really were until you turned to face him again. You dragged your eyes from where they’d landed on his lips up until you met his gaze. There was something more behind his eyes now, an ounce of nervous restraint infiltrating their usual intensity.
“Can I…can I kiss you?” He asked as his eyes flitted back and forth between yours in anticipation.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you breathed out as your lashes fluttered.
It started out innocent at first, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he gently pulled your lips to his. Your knees wavered at how soft they felt against yours as his mustache tickled your upper lip. He broke the kiss first, his lips hovering just above yours. He stroked his thumb gently across your cheekbone as he waited for you to be the one to make the next move if you wanted.
You definitely wanted more than that. You needed more than that. The suppressed arousal that threatened to overtake you earlier returned as you surged towards his lips again. He let out a surprised moan into your kiss and tangled his hand in the hair at the back of your head as you deepened it, pulling you closer to him. He teased his tongue across your bottom lip, coaxing you to part your lips wider. You obeyed without hesitation and slowly rolled your tongue against his. He pulled you into his chest harder, more desperate, and licked into your mouth pulling a quiet whimper from you.
“Wanna lock up and meet me at my place?” he murmured against your lips. You nodded your head quickly before he kissed you again and sent you off towards the bar with a light tap on your ass.
You gasped in surprise as you looked back over your shoulder at him, swaying your hips seductively to toy with him. He watched you with furrowed brows, his hand twitching at his side. You jogged back over to him and threw your arms over his shoulders as you crashed your lips against his. When you took a step back, breaking the kiss, he chased after you as you guided him to back you up against your car.
“Follow me?” he asked in between your increasingly desperate kisses.
“Mmm hmm,” you nodded and bit your lip, your pupils already blown out and wild with anticipation.
You’d dated occasionally in the three years since ending things with Mateo—had your fair share of hookups too—but none of them piqued your interest the way Javi did. He was different and you wanted to find out why.
He turned back to look at you in your car one last time before he hopped up into his truck. Once you were out of his direct line of sight, you leaned your forehead against your steering wheel and squealed to yourself.
You followed him off the main road, down a darker gravel road that led to the Peña ranch. Since Javi had returned from Colombia, he and Chucho had worked to build a small suite that extended off the main house so that he could have more privacy. Sleeping in his childhood bedroom as a man in his 40’s just wasn’t very appealing.
You barely had a chance to greet him at the front door before he was on you again. He fumbled trying to get the keys into the deadbolt lock, too focused on keeping himself pressed to you.
You hummed into the kiss, “mmm, do you need me to step out of the way?” He took the brief reprieve to eyeball the lock behind you, finally sliding the key in.
“Nope,” is all he said as the sound of the lock opening hit your ears. He pushed the door open as he dropped his head to your neck, leaving wet kisses against your heated skin. You gasped, then bit your lip as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
He kicked the door closed behind him as he pushed you further backward into the darkness of his apartment until your back hit the wall with a gentle thud. He kept you pinned there as he captured your lips heatedly. You fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, your fingers shaking in anticipation for whatever plans he had for you. Once you’d managed to pop the final one open, he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders without ever breaking the kiss.
You began to toy with his belt buckle, but before you could tear it open, he dragged his hands up the soft skin under your shirt and removed it over your head in one smooth motion. This was the only time he hesitated as he took time to revel in your tits being bare for him for the first time.
Your chest heaved under the heat of his gaze as you looked up at him through your lashes. He cupped your cheek gently before he pulled you back in for a breathless kiss and started walking you backwards towards his bedroom. The closer you got, the more impatient both of you became, panting and gripping at each other in a frantic manifestation of the tension that had been building for weeks now.
When the back of your legs hit his bed, you laughed devilishly as he pushed you backwards onto the mattress. He leaned on an arm, hovering above you as he dipped his head to suck your nipple into his mouth.
You hissed at the sensation of his tongue rolling against it, your head tilting back as you arched into him, needy for more. You fumbled with the button on your shorts with a frustrated whine.
“I got you, hermosa, hold on,” he mumbled against your skin as he kissed his way down your soft curves. As he moved to undo the metal button, he planted slow kisses across your belly where the top of your shorts sat.
“Javi,” you whined and rolled your hips in frustration.
“So impatient,” he rasped as he pulled your zipper down, "Now, stand up,” he commanded, his voice even more low and gravely than when he was instructing you back at the bar.
You obeyed, unsteady on your legs, your pussy aching for any kind of touch when he pulled your shorts and panties off your hips together, letting them crumple to the floor around your feet.
You stood in front of him, now completely bare, a weird mix of vulnerability and want coursing through you as he exhaled sharply through his nose. You studied each other as quiet pants filled the room when your eyes dropped to where the outline of his cock was straining against his jeans. Desire coursed through you as you closed the space between you, your fingers delicately pulling on the waistband of his jeans before sliding down to undo his belt buckle. Once it clinked open, you wasted no time undoing them the rest of the way, your hand immediately dipping under the waistband to grip his length.
Your mouth dropped open at how thick he was as he throbbed in your grip. You rolled your thumb over the tip where slick precum was already leaking from him, “oh my god, Javi,” you breathed.
Unable to take anymore, you helped him peel off his jeans as you kneeled onto the floor in front of him. He hissed as he finally sprung free, enamored by the way you watched as it bounced in front of your face.
You scooted closer to him on your knees and looked up innocently as you wrapped your hand around his girth before you gently kissed his leaking head. He exhaled long and slow above you, as if he’d been holding his breath the entire night until now. You let out a pleased hum as you licked the underside of his tip before wrapping your lips around it and pulling off again with a pop.
“Fuck,” he panted, almost pathetically. You whined as you took him between your lips again and started stroking his shaft with slow movements of your wrist. He reached down and twisted his fingers in your hair, his jaw dropped as he watched you work him before he slowly started to guide your movements, gently pushing and pulling you up and down his length.
When you switched up and swallowed him all the way to the base, he choked out a moan and cursed under his breath before pulling you off and forcing you to stand. Before you could even get your bearings, he pulled you into him for a breathless kiss and walked you backwards to the bed. You scooted yourself back further onto the mattress as he chased your mouth, his length gently tapping against your dripping core as he moved between your legs.
You looked up at him, heated as your chest heaved. He sat back on his knees, taking all of you in before crossing the point of no return—when the only thing that matters is chasing his own release. You whined quietly as you spread your legs slowly, watching him intensely as his eyes turned even darker as they dropped to your throbbing heat. He only took one last look up to your face before he was on top of you again. You gripped his shoulders desperately as he lined himself up against your entrance and pushed himself in with the same unbridled franticness that brought you here to begin with. You gasped at the sudden stretch, your arm lifting up behind you to involuntarily grip onto the headboard as he groaned into the crook of your neck as if he’d been waiting to feel you his entire life.
You both stilled for a moment as you adjusted to him inside of you, fluttering around him as he twitched and throbbed. “Feel so good, baby—fuck,” he breathed against your skin. You hummed as you kissed his shoulder before scraping your teeth against his skin, overwhelmed by the way he filled you.
That was your last moment of stillness before he started fucking into you wildly, all the tension you’d built between you in the last few months translating into the way he thrusted his body into yours. You clutched at his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist, holding on as you let him overtake you.
Small gasps and moans punched out of you with every thrust of his hips, pulling increasingly loud grunts from deep in his throat. The sounds of your pussy squelching around him as his skin slapped against yours filled the room, spurring the both of you on even more. You rolled your hips against his, meeting each thrust as you chased your orgasm.
He hovered over your lips as you shared pants between needy, messy kisses before he adjusted himself to hook one of your legs in the nook of his elbow. Your eyes fluttered shut as a loud cry escaped your lips from the deepness of the new angle and the way it allowed him to rub perfectly against that sweet spot inside your walls. The pressure that had been building inside you was threatening to finally explode.
“That it right there, hermosa?” he choked out, looking down at you with glazed over eyes, completely lost in his pursuit to see you fall apart around him.
“Ohhh, yes, mmhmm,” you panted as you dipped a hand down to rub delicate circles against your clit. The contrast between the slow drag of your fingers through your slick and the pace he fucked you pushed you that much closer to your end.
What finally sent you over was the way he groaned, long and low, when he looked down between your bodies and realized you were touching yourself. You eyes squeezed shut as your body seized in his arms, your free arm flying up to wrap around his shoulder to hold on as he fucked you through your orgasm and chased his own.
He followed behind you shortly after as he dropped your leg and braced himself on both arms, entrapping you between them. He kissed you as his thrusts stuttered and lost their rhythm, then came with a wrecked sound, grinding his hips into you as he spurted hot ropes inside your walls. His hands had become wrapped in your hair and he kept them there as he slowly rolled his hips, fucking his spend deeper inside of you. You hissed under him and guided his lips to yours, then teasingly rolled your tongue against his bottom lip.
“Mmm,” you moaned quietly into his mouth as you both came down from your high, your breath beginning to steady though he was still buried inside you.
“Did so good, hermosa,” he rasped hotly against your neck before he leaned himself up on one arm to look down at the fucked out look on your face. “So fucking pretty,” he murmured as he traced his thumb across your cheekbone in a deceptively sweet gesture.
You blinked your eyes slowly, completely exhausted in your post-orgasm bliss as he pulled out of you with a strangled groan. You sighed at the loss of his thickness as he rolled onto his back next to you.
You scooted yourself into his side, draping an arm over his middle and rested your head against his chest as you traced your fingers lazily against his skin. As you settled again, he stroked your hair absentmindedly as you both returned to your bodies. You laid still in the quiet of his room, letting the rise and fall of his chest ground you.
Eventually, he rolled over to reach over to his nightstand and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter that were there waiting for him. He pushed himself up so that his back was against the headboard before he brought the cigarette to his lips and placed the flame to the tip.
You sighed and propped yourself up on an elbow as you watched him take a long drag. You smirked at how fucked out he looked as he handed it to you for a hit. You lazily plucked it from his fingers and brought it to your kiss-swollen lips, inhaling slowly before passing it back to him. You let yourself savor the buzz of the nicotine as it injected some life back into you.
Finally, Javi spoke.
“Holy shit,” he huffed with a lop-sided smirk.
“You can fuckin’ say that again,” you shot back as you collapsed into his pillows.
He chuckled under his breath and passed the cigarette to you again. As you stared at the ceiling and took another drag, your mind went back to the bar earlier. The images of the way his face dropped and demeanor changed when you were asking him questions ran through our head. You started to connect that his gruff exterior might be some kind of defense mechanism—a way to keep himself safe from a threat that no longer exists. You weren’t fully knowledgeable about what happened to him while he was gone, but you wanted to be able to give him a space to talk about it. Be someone who could try to understand. To make him see that he doesn’t have to shut himself off.
You delicately handed the cigarette back to him as you contemplated, spurred on by your growing care for him as you asked, “you know, earlier, at the bar?”
“Yeah, which part?” he sighed as he scooted himself back down the bed, his head coming to land on the pillow next to yours.
“The part when we were asking each other questions…I feel like we didn’t get to finish since we had closed up and then…well,” you laughed.
“Okay,” he laughed skeptically, “what else do you wanna know?”
“Well,” you paused briefly, “you seemed to have it pretty good here before you went to Colombia. What made you wanna leave?”
He pursed his lips as he averted his eyes elsewhere—anywhere but your face.
He shrugged, “I just—wanted to make a difference. Wanted to help people.”
“That’s very admirable of you,” you said as you turned onto your side to face him.
“If you say so,” he breathed out as he reached over to stub the last of the cigarette out in the ashtray.
“Oh stop, of course it is,” you smiled, “did you like it there? Since you were down there for so long?”
“There were things I liked—was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, warm people…” he trailed off.
“…but,” you started.
You waited as the air hung thick with all the words you thought he might’ve liked to say, but couldn’t—or didn’t want to. He laid there, his brow furrowed in concentration, his jaw tensing and releasing as he thought.
“Saw a lot of people die…” the lines between his eyebrows deepened even more, “…I hurt a lot of people,” he said it as if the words were ripped from his throat involuntarily by some force outside of him.
“Oh Javi, I’m so sorry…I’m sure you only did what you had to do,” you looked at him affectionately.
“Would you stop that?” He asked defensively.
“Wh—stop what?” you sat up quickly.
“Acting like everything I tell you is fine or justifiable. You have no fucking idea what I did or didn’t have to do,” he said as he stood from the bed.
A jolt of anxiety replaced your previous sense of calm, the sudden shift in his demeanor shook you. Your hands started to shake and your brain got fuzzy as a lump formed in your throat.
“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything wrong! I just—” you stopped short.
“You just what? Want a chance to act like everyone else around here when it comes to my own experience?”
“No, Javi, I—” you went to start again before he cut you off again.
“You what?” he scoffed.
“Nothing, nothing. I’m sorry,” you stuttered.
“I think you should go,” he sighed as he sat up on the edge of the bed.
You looked at him with watery eyes, but willed yourself to keep them from falling. You didn’t even really know this man. You weren’t going to leave with him seeing you cry.
“Yeah, you’re right. I should,” you said as you raised from his bed to gather your clothes that had been scattered around the room. You hurriedly and silently slipped yourself into your shorts, shoving your panties in a pocket before pulling your tank over your head.
You watched from the corner of your eye as Javi grabbed his jeans from the floor and pulled them on, running his hands over his face in frustration.
All you could think about as you headed for the door was how relieved you were that you drove your own car.
You could hear his footsteps as he caught up behind you, “hey, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t even worry ‘bout it. Should’ve just minded my fuckin’ business,” you said without even looking in his direction as you shoved your feet into your shoes.
As you went to turn the doorknob, he stopped you by placing his hand on top of yours. You turned to look at him for the first time since he told you to leave. You could read the remorse all over his face. The part of you that cares for him wanted to make it better. The other part wondered if you needed to be more careful around him. For all you know, he could be dangerous. He said he’s hurt people and just you let yourself go home with him without anyone else knowing where you were.
As if he were reading your mind, he resigned and dropped his hand. You kept your stare focused on his as you swung the door open, then turned away without looking back as you stepped over the threshold.
After that night you didn’t see him again for at least a month. Maybe longer. It was hard to tell after you decided to push everything about him from your mind the best you could—the intensity of his gaze, the way he lit a cigarette, the way the lights in the bar softened his features…the way he fucked you. You didn’t know if you should be hurt or angry or—hell—even just indifferent about how things went down. It’s not like the two of you really were anything outside of some heavy flirting and a quick hookup.
You’ve never been one to not be able to move on from a one-night stand. Why does this one feel so awful?
You guessed you couldn’t really blame him for not coming back. After sitting with your thoughts after you’d left his place, you felt awful for prodding him about it. You should’ve just left it alone after he got short with you at the bar that night. Whatever walls he built that you wanted to try and take a peek through were very clearly up for a reason. You just hoped that you’d be able to slowly tear them down. What you didn’t anticipate was that even just a few basic questions about his past could spur such a response.
That is, until you truly understood his past wasn’t a normal one.
It’s not like you could call him to apologize—you never exchanged numbers— and you didn’t think it was your place to ask for his number from someone else. You didn’t know if he’d want to be contacted. All of your interactions besides when he took you home were in this bar. You didn’t even know if he was still in Laredo or if he had accepted one of those teaching positions he talked about interviewing for.
Even though Laredo was a small town, Javi kept a relatively low profile for someone everybody pretended to know everything about. His absence only added fuel to their gossip, none of which should be taken seriously, but you guessed you weren’t the only one who hadn’t seen him around much lately, if at all.
You were stocking the bar, getting the place ready to open for the evening. It was a Saturday, so you were trying to make sure you had everything you’d need without having to run off to grab things constantly. The owner, Mike, had come in to help you out today as there had been a particularly large delivery that would’ve been difficult for you to manage alone before opening the doors. The two of you worked quietly, randomly cracking jokes or asking questions as you went along.
You walked over to a corner table to start taking chairs down and started to make your way down the row when you heard a knock at the entrance. You spun around, ready to tell whoever it was that you weren’t quite open just yet, but you were met with a familiar pair of soft brown eyes. You froze in place, as if you saw a ghost, as you wracked your brain for words. The two of you kept your eyes locked on each other. Javi opened his mouth like he was getting ready to say something when your boss rounded the bar to greet him.
“Well hey there, Javi, come on over here and have a seat at the bar. I’ll pour you up somethin’ real quick,” he patted him on the back as he guided him to the bar, giving you an opportunity to disappear into the back office.
“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you flopped into a desk chair. Your heart was racing in your chest. You leaned forward and propped your elbows up on the desk to hide your face in your hands, your foot frantically tapping against the floor as anxiety flooded you.
You jumped when Mike quietly knocked on the door as he entered the office.
“Fuck, you scared me,” you breathed out with your hand placed over your heart. You tried to act normally, a smile plastered on your face as he side-eyed you. You grabbed the cash drawer and started counting as he hovered.
“You wanna talk about somethin’?” he said with an eyebrow raised.
“Uhh, no? Why?” you said before you started mumbling numbers to yourself as you continued counting the coins.
He sighed heavily at your avoidance, “just go and talk to him.”
“What do you mean? Talk to who?” you asked as if there wasn’t one other person besides the two of you in the bar.
He gave you an incredulous stare, “Peña.”
You rolled your eyes, “Ugh…how did you know?”
“Larry was in here with Luisa the other night. Didn’t know much but you know how that goes with her. I put two n’ two together,” he chuckled.
“Good Ol’ Luisa,” you laid back in the chair with a heavy sigh. “Fine—but if I’m not back in 20 minutes, get your gun,” you teased.
As you appeared from the office, Javi stood from his seat at the bar. He fidgeted with the sunglasses in his hands as you marched over to him with purpose and caught him by the elbow.
“Outside,” is all you said as you led him out the door. You pushed him further out, away from the entrance and closer to your car where there was a little more privacy from any potential prying eyes.
“Really didn’t think I’d see you back around here this time for sure,” you said as you crossed your arms tight across your chest, “think I’m gonna have to revoke your free drink pass though.”
That earned you a light chuckle from him, “guess that’s fair.”
“But really, what are you here for? There’s five other bars within a two mile radius you could hit up,” you questioned as you tilted your head curiously.
“I like this bar,” he smirked.
“Javier—” you rolled your eyes, “you can’t flirt your way outta this one.”
“I know…I know,” he paused briefly in between his thoughts, “I, uh—I just wanted to come apologize to you. I know I shouldn’t have waited this long to do it but the way I acted towards you has been eating at me and—I’m sorry. I’m trying to get better about that,” he said as he averted his eyes.
You let a silence settle between you before you got brave enough to finally make your own apology.
You took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly as you started,“if I’m bein’ honest…I’ve been wantin’ to apologize to you too,” you confessed.
“To me? For what? I was the asshole,” he looked at you, puzzled.
“Well—for crossing a line. I pushed too far. I was just curious about you, I guess,” you sighed.
“Everyone seems to be,” he scoffed.
“Maybe so,” you spoke gently, “but I don’t think my motives are quite the same as theirs,” you said with a knowing eyebrow raised.
“What do you mean?” He shifted in place and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I actually wanted to know you,” you said softly.
He was quiet as he absorbed your words. It almost seemed foreign that someone was apologizing to him—as if he’s always been the one who’s had to apologize no matter how much he’d been hurt by others.
“Uhm—thank you,” he said quietly, “navigating things since I’ve been back—it’s been hard. Everywhere I go people tell me I’m a hero, but every time they do all I’m reminded of is my failures when I just—kind of want to forget.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me, Javi,” you reached out to gently rub his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m so sorry—the last thing I wanted was to make you feel that way too.”
He sighed heavily, like a weight had been lifted off his chest, “Well, in other news—I wanted to tell you I was offered a job,” he said.
“Oh my god, that’s fuckin’ great! Which school offered?” You asked excitedly.
“Uh, A&M International,” he smiled—one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
A real one, a modestly proud one.
“That’s perfect since you wanted to stay close. You’ll be right up the street! I’m sure your Pops is thrilled. How you feelin’ about all of it?” you smiled back. You truly were happy for him. It was a chance to give himself a purpose again. A chance to try to move on.
He chuckled under his breath, “actually kind of nervous. I don’t remember starting a new job feeling so daunting.”
“You’re gonna be great. I bet you’ll be everyone’s favorite instructor in no time,” you teased.
He laughed, “I’m not so sure about that.”
“What? Are you gonna be a hard-ass or somethin’ professor Peña?” You smirked playfully.
“I guess we’ll find out,” he shrugged.
“Well, come on back inside. I’ll reinstate your free drink pass for a celebration. I promised it to ya anyway.”
After the two of you had cleared your consciences between yourselves, there wasn’t very much time wasted in the two of you starting to hook up again.
You decided instead of trying to learn about the old Javi, you’d put it to rest and try to learn the new Javi—though it all still lingered in the back of your mind.
As you started to spend more time with him, the cracks of what neither of you dared to talk about increasingly showed. It could be anything from him going quiet of a sudden, his eyes focused somewhere off in the distance like he wasn’t present with you, here, on this plane of existence to giving himself overly harsh criticisms, especially after he started his new job. Nothing he did, in his eyes, was good enough. He never thought he was giving enough during his lectures or during office hours, even though he’d stay late frequently or bring work home with him.
At least with that, you could reassure him. Tell him it’s okay. That it’s something new and no one is expecting him to be perfect at it yet—but you always wished you could do something more.
You forced yourself to avoid questioning him or acknowledging the other stuff.
If he wanted to talk about anything more serious, you’d let him do it on his own terms.
You guess you convinced yourself that as long as he kept fucking you like a man with nothing to lose, you could accept it. It was a little routine you’d carved out for yourselves—a night of flirting at the bar before he’d take you home to completely ruin you for anyone else.
It still left an empty feeling in your chest every time you’d gather your things to leave. Sometimes he’d walk you to the door to give you a goodbye kiss so intense that it made you wonder if this time could be the last time. Sometimes he’d have already fallen asleep next to you after laying together quietly—but you never stayed the night after the two of you had been wrapped up together in his sheets no matter how close you felt like you were growing.
You did it to protect yourself and you assumed he never asked you to stay for the same reason.
You chant his name over and over as he pounds into you. Your fingers grip the sheets as if they’re the only thing tethering you to the Earth while behind you, Javi grunts and pants, drunk on the way the flesh of your ass bounces against his hips with each thrust.
“You’re close aren’t you, hermosa?” he chokes out.
“Yes, yes,” you moan, tears now freely streaming from your eyes and staining the sheets.
“Fuck, wanna give you what you pretty girl. You want it?”
“Please,” you cry out.
“You gotta tell me who’s pussy this is,” he slows his pace, dragging himself through your velvety walls tauntingly slowly. He knows that it drives you insane—that you love the way you can feel every inch of him this way.
All you can do underneath him at this point is whimper pathetically.
He leans over your back so he can rasp into your ear, “easy, hermosa. I’ve got you,” he murmured nearly incoherently, “now, tell me who’s pussy this is.”
“Fuck Javi!” you whine as he plants wet kisses to your shoulder.
He groans behind you as he tries to maintain the little control he has left, “I know pretty girl, tell me—please.”
You hummed in satisfaction hearing him start to beg now as he pulses inside of you. You know as soon as you say it, he’ll be sent over the edge.
“Oh my god, Javi,” you pant as you start to fuck yourself back on him needily as you chase your end, “it’s yours. It’s yours.”
You repeat it over and over until you see white flash behind your eyelids as you come with a silent moan, your mouth in a perfect O before a wrecked cry pulls from your chest. Your body goes limp in his arms as he continues fucking you through the length of your orgasm.
A strangled moan pulls from his lips as his thrusts falter and his grip on your hips tightens, “fuck, fuck,” he pants as he thrusts hard into you one last time before he swells and spills into you with a drawn out moan.
You whimper underneath him with every twitch of his cock as he paints your walls with thick ropes. As he comes down from his high, he finally allows your hips to sink back down to the bed while he drapes himself over your back, kissing and nipping at the crook of your neck while he holds you.
“Mmm,” you hum, a satisfied grin spread across your lips as your breathing returns to normal. Javi intertwines his fingers in yours as he places reverent kisses across your back.
You gasp quietly when he reluctantly drags himself from your heat and collapses onto his back next to you. You lay there, the grin still plastered on your face and your eyes fluttered closed in complete contentment.
He props himself on his side before he brings a hand over to caress the soft flesh of your ass, “you okay, hermosa?”
“I’m fuckin’ great. So great,” you giggle exhaustedly.
“C’mere,” he whispered and rolled onto his back again so that he could guide you to lay on his chest.
You snuggle up beside him and rest in your usual post-sex spot, counting down the time to when you’ll have to leave again. After the exhausting session you just had, you figure it’ll be a fall asleep night instead of a goodbye kiss night.
You lay with him in the quiet until the light circles he was tracing on your arm slow to a stop, your sign that you need to open your eyes before you fall asleep here too. You stealthily sit up and slink from under the sheets without disturbing him too much. As usual, once the weight of you isn’t holding him in place, he instinctively rolls over onto his side, his back facing you, as he settles again.
You sit on the edge of the bed and with one last look back at his sleeping form, you lean over and place a delicate kiss to his exposed shoulder before you rise from the bed to search for your dress in the dark.
Once you find it, you carefully sit back down and slip it over your head, taking one last moment before you head towards the door.
This became your normal.So you’re completely thrown off guard when you feel a hand wrap around your wrist as you go to stand, followed by a still half-asleep, “stay.”
Tagging some folks who showed interest (sorry if I forget anyone I don't have a proper tag list or anything lol) @ak-vintage @gothcsz @bergamote-catsandbooks @myownwholewildworld @cozymochaa @kedsandtubesocks
I have zero excuses for why it’s taken me so long to read this but OH MY GOD it was everything I wanted it to be. The chemistry between Javi and the reader character was electric, and I’m always obsessed with your command of Javi’s voice. He’s so, so clear when you write him, and it makes me fall in love with him all over again every time.
Also, hello, soooo hot? 😵💫😮💨🥵 I need some of Javi’s cigarette now too 😂
summary: After the kiss by the pool, pope runs away to his room. he's not sure if he's running from you or waiting for you.
|| pope cody x reader || smut MDNI 18+ angst, some fluff, it's got it all, baby! pope is socially awkward and shy (at least at first), touchstarved!pope, jealous!pope, pope has some violent thoughts about asshole who touched you, but reader loves it and is turned on by it, fake dating trope, requited love, non canon timeline, character study, pinv, warning: mentions of smurf being fucking weird, breast play, sweet to rough, f!receiving oral, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, both reader and pope have a praise kink, sorry the smut gets real nasty but pope gets nasty when he's into it ||
wc: 7.5k
part one | part two | masterlist
He had hidden in his room the second he could walk across the yard without sporting a tent in his jeans.
Nobody really cared enough to notice anyway. Except maybe Deran, who had laughed at him wrapped in a towel around his lap as he made his way inside. And Craig, who’d caught his eye from across the yard with that huge shit-eating grin splitting across his face. Pope had practically bolted into the house without another glance at either of his brothers.
He wasn’t sure where you’d gone either—probably back into the party with Nicky trailing behind again, but he kept wondering if your lips still tingled too. If you kept touching them absentmindedly the way he did now.
He'd stayed in his room, just sitting, listening, waiting.
He sat and watched the daylight crawl slowly across his walls for hours, the room now dark except for the weak yellow spill from the outside lights coming through his curtains. The party finally began to thin out over the last few hours, the house settling into quiet little by little. Pope sat stock still on the edge of his bed in his same jeans, same shirt, his shoes toed off by the door.
Every so often his tongue would drag unconsciously across his bottom lip, catching phantom traces of you. If he closed his eyes and let his mind wander a bit, he could still feel the warmth of your mouth against his. And that little gasp you'd made when he'd kissed you back…
His cock had finally gone down enough to stop hurting sometime in the last hour, but not fully. The denim of his jeans still stiff and awkward over it, and twice he’d thought about jerking off just to make the ache stop, but the idea died immediately every time he looked at the bedroom door. Smurf never allowed locks in the house. What in the world would you have to hide from your mother? she'd said once. I've seen it all anyway, baby.
So Pope sat there instead with his spine tight and his jaw tighter, listening to the sounds drifting through the house beyond his walls.
At one point, sometime around one or maybe two, when he thought it was safest, he’d finally gotten up for a glass of water because the house had gone so quiet he figured everybody must’ve finally left. But the second he stepped into the kitchen and looked out through the windows over the sink, he saw you and J in the pool together in the empty backyard.
Blue underwater lights rippled over you while you splashed at each other playfully in the deep end, your body only a mirage beneath the water from where he stood. Pope had frozen there with the cabinet door still hanging open beside him, unable to move while he watched you float backward through the water giggling, hair pulled up on top of your head, J swimming after you through the glowing light.
Pope had returned to his room and sat for a while longer, though he wasn't sure how long anymore. Only that his thoughts had gone from a little ashamed of how hard you'd made him to downright possessive and angry and wishing he could just be normal, normal enough to stay out at the party all day, to find you again, to kiss you again. To make you explain to him what you'd meant.
At some point—he couldn't tell if it was minutes or hours later—he heard the door to his bedroom open.
He first thought maybe it was one of his brothers coming to say goodbye, though he knew better. They never did that anymore. Then his stomach tightened at the thought it might be Smurf checking in on him, asking him why he'd disappeared all night, why he looked so wound up.
But then he heard your voice, and his neck turned so fast he nearly put a crick in it.
“Hi,” you whispered.
His eyes were on you in an instant, standing there in the doorway with the warm light from the hallway turning most of you into silhouette, but he could still make out the tiny strings of your bikini at your hips. Your denim shorts were gone.
Pope opened his mouth automatically, but nothing came out at first. His throat felt tight in a way he didn’t know how to fix, so he cleared it roughly before managing a quiet: “Hi.”
“Can…I come in?”
He nodded once and immediately looked away from you again, eyes fixing hard on the curtains over his window. You sighed softly and stepped further into the room.
“J just, um, went to bed,” you explained. You didn't sit down or make yourself comfortable. It felt like neither of you really knew what to do or why you'd come in here at all. Pope could smell the chlorine follow you inside, the smell of your shampoo stronger now that your hair had gotten damp.
"Listen—Andrew…" you said with a sigh, clutching your fists a little tighter.
"It's fine," he said softly. "You don't have to explain."
"I—" you started, but then paused. Maybe because you hadn't expected him to say anything at all. But the blood was pounding through his veins now, his head going in circles. So many times today he wished he could snatch you from Asshole's arm, to tell J to go fuck off to one of his other girlfriend's houses. But he couldn't. When he'd open his mouth, he knew it would only scare you. He scared everyone, after all. And he was too afraid of what you'd do if you realized just how violent his most inner thoughts really were. He wasn't even sure why he had them, why he thought that way. Maybe it was the only way people actually listened to him was when he got angry. A ticking time bomb, his brothers called him.
"I want to explain, though." you said. "Is…that okay?"
Pope still couldn't really look at you again, but your question caught him off guard all the same. He spared a glance up, and immediately regretted it. He could just make out the reflection of the light in your eyes, the pearl drops of water from your hair dripping onto your shoulders.
He nodded, hands tightly strained on his knees.
Slowly, you sat beside him then, and took a deep breath.
"I… should've told you the truth sooner." you said gently. "And…I know I shouldn't have pounced on you like that."
He could feel the warmth of the long day of sun on you, so close his body as you turned towards him. He didn’t even care if whether or not your bathing suit was wet on his bed. Though he did wish wished he could reach over and find out for himself. The little ties were so close, just barely up against his jeans now. Normally that sort of thing would wring his mind to no end— the wet spot on the comforter, the sheets underneath, whether it would soak through and make him feel it later when he tried to sleep—but right then all he could think about was the bare line of your thigh beside his and the small drop of water sliding from your hair to your shoulder and down your arm.
You sighed when he didn't answer. "Andrew? Are we… okay?"
He nodded just once, almost more of a tick than a real answer. Why did he have to be like this? He had no clue what to say, what to do to make it right. And as his hands were still clenched on the planes of his thighs, rubbing just a little back and forth over his knees, he thought there had to be were words somewhere. He knew there were. Other people found them and put them in the right order and made girls want to be beside them instead of having to sit through this awful silence.
Your hand came down onto his arm. Oh, you were so cold. Your fingers frozen from the pool water, but somehow still warm where you sat next to him, the touch spreading under his skin until his whole arm felt too aware of itself.
"Did I make you uncomfortable today?" you murmured, "If I did...I'm sorry."
He shook his head quickly before squeezing his eyes shut. No—no, no no. That made it so much worse. That you thought it was you who did something wrong. That you were apologizing to him. When it had been him hiding in his room like a dog with his tail between his legs, his dick in his pants going between strained and half hard over a kiss.
"No." he finally said. And then, pulling all the courage of a man who had robbed banks, who had fought for less and killed for far higher stakes than a kiss, he looked up into your eyes.
"I've wanted…that…too."
You blinked at him, your mouth parting only a little. He wanted to bring his hand up to your face, or to where the shine of a water droplet slid down your neck. The room seemed smaller now, now that he'd said the thing that had kept him locked in his own head this whole time.
"You… want…?"
"Yes." he whispered immediately. Instead of reaching up like he'd wished, he settled for something more gentle, easier. He had done the thing, he had jumped off the cliff, waiting to hit the water below. Whether he'd live through the fall or not, he'd done it. He brought his hand up to cover yours where it laid on the crook of his elbow. So careful at first, unsure if he was allowed to. But his fingers curled more firmly around yours as your eyes softened up at him.
"Show me." you whispered.
Pope's mouth parted under your changed gaze, the soft look in your eyes shifting in the dim bedroom light. He noticed how dark they'd gotten, your pupils taking up that pretty color of your eyes. They'd looked so nice in the sunlight today too, but he thought he maybe liked them like this best—reflecting the weak light from the hallway, glazed as you watched him lick his lips.
His hand moved up your arm, achingly slow—still unsure, still wanting to do the right thing. Your skin was so fucking soft, warm from the heat of the day, cold where the water still pearled on your skin. His thumb caught on one of those little drops and dragged it up the inside of your arm, spreading it thin until it disappeared under his touch.
He leaned in.
His breath felt so heavy coming out of him, even as shallow as it was. His chest hurt with the effort of keeping himself still when every part of him wanted to grab, pull, take. That was the part he didn’t trust. He could feel it sitting under his skin, mean and hungry and too big for the quiet room.
You were so close again, so close he could feel the breath of your shaky lungs on his face. And then you were holding it. A small, cute little gasp before he was brushing his lips against yours.
He pulled back just as quickly as he touched you, but it was no matter. You were following him, not letting him run away or listen to the fears that screamed in his head to run and hide like always. How could a man rob banks and commit the worst crimes of humanity and not be able to fucking kiss a woman?
It all happened very fast.
One moment, it was just him, brushing his lips against yours, pulling away, uncertain, and now—now you were slotting your mouth with his, warm and wet and so eager that the sound he made got caught between you. His hand tightened once on your arm before he made himself loosen it again. Careful. Careful. He had to be careful with you.
He let you push him back, your still partially wet body climbing over him, knobby knees bracketing his wide thighs, your hands pushing into his hair. The mattress dipped under the shift of your weight, springs giving a dull little creak beneath you both. Your damp skin pressed through his shirt, cold at first, then warm, then all he could think about.
"You're so—" he whispered, "—cold—"
He wasn't sure if that was the right word—your skin was actually scorching from the sunshine all day, but your hair that dripped down, your hands that carded through his hair—they were so cold it made his skin rise in goosebumps. Little beads of water fell from the ends of your hair and landed on his neck, his collar, the hollow beneath his throat. His whole body kept reacting before his head could catch up.
"Warm me up then, Andy," you murmured before diving back into him.
He let his hands finally reach out to rest gently on your hips. He wanted to be so, so careful. Didn't want to spook you. Didn't want to move too fast and see your eyes change. But there was something about you today—something new, something changed. A bravery he'd never seen in you before, not like this, not turned directly on him. Asking for exactly what you wanted.
"Touch me," you said, one of your hands coming from his hair, down to his hand where it gently laid over your hip. You brought his hand closer, sliding it over the skin of your waist, up to your ribcage.
His palm followed because you told it to. Because your hand was over his. Because you were breathing harder now and looking down at him like he wasn’t too much, like you wanted every awful thing he was trying to keep leashed. His thumb brushed the curve beneath your breast, and he stopped there, frozen, throat working around nothing.
You sat back then on your haunches, onto his aching denim covered length that strained and throbbed beneath this layers. He was panting harder than ever before, just staring at you, the silhouette of the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. You were so fucking pretty, that was the word. Pretty eyes, pretty hair, pretty as your hands folded behind you, then lifted to the strings at your neck, untying it all, letting it fall onto his chest with a wet slap.
Oh.
Oh, you were so pretty.
"You think so?" you giggled.
Fuck, did he say that out loud?
"Yeah," he said hoarsely.
The bikini top sat bunched against his shirt, damp, useless, but he couldn’t stop looking at you. At the way your skin rose in goosebumps too. Your chest rising with every breath while you waited for him to do something. His hands flexed.
"Want you to touch me, Andy, please."
He would never make you beg, not tonight. You'd never have to beg him to do anything. It was he—he who should be begging you, thanking you. He brought his hands up again, only skating them both over your ribcage, careful even now, careful enough to make his arms tremble. His palms spread over your sides, thumbs moving just beneath the soft weight of your breasts.
Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, a gasp of breath inhaled from your lips.
He didn't touch you fully yet, his hands flattened just under your breasts, cupping the weight of them from beneath—perfect. You weren't just pretty—you were—
"Perfect," he said, sitting up a little, pushing his hands up under your breasts to squish them together before putting his mouth over your nipple.
The sweetest little moan escaped your lips as he latched onto you.
"Oh, fuck—" you whimpered, your hands going immediately back to his hair.
He moaned louder into you, the sound coming up rough from his chest before he could stop it. Your skin tasted like chlorine, that same smell of apple shampoo and sunscreen still caught on you, stronger where his nose brushed against the curve of your breast. Your nipple was cold to his touch, a little damp from your swimsuit, but it warmed under the wet muscle of his tongue as he flattened it over you, brushing up and around before nipping lightly.
Your hips jerked at that.
He kissed across your chest, down the valley between your breasts, and then did the same to the other. He noticed everything—the hitching of your breath, how you moaned louder when he bit down on the peaked nub of your nipple. He felt how you were starting to grind down on his aching cock, the seam of his jeans catching hard against him each time your hips moved.
"Feels so good, Andy, oh god—" you moaned, throwing your head back as you pushed your hips harder onto him.
"You're—" he breathed between moans ,"you're so good, baby."
"Yeah?" you said, a breathless little smile pulling your lips wide as you looked down at him. He was looking up at you—and he knew how it looked. His eyes wide, glossy, like you hung the fucking moon for him. Your mouth opened, the smile wiped off your lips when he took the other breast in his big hand—big enough to squeeze and cup and pinch your cute little peaked nipple hard.
"Oh, oh Pope—Andy, Andy—I might—I think I might come like this—please don't stop. You're so good, Andy, you're doing so good—please don't stop—"
He wouldn't fucking dare.
He moaned at the praise, eyes fluttering shut, only to open again because he wanted to watch. Needed to watch. He wanted to see every change in your eyes, the rising heat in your cheeks, the way your lips parted around his name. Praise did something ugly and sweet to him. It went straight through his ribs and down to his dick, making it strain against his pants even worse.
Good. You thought he was good. And you were saying it like you meant it, like there wasn’t a single part of him you needed to flinch from.
Both of your hands were in his hair now, nails scraping his scalp. He could swear he was purring like a kitten in your hold, his own hips twitching up into the crook of your lap. If he wasn't careful, he could come like this too, untouched except for the wet heat of your body grinding over his jeans and your voice breaking right above him.
You were chanting his name, music to his fucking ears. A symphony only for him—Andy, Andy, Andy—
And then you stopped, your mouth open in a sweet 'o', your eyes wide, head fallen back on your neck as you shook. Your body stayed locked up, and he could swear he felt the pulsing of your cunt over his throbbing length, even through his pants.
He watched, enamored as realization passed through him. He'd done that to you. Him. With his mouth, his hands, his name on your tongue.
He kept kissing your breasts, letting his tongue lave over you hungrily, dragging up and down over your nipple while your body trembled through the last of the pleasure. Finally, your body fell boneless, collapsing over him, your head falling into his shoulder.
"That's it, that's it. S'okay," he said, letting his lips skate over your shoulder. His voice sounded wrecked to his own ears, lower than usual, hoarser. "Come here, lay down."
He turned you over now, letting you lay in his perfectly made bed.
"Don't wanna—" you sighed, letting your arms stretch out, the high of ecstasy making your muscles ache—"don't wanna get your bed wet, Andy."
His stomach did another flutter at the nickname. Even if you'd said it a hundred times, he'd never get used to it. It made him smile.
"Okay if I take these off then?" he whispered, his fingers going to the strings of your bottoms. You hooked your top teeth over your bottom lip, the sweetest little vixen he'd ever seen in his life, and nodded.
"What a sweet girl—" he murmured.
There was something about this—something that had just changed his mind about everything he thought that was true.
Because before, he thought maybe you were only choosing him out by the pool because he was the scariest of the Codys. He was an easy tactic to scare of that Asshole. He was there, sitting practically alone if it weren't for Craig. Maybe you knew he would never say no to you. Maybe he was the idiot for thinking you could feel something else.
But now…
Now, the way you were moaning his name, the way you'd ground down on him like that in his lap, the way you kissed him harder at the smallest show of equal want… Pope Cody had realized something.
You wanted him.
And you wanted him badly.
Maybe just as much as he wanted you. Maybe more.
It changed his chemical makeup. Just within the last ten minutes, he felt himself go from Andrew, shy and awkward, to Andy—yours. No one ever dared to call him that anyway. He was Pope to his family—fucked up, violent, a ticking time bomb. He was Andrew to his mother, who only saw him as a dog to sic on people to get her way.
But you saw Andy. The man who would do anything for you. The man who would be the best version of himself for you. He would take care of you like you deserved, would do it right. Right now, like this, but in other ways too. He would learn your favorite way to eat a sandwich. He would learn your coffee order. He would find out if you liked chocolate or sour candy more. It made his tongue tingle just thinking about it.
You squirmed in his hold as he pulled the little bikini strings, slowly, unwrapping his own present, his own skin on fire as he looked at the cute trim of fuzz over your pussy. His mouth began to water in earnest now, and before he could think of throwing the bikini from his bedsheets, he was diving in.
"Oh!" you squealed when his hot tongue dove between your legs. You let them fall open, hand going back to his curls.
His hands pushed your thighs open, spreading you wider over his perfectly made bed, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin there to hold you open for his mouth. You were so warm here, slick and swollen from grinding on him, and the first taste of you made his hips twitch against nothing.
He licked and ate at your pussy—tongue flat, collecting your sweet arousal on his taste buds. You tasted like honey and musk and something so you it made him moan. His eyes threatened to roll to the back of his skull as he situated himself in the cradle of your hips, your knees getting thrown over his shoulders.
"Oh, Andy—" you moaned, arching your back, "I'm already so—so close, please, oh fuck that feels so good—"
He brought two fingers up then to prod at your entrance, watching the way you clenched before he even pushed in. He could feel you already pulsing against his mouth at how he licked at you, suckling gently on your swollen clit before licking up from your entrance again. His two fingers gently slid only to the first knuckle before he felt your hand pushing his head back.
"Too—too much!" you said, craning your neck to look down at him, a frown on your pretty, fucked out face.
His whole body went still, mouth hovering wet against you even as he panted, fingers barely inside. For one sharp second, panic punched through his ribs so hard he could barely breathe. Too much. The thing he’d been trying not to be all night—all day—the thing he was always trying not to be. His fingers flexe before he forced them still, his eyes lifting to yours from between your thighs.
"I have to—I have to baby," he panted.
"Nooooo—they're too thick, Andy."
"How'm I supposed to fit my cock in here if you can't take my fingers?"
Your head fell back into the pillows as you heaved in deep breaths, whining. "Oh, godddddd—"
The sound of your sweet little cries, the way your body squirmed around the little bit of his fingers you’d taken— it made his stomach go tight. His cock ached so bad it made him dizzy, trapped against the mattress and his jeans, but he kept himself still instead of moving. He could wait. He would wait. He would make himself wait if it killed him.
"Slow, I promise I'll be slow—I'll be good," he whispered.
"You are good, Andy, you are."
He hummed at that, kissing back up your slit, the glistening mess you'd made now sopping, collecting over his lips. His brain felt like it was short circuiting again and again as you said it—that you thought he was good. Every time it landed somewhere in his chest, somewhere deep and locked away.
He licked the beads of your arousal off his top lip before diving back in, suckling again at your clit before pushing his fingers in to the second knuckle.
You gasped, hands tightening in his hair.
"Slow, slow," he whispered as he flattened his tongue. You nodded.
He watched your face the whole time, every little pinch between your brows, every parting of your lips, every pull of breath into your chest.
"Gotta get her ready is all," he said, then pushed both fingers in until the palm of his hand was cupping your pussy.
You wailed at the feeling, hips jutting, fingers scraping his scalp raw.
"Good girl, good girl, sweet girl," he whispered against your skin.
He gently began laving his tongue gently over your pussy again, and could feel your velvet walls contracting around his fingers. The tight heat of you made a terrible sound tear out of him, despite how hard he tried to contain it, and his mouth worked harder while his fingers stayed buried, letting you adjust around them. He curled them only a little, careful, watching your stomach tense and your thighs pull tighter around his shoulders.
"More," you whispered, and he felt your muscles relax a little.
"More?"
You nodded, looking back down at him. "Feels so gooooood…"
He smiled up at you, bringing his mouth down to eat at you hungrily, a yearning in his mouth to give it as good as you'd ever had, better than you'd ever had. If he did, if he was good to you, maybe you'd never leave him, you'd want to stay—stay just with him. It was a stupid thought. A desperate one.
"I'm gonna—please don't stop Andy, fuck me with your thick fingers, pleaseeee— I'm gonna—oh!"
He didn't stop. He wouldn't have even if the house burned down around him.
He was pushing his fingers deeper inside, crooking them as he pulled back, pistoning them into your walls as he pushed his tongue up against your clit faster and faster, until your body shook again, locking up, your thighs clamping down around his ears. He couldn't hear your moans as you mewled, too muffled behind the press of your skin around him. But he watched you—watched your jaw unhinge from your skull, watched your cute breasts rise and fall rapidly. Until you loosened your hold on him, and let your knees fall bonelessly to the mattress again.
He was climbing over you, not wasting a moment. He kissed you again, your breathless moans still filling his ears, louder now, as he let you taste yourself on his tongue. Your delicate hands went to his pants, your tongue dipping out to lick the droplets of your arousal from his face, down his chin, kitten licking at the mess you'd made of him.
"How are you? Are you okay?" he asked.
You giggled a little, "Yes, Andy, I'm more than okay."
"Okay, okay, good." he smiled a little shyly.
Your fingers dragged over his belt, his waistband, the front of his jeans where he was still so hard it hurt. His stomach jumped under the brush of your knuckles.
"Would be better if you could help me get you out of your clothes."
He smiled at that too, quickly disrobing himself of his shirt. Your hands were all over him in an instant—he nearly moaned just at the feeling of your fingertips skating over the skin of his chest, down to his belly, over his hips and around his back. You dug your nails in a little as you dragged them down his shoulders.
His skin lit up everywhere you touched—like you were lighting a fire against his body. Over the lines of his back, the scars at his arms. His head dropped for a moment because of how embarrassingly good it all felt. He hadn't been touched like this…
"Taking too long," you whispered in his ear when he began unzipping his pants.
He couldn't help it—he was smiling so fucking much around you. How could this have happened today? One second he was pissed off about some Asshole with his arm around you and now…now you were under him, in his bed. Pope Cody's bed.
"Sorry—I'm sorry—" he breathed. You kissed his jaw, his chin, up to his lips again, and finally, finally he was free of all the confines that kept you from touching him. As he laid over you, you hooked your legs around his hips, hot skin to hot skin, his arms coiled around you tightly. The first press of his bare cock against your stomach made him grunt into your mouth when your lips pressed against his again.
You pulled him in tighter, your lips going back to his ear.
"Are you going to fuck me now, Andy?"
"If—if you want." he said, gasping into your neck when your hand moved down between the two of you, stroking his cock. He groaned into your skin, your hand so fucking soft and delicate and perfect. Your thumb stroked over the velvet head of his length, making him gasp and shake above you. His hips twitched forward before he could stop them, the movement small and helpless into your palm.
"So sensitive…" you whispered.
He was a mess. He knew he could've pretended to be cool, pretended it didn't affect him—the simplest touch from you. But fuck, this was all he'd ever wanted. He was moaning into your neck as you let your hand drift up and down his cock that throbbed for you, a dribbling of precome dripping down onto the softness of your belly. His hips jutted of their own accord—back and forth in your hand, just fucking your grip.
"Want you inside me, Andy, please…" you said, and then, pulling your face away, looked up at him. The hand that wasn't holding his cock came up to his face, gripping his cheek so he'd look at you. "If you want. If it's okay."
"I do—" he answered quickly, "I want you so badly. It's all…all I've ever…" he hiccuped as you pulled him closer.
"I've only ever wanted you too, Andy. What took us so long, huh?" you smiled, then reached up as you kissed him gently on the lips.
He wanted to answer you, and say—I don't know, I'm sorry, I was a coward—but he couldn't because you'd pulled his length closer so it was slipping between your lower lips, pressing into the thick honey you'd made for him. His stomach tightened at the feeling, at the way your body opened under him, wet and warm and waiting.
Both of you gasped, the air leaving one mouth to the other. So close. So intimate. Your hand adjusted him against your wanting entrance, sweet little thing you were, lining him up while your legs tightened around his hips.
Pope held himself there for one shaking second, the head of his cock just pressing into you, his forehead nearly touching yours.
He forced his eyes to stay open.
To watch.
To watch your eyes shut, then shoot open like you'd thought the same thing. Like you wanted to watch him too. He wanted to see your mouth open wider, to watch your lungs shudder, the way the pretty color of your irises had completely disappeared. He pushed slow, so slow his arms started to shake from holding himself back, every inch of you tight and hot around him. His breath kept catching in haggard pulls, mouth hovering open around yours. When you'd exhale, he'd inhale. When he'd exhale, you'd inhale. Breathing each others breaths.
He had the most violent thoughts all of the sudden.
Not of you—you, sweet, beautiful thing.
But of today. What it would've been like if that Asshole had gotten his way. If he'd thought he could take you out on a date and fucked you in the back of his parents car.
Or, what if Pope had had his way after all? What if he could've stood up in front of everyone, taken the kid by the head and thrown him into the pool? What if he'd jumped in after him, held him down at the bottom until the bubbles stopped coming up? What if he'd listened to those thoughts and found out what his skull sounded like against the cement of the backyard?
"Andy?" you whispered, looking up at him, "Are you okay?"
He was still inside you. Buried all the way now, his balls up against your skin, your thighs hooked around his hips, your cunt clenching around him in little pulses that made his stomach twist. Belly to belly, limbs tangled, your breath shorter, and all he could see for one hot second was Asshole’s face going under the blue pool light.
"I wanted to kill him," Pope whispered.
Your cunt tightened down around him. Pope’s eyes snapped back to yours. He was here, he was with you again.
"Who, Andy?"
"That asshole—I wanted to—I wanted to kill him for making you upset."
"Derek?"
Pope nearly snarled hearing his name on your lips. He didn't have a name. He was Asshole. He was a pair of hands where they didn’t belong. He was a mouth too close to your ear. He was a body Pope should’ve buried along PCH tonight.
Asshole deserved a bullet in the head.
But Pope had to be very careful—he didn't want to scare you. This night was too perfect, he wouldn't ruin it. He couldn't. You were too perfect.
"I'm sorry—I'm sorry—" he began to say, wanting to lean into you, to bury his face against your neck and swallow the rest of it down, forgetting he'd ever said it.
You shook your head, your hands going to his hair. "Say it again. Tell me… tell me what you would've…"
Pope tilted his head at you.
"What I would've what?"
"Done," you finished. "To Derek."
"Stop saying his name." he growled.
You gasped, Pope not realizing he'd jerked his hips so his cock drove deeper into you.
Your eyes went wide, your mouth parting, and he felt the way your body grabbed tightened, your cunt pulling him in like the growl had gone straight between your legs. His jaw flexed as he held himself back and looked down at you, trying to piece together what was happening. Something in his face must have changed because your fingers tightened in his curls.
"Yes, Andy, okay, I'm sorry," you said obediently. "I only wanted… tell me what you wanted to do today to him."
He leaned down, lips heaving, breathing in your air.
Oh.
You were just as fucked up as he was, weren't you?
Because why else did your pussy tighten up on him just now? Why else were your nails digging into his neck, urging him on? Why else did you look up at him with those glassy eyes, asking for the worst parts of his head like you wanted him to hand them to you one by one?
"I wanted to fucking kill him." Pope said again, very, very carefully.
He pulled his cock out only a little, and your hands scrambled for purchase on him, pawing at him to keep him close, your ankles locked around his back.
"I wanted to bash his head in," Pope said, teeth bared.
You nodded. "Yes, yes, tell me more."
He was breathing heavily, unable to believe his ears. Unable to believe you were still under him, legs spreading wider, still looking at him like this was not the thing that would finally send you running. If anything, it had you pulling him closer.
"He's never going to touch you."
You shook your head, mouth opening, head tilting back, eyes hooded. "Never, Andy. Never."
"You're mine, mine, mine—" he said, pushing his cock back inside slow enough to make you feel every inch. In turn, he let himself slide against your walls, tuned to just how badly your pussy was sucking him in, clenching down around him at his words.
His brain had started to go fuzzy as he leaned into you, his arms circling your body, holding as tightly as you held him. The bed creaked when he began to move in earnest, hips beginning to saw back and forth. The headboard slapped against the wall when he picked up his rhythm, wanting to hear more of your pretty moans.
"I'm yours, Andy, I'm all yours," you moaned into his ear, kissing the shell of it, panting heavily, "I'm all yours,"
"I should've drowned him," Pope went on, "I should've—should've fucking killed him for the way he looked at you, thought he could take you—have you."
"Never, Andy, he'd never," you chanted, "oh god, please, please keep fucking me. You're so big, Andy. You're splitting me in half—oh god—"
His hand slid beneath your shoulder, pulling you flush against his chest, your damp skin sticking to him, your nails scraping down his back as he drove into you again.
The room was hot now, the remnants of damp pool water on his sheets cooling under your hip while the rest of you burned around him. He could feel every place your skin pressed against his. Your mouth at his ear, your ankles locked at his back, your hips against his. Your cunt taking him so tight he could barely keep his head.
"Does it feel good, baby?" he whimpered, trying to keep himself in check, trying to keep a rhythm. He wanted to be good for you, no matter how depraved his thoughts could be. He would be good. He had to be. Even with his teeth bared against your skin, even with his hands tight enough to leave bruises. He would be good.
"Oh, yes," you breathed, kissing his neck. "Feels amazing. I want more, Andy. Harder. Harder."
He moaned loudly as your pussy clenched down on him as he bit into the crest of your shoulder. You mewled for him as his hips swung back almost completely before he buried himself into you again. And again. And again.
The sound of it was filthy, skin meeting skin, the mattress squeaking under both of you, your breath breaking every time he filled you. You were a squirming mess beneath him, and yet, he held you tighter. Your ankles stayed locked, but it was like you couldn't decide if it was too much or not enough. Like you were trying to match his speed, but were wailing when he'd push in too hard.
"Are you sure, baby? Are you okay?"
"Andrewwwwwww—" you moaned, dragging the name out until his hips stuttered. "Please, please—promise me—promise me you'd do it."
"I'd do anything for you—anything." he admitted.
"Promise me!" you cried out.
"I promise, I promise," he whispered, pulling back just enough to kiss you, his lips planting over yours, opening and letting his tongue slide against yours. Both of you were moaning, sweaty messes, the sounds lewd and obscene filling the room as the headboard hit the wall even harder now in uneven knocks.
"I'm gonna come, Andy," you whimpered against his lips, muffled because he just kept fucking kissing you—licking behind your teeth, nipping at your bottom lip so much it began to swell and fatten up, a little kiss bruise forming there.
"Me too," he whimpered.
"Come with me," you begged, hands flying to his hair, holding him close. "Please."
He nodded as best he could.
"I love you Andy, come for me, come for me."
He was a moaning mess, unable to contain any multitude of normalcy, of trying to seem like anybody else. He ate at your mouth like an animal, fucked you like one, hips losing rhythm, his hands greedy and squeezing at your flesh until he shunted his hips against yours one last time, burying himself deep. Your pussy squeezed him, milking every rope of come that he had out of his cock, his balls wet from your arousal that soaked him, dripping onto the bedsheets below.
Your back arched at the feeling of him filling you, your mouth falling open under his as you shook through your orgasm. He could feel the flutter and grip of you pulling him in deeper while his own body kept giving, giving, giving. It was too much. It was everything.
His head dropped to your shoulder, breath punching out of him in rough little sounds he couldn’t swallow down.
"So good," he heard himself say. His mouth moved over your face, your jaw, your neck as you crashed down from the euphoric high, your lungs suddenly filling with air again. "You're so good, such a good girl, I'm sorry—I'm sorry—you're so good, baby, so good. I'll be good. I'll be good for you."
As you sucked in more air, your eyes fluttering and hazy, you looked up at him. Your hands pushed through the mess of curls at his forehead that had fallen sweat-slicked onto his skin.
Both of you were still breathing too hard, his lips dry against your skin, his body too heavy. He was softening slowly, pulsing, his wet spent cock sticky inside of you.
"Why're you sorry, silly?" you breathed, swallowing dryly.
He laid his head in the crook of your neck and let his mouth press into the soft column of your throat, nuzzling. He inhaled your smell—different now, now that the room filled with the salty mix of sweat and breath. But still you. You still smelled like green apples and chlorine. It settled him a little, let him pull in even breaths.
"Hm?" you asked when he didn't answer.
"I wish I was…normal." he finally answered.
You tilted your head so you could look at him as he stayed laid over your collarbone.
"I don't want you to be normal," you answered, your hand petting through his hair and down his neck, trailing over his freckled shoulder. "Hey, Andy, look at me."
He finally did.
Your face was close enough that he could see every damp lash stuck together at the corners of your eyes. Your lips were swollen and a little bruised from his mouth. Your cheek was warm under the hand he hadn’t realized he’d brought up to touch you.
"You don't scare me," you said softly.
He frowned a little at that.
You shook your head. "You don't."
"I should."
You cracked a sad smile at that.
"No, I don't think so," you whispered, and leaned in to kiss his nose. Your lips were still wet with spit from his mouth on yours. "I think we're the same, actually."
Oh?
You nodded at his change in expression, your fingers sliding back into his curls like you were making sure he heard you, not just soothing him out of it.
"I think we're just…different. And no one else will ever understand that. But I do." You sighed, your thumb brushing once over his temple. "And I understand you. I want you."
"You said… you said you… love me." he whispered.
You smiled wider. "See? You're not the only crazy one here."
His eyes dropped to your mouth. Maybe you were. Maybe you both were. And maybe… that was why today had happened, after all. You, coming to him, asking him to kiss you to show off how crazy you could be, to be with him. And him, giving in so easily, wanting so easily.
"I do love you, Andy." you admitted under your breath. Your thumb brushed over his eyelashes, over his temple, his cheekbone, down the bridge of his nose and over the cupid's bow of his lip. "Is that…crazy?"
Your skin was still warm as his palm moved from your face, gently trailing over your shoulder and down to your wrist to keep your hand against his cheek.
Maybe it was a little crazy.
He kissed the pad of your thumb.
But it was his kind of crazy.
And then he was leaning in and kissing you again.
🏷️ tagging those of you who were interested in a p2!! thank you so so much on the love for the first part :') hope I made you proud!!!! ilysm @hopelesslyspookyspooked, @t4medicroe, @here4the-reader-fics, @iramagnus, @sir-thisisadndserver, @seraphimsentinel, @lokis-fenris-wolf, @starlitflora, @myotakureprieve, @velvetmourning13, @cowboylover2000, @highhellkisses, @prttydarlin, @thebookbutterfly, @zipzappsmash, @t4medicroe, @mayemperess, @baileysinjune, @idontwanttobetheone, @jennataurus, @norman1967, @plummetingangel7, @jmlilypad, @milestellerismybf, @straykids1011, @queenmalhinewahine, @willbereturningshortly, @supernovatardis, @fanggq, @batouttahell13, @timefightrs, @reverieandwords, @kneelforloki, @anna97almeida, @brandycorso66, @equinoxdivine, @unopenedcomics, @thriving-n-jiving, @yurinals, @joelmillersbabygirll, @langostino-lover
I still can't believe we have access to audio of Shawn panting and whimpering and moaning and saying things like, "you don't have to beg me to fuck you, I'm going to" and "use your nails on me chest" and "good girl"