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fuckyeahdindjarin · 10 months

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VIII ║ Silver Pony

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 7: Fleabitten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 9: Warmblood }

Rating: E

Summary: And just like that, your week at the Statesman Ranch comes to an end, leaving you grappling with the prospect of saying goodbye to Jack.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, grief, flirting, insecurities, very light soft!dom overtones, sexual innuendoes, risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7.5k

Notes: Here we are, the penultimate chapter of Palomino. I had the last scene in mind since the very beginning of the series, actually putting it into words has been so emotional. Thank you as always for your patience and your love for this series, I'm eternally grateful that you're still with me as we wrap up this beautiful journey cowboy Jack and his Darlin' started almost a year ago ❤️

P.S. Please excuse typos and any mistakes as I had very little time to edit with the husband ill this weekend.

Coaxing Scotch to a halt at the end of the track - the last lookout point before the trail slopes downhill and homeward - you let the leather reins slip long and loose as he stretches his neck and shakes out his mane with a low nicker.

A hundred feet drop below, between the palomino’s ears turned forward in anticipation, is the Statesman Ranch in all its glory, nestled in the fertile valley of green pasture, with its winding creek and red roofs. You can see tiny people milling about, the stables busy in the middle of the afternoon, and horses grazing in the fields bracketed by white picket fences.

Out of the corner of your eye, Whiskey comes to a stop next to you, close enough that your knee bumps into Jack’s.

You keep your gaze on the ranch below as you ask half-jokingly, ‘Is it too late to turn back now?’

He chuckles, and you twist towards him, your own lips curling. ‘I believe we had this exact same conversation the first day, darlin’.’

It’s not too late to back out, you know.

Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy.

You don’t even realise you’ve fallen quiet until his calloused hand slides over yours, fingers tangling together. Jack brushes a sweet kiss to the heart of your palm that goes right to the one in your ribcage.

He cocks his head to one side in a gentle question. ‘Shall we rip off the bandaid, darlin’?’

Knowing there’s no other way around it, you squeeze his hand. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’

Jameson is the first to spot the five of you passing through the backgates. The sight of him zooming up the slope with his ears pinned back in excitement has you laughing, the horses nickering hello as his barks echo in the valley.

It makes no sense really - you barely know this place after all - but something inexplicably comforting and familiar tugs at your insides as you ride through the ranch. Stable hands call out to Jack in friendly greeting and to you with polite ma’ams, between bales of hay being loaded, saddles and tack polished, and the clang of steel on iron from the farrier’s workstation out back. All the while, Jameson trots faithfully by your side, as if he’s known you all his life.

‘You sure know how to make a girl feel special,’ you coo at him and he barks back, tail wagging.

Jack winks at you and says cryptically, ‘Well, you’re about to feel a lot more special, darlin’.’

Sure enough, when the horses clop into the main stable yard, your jaw drops.

‘Look what the cat dragged in!’ bellows Champ with a huge grin on his face, standing in front of the stable doors with hands on his hips, larger than life than ever.

You chortle at the huge Welcome Back! banner stretched over the barn door, complete with over-the-top cowboy themed helium balloons, bumping into each other in the afternoon breeze. You catch Jack rolling his eyes fondly at the scene.

Champ gives Scotch an affectionate ruffle on the mane as he comes to a halt by the wooden post. ‘So - how was it, m’dear? Was it everythin’ I promised it would be?’

‘Everything and more,’ you answer in the affirmative as you dismount, letting him pull you in for an enthusiastic hug.

‘That’s what I like to hear!’ he beams and pats the palomino soundly on the rump. ‘And Scotch? Was he a good boy?’

‘The bestest boy,’ you gush, throwing your hands around the horse’s neck in a hug. ‘He deserves all the carrots and apples in the world.’

Swinging his leg over the back of Whiskey’s saddle and landing gracefully on booted feet on the opposite side of the post, Jack quips, ‘But you’ve already fed him all the carrots and apples in the world.’

Champ chortles. ‘And what about our cowboy? Was he on his best behaviour?’

Jack points a self-righteous finger at his boss. ‘I’ll have you know our guest rated the pack trip a perfect ten out of ten, so I’ll be expectin’ an immediate raise. Ain’t that right, darlin’?’

A loud scoff coming from the stables turns your head, and you smile when Tequila emerges, wasting no time taking his aim at Jack. ‘Hold your horses, Daniels. Pretty sure the food poisonin’ knocks a few points off!’

Crossing the yard with his usual swagger, he sidles up to the other side of Scotch and tips his hat at you, leaning his elbows on the saddle. ‘Welcome back, sweetheart. Good to see you up and runnin’.’

You bite your lip at the mischievous wink he tosses your way.

Champs harrumps indignantly. ‘You have some nerve askin’ for a raise, son! Poppy was madder than a wet hen she heard about that. As you well know, she expects a full report at dinner tonight.’

Jack huffs in jest. ‘I’m puttin’ in a call to my attorney as we speak.’

The banter is spirited and relentless as the cowboys make quick work of untacking and unloading the horses, Champ insisting you shouldn’t lift a finger and talking for more than the three of you.

When the stable hands take away the last of the bags with your dirty laundry to be laundered, Jack takes a hold of both Whiskey and Bourbon. Clearing his throat, he seems to hesitate for a second, a tick in his jaw, but he eventually nods at you and says, ‘Well. I best be bringin’ the boys in now. Catch you later, darlin’.’

The bottom of your stomach gives out at the catch you later, darlin’, knocking the breath clean out of you, unprepared for the dread that courses through your veins like lead at the sudden prospect of being apart. Your fingers twitch with urgency, wanting to reach out, grab him by the front of his shirt, and cling to him -

Get a grip, woman.

You physically shake yourself out of it, and instead, try to bide your time. ‘Or, you know, if can I help with anything at all -’

Jack clearly catches on to your reluctance, but Champ is insistent. ‘Absolutely not! Now, it’s just gettin’ to four o’clock, so there’s plenty of time to go back to your room, clean up and join us for sunset drinks in a couple of hours. How does that sound, ma’am?’

Jack’s mouth stretches into a reassuring smile that you wish were imprinted into the skin of your forehead instead. With a promise in his eyes that it’ll only be a couple of hours, he leads the chestnut and pinto into the stables.

You don’t even try to hide the slump in your shoulders and your wistful, lingering gaze on the cowboy’s retreating back, nearly jumping out of your skin when Tequila gives you an almost brotherly pat on the shoulder over Scotch’s back. ‘I gotcha, girl.’

Speaking up, he calls out, ‘Hey Champ, Ginger was just tellin’ me that you got an urgent message from Harry, so you better give him a call back - you know how he gets when you don’t.’

The older man flinches dramatically at the mention of his accountant, flinging his hands up in frustration. ‘Damn distillery is more trouble than it’s worth! I better go - you remember your way back to your cabin, young lady?’

Before you can get a word out, Tequila cuts in, ‘Jack can show her the way if she doesn’t, I’m sure.’

The sly reference goes straight over Champ’s head as he bustles off, but not without a polite tip of his hat. Once he’s out of sight, you smile at the cowboy. ‘I appreciate that, Teak.’

He winks at you and spins on his heels to take Scotch to the washing bay. ‘Consider it part of our excellent service at the Statesman Ranch, sweetheart!’

You find Jack hatless in Bourbon’s box, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline, slick with sweat, when you slip in and shut the door quietly behind you.

‘Whatcha doin’, darlin’?’ he asks with a lopsided smile.

Even though you didn’t run into anyone on your way in, you glance around to make sure you’re alone before grabbing him by the open neck of his shirt and tugging him into you. One palm on his cheek, rough with the stubble starting to peek through since his last shave at the Halfway House, you press your lips to his, blood thrumming with the thrill of sneaking around.

You catch the hitch of his breath with a wet suck on his bottom lip and he groans - too loudly in the mid-afternoon quiet. Cheeky hands wander south and grab you shamelessly by the ass, his tongue questing deep into your mouth, and you can feel him hardening against your stomach, drawing a whimper from you.

Pulling back reluctantly, his nose still on yours, he growls. ‘Such brazen behaviour.’

Your tongue darts out and swipes the underside of your upper lip, drunk on the taste of him, and his dark gaze follows. ‘I think you like it, cowboy.’

‘Too fuckin’ much,’ he admits with a pained moan and a chaste kiss to your temple, nose in your hair, as if to calm himself down. ‘You should go clean up, I need to finish up here and you’re distractin’ me.’

You pout, laying your cards on the table. ‘But I miss you.’

His gaze warms at your admission, and he stoops to kiss you again. ‘I know, but it’s only for a little while, okay? I’ll come ‘round your room to pick you up at six.’

‘Fine,’ you reply begrudgingly. ‘Be quick, ok?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he teases and swats you on the bottom playfully as he herds you towards the door. ‘I won’t be long, promise.’

Taking two steps down the corridor, you look back one last time at Jack, who’s still watching you from the stall, leaning on the top of the door. When he blows you a lingering kiss, the thought strikes you unbidden -

If it’s this hard leaving him for a couple of hours.

Feeling the tell-tale sting in your nose and the prickle of tears at your eyes, you push the thought out of your mind -

You put one foot in front of the other, and walk away.

You didn’t realise how much you missed civilisation until you surprise yourself with the longest sigh under the rain shower. Head bowed under the steady stream, you take your time, lathering yourself until you’re cocooned in olive scented bubbles before rinsing, relishing the firm water pressure soothing the knots and soreness lurking under your skin.

But there’s a deeper ache, one that can’t be reached from the surface.

You have literally not been apart from Jack for the last four days. You’ve been showering together since the Halfway House, for crying out loud. It hasn’t taken you more than the stretch of an arm to catch his hand, or the turn of your cheek to find his lips.

A laugh bubbles in your throat as you wrap yourself in a fluffy towel. The word codependent springs to mind.

Standing in the middle of the room in just your underwear, you sort through the clean clothes that are folded neatly on the bed. Pulling on the prettiest top you brought and the same pair of jeans you wore on your birthday, you dig out your makeup bag and settle in front of the vanity, putting on a Spotify playlist and humming along as you get ready for dinner.

One second you’re blending in your foundation, then the next - liner in your grasp and poised over the corner of your eye - panic rudely sets in.

What if -

What if the chemistry between the two of you was conditional on forced proximity?

What if Jack was only attracted to you because there was literally no other woman for miles and miles?

What if -

You startle at the knock on the door.

It’s deja vu when you pad across the oakwood floors on bare feet, your heart threatening to thunder out of your chest when you twist the knob clockwise.

Jack is leaning on the doorframe, freshly showered himself, damp locks curling into his forehead. The yellow flannel he’s wearing is new to you, but not the way the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, over his sunkissed forearms.

For one moment of madness, you want to sink your teeth into the thick, sinewy -

‘What is it, darlin’?’ he asks, amused by your scrutiny.

You shrug, fingers fidgeting with a touch of shyness. ‘Just thinking about the last time you were on this doorstep.’

‘When you were swept away by my good looks and charm?’ he quips, arching an eyebrow.

You let him have this one, teasing, ‘Something like that, cowboy.’

Straightening up to his full height, he pulls you in by the waist so that you’re almost standing on the worn leather tips of his boots, the span of his palms warm on the small of your back. He doesn’t even bother checking over his shoulder before brushing a tender kiss on your lips, and it takes you right back to that first time in the field of wildflowers at dawn.

And you just know, in your heart of hearts - there is no what if.

In the middle of nowhere, up in the mountains, the sunset hour demands nothing short of worship. Miles and miles of grassland, trees and summer blooms become altars dipped in bronze at which to prostrate oneself as the sun sinks, rejoicing at the rapture of the end of day.

Whilst not as transcendent as what you experienced on the trail, the last sunset over the ranch is giving as good as it gets. The sun gilds the fields in gold on its descent as the stable hands bring in the last of the horses for the night while the swallows fly home above. The river that winds through the ranch is ablaze with the refracting light, and across the yard, you can hear the impatient whinnying of those waiting for their supper.

Jack and Tequila are setting up the barbeque and firepit, the orange glow of the twin flames taking the place of the fading daylight. The familiar scent of burning wood grounds you - you’re feeling a bit out of practice being the centre of attention after being alone with Jack for the past week.

Ice cold lemonade in one hand and buffalo jerky in the other, you smile when Ginger approaches with a hug. ‘I’m sure you’ve had to answer this question about fifty times today, but how was it?’

‘You want the short answer or long answer?’

‘I want a dissertation if you have it in you!’

You sneak glances at Jack over Ginger’s shoulder while you chat, and he watches you back from afar as he bustles in and out of the kitchen, always trailing two steps behind Poppy. You catch snippets of their conversation as they go back and forth, and you pick up enough to know that she is grilling him on the ‘food poisoning’ incident. He shoots you puppy eyes every time he passes by, which makes you grin.

You may or may not have been a bit distracted by the cowboy when Ginger asks, ‘So, did you catch Jack washing in the river in the end?’

A violent cough racks your entire body as you choke mid-swallow, and she chuckles, giving you a comforting pat on the back. ‘It’s ok, girlfriend - I don’t have to know!’

You knock back more lemonade and choose to play coy. If only she knew.

Champ is in his element, swapping out your drink for a whiskey soda as the dusk deepens and making sure the snacks platter is topped up with locally made boar and elk salami. Despite only having half an ear in the conversation while he keeps an eye on the dinner prep, he’s somehow still fully invested, and is particularly interested in the photos and videos you’ve been taking on Jack’s DSLR.

‘And that’s what you do for a livin’, young lady?’ he asks, putting on his reading glasses so he can study the photos downloaded onto your phone.

‘Adjacent. I’m in marketing, I do quite a lot of business-to-consumer social media campaigns,’ you explain, switching to Instagram to show him your employer’s profile.

Champ turns to Ginger. ‘Do we have the social media?’

She exchanges a fond smile with you. ‘No we don’t, boss, but we do have a website. I think it was last updated in 2012.’

Champ holds his chin between his thumb and index finger thoughtfully. ‘What do you think, m’dear? Should we get the social media?’

‘It depends,’ you answer truthfully. ‘If you want to boost occupancy, social media will definitely help connect new guests, and also encourage repeat visits. But if you asked me, I think the real potential is on the distillery side of the business.’

Champ perks up under his cowboy hat. ‘I’m listenin’.’

You tap the bottle of Statesman whiskey that’s sitting on the barrel table. ‘Jack told me that you only handle wholesale orders right now, which is perfectly fine. But if you want to go direct to consumers one day, social media is the way to go. I’ve worked with vineyards and gin distilleries, so I’ve seen how effective these campaigns can be.’

Humming pensively, Champ sips at his whiskey, neat, a faraway look in his eyes as he mulls over your words. ‘Well, that’s somethin’ to think about, I’d say.’

There’s no other way to end the trip than with a western cookout. The barbeque station is packed with trays of beautifully cut and aged meat from neighbouring ranches, sausages and brats, while the smoked brisket and ribs that have been cooking all day are brought out from the smoker in the kitchen.

On the side, a picnic table draped with a chequered table cloth is crammed with baked beans (smoked in-house), corn on the cob, pasta salad and soda bread; and on the greens front, there’s homemade coleslaw, potato salad and greens freshly picked from the vegetable patch.

It’s a feast of epic proportions, and it doesn’t surprise you at all that Poppy is pulling out all the stops.

Jack mans the barbeque under her supervision, wielding the tongs with showmanship, and your heart purrs at the familiar sight of him cooking by firelight as darkness well and truly sets in. You feel slightly adrift not being by his side, but Champ is keeping you entertained and well fed, piling seconds upon thirds on your loaded plate despite your protests.

By the time Teak takes over at the barbeque and Jack makes his way towards the communal table where you’re all standing, you’re sipping slowly on your third whiskey and soda. You smile at him over the brim of your tumbler which he returns, and your body leans unconsciously towards him, before remembering where you are. He tucks his right hand into his back pocket, and you want to think that it’s because if he doesn’t, he would reach out for you.

Being denied his touch when he’s right there has you shifting your feet restlessly. Your fingers itch for him, there’s an insistent prickle under your skin that you know he alone can placate.

You venture a peek at Jack, wondering if he’s faring any better than you are. Feeling your eyes on him, he turns to you, his gaze dropping to your mouth none too subtly, the muscle in his neck tensing. Caught in the moment, all you want to do is to run your tongue down the hollow of his throat and taste the smoke on his skin -

You look away in case you do anything rash.

You’re barely holding it together when the conversation moves on to your birthday at the Halfway House.

‘And how was the dinner?’ asks Poppy animatedly. ‘Did you like the cake?’

Despite yourself, you beam, ‘Like it? I loved it, thank you so much! I was so spoiled.’

‘Did Jack show you a good time?’

‘Oh I should say so,’ cuts in Tequila despite being six feet away at the barbeque. At Jack’s glare, he quickly adds, ‘He decked out the place real nice, y’know, with balloons and shit.’

With a shake of your head, you chuckle, ‘And he dressed the horses up in birthday hats and tinsel!’

With the barbeque dying down to a low, simmering flame, Poppy slides in a couple of peach cobblers in pie dishes directly onto the embers to warm up. Leaving behind gravy-stained plates stacked up high on the barrel table, the group drifts over to the low-set deck chairs sitting in a tidy circle around the firepit.

Emptying the last of the whiskey into his glass, Champ calls out, ‘Jack, m’boy, how ‘bout you run to the cellar and grab us another bottle of the fifteen years?’

‘Sure, boss,’ he replies, hanging back and catching your attention. ‘You wanna come look at the cellar, darlin’? It’s quite a sight.’

Champ is delighted. ‘What an inspired idea! Take your time, young lady, it’s not quite the distillery cellar, but we’ll save that for next time.’

Teak gives you a two-fingered salute and a knowing wink as Jack leads the way. ‘Enjoy the tour, sweetheart!’

Jack barely waits until you’ve turned the corner behind one of the barns before backing you up against the wall. You taste whiskey and woodsmoke on his tongue as he pins you in place with his broad frame, and you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.

‘I missed you, darlin’,’ he whispers against your lips.

‘I was standing right next to you, cowboy.’

‘I know,’ he whines. ‘Took everythin’ to keep my hands to myself.’

Your cheeks warm at his words, and you reach up to brush an errant curl back from his eyes. ‘Me too.’

Jack grabs your hand and takes you on what must be a shortcut to the kitchen, since you don’t recognise the route. Practically dragging you down a flight of steps at the back, he lets go of you only to pull open a heavy oak door. Your eyes widen when the orange lights flicker on, stepping into the cellar lined with hundreds, if not thousands of bottles, floor-to-ceiling shelves nestled into stone arches carved into the walls.

You wander the perimeter of the room, carefully pulling out dusty bottles high and low to inspect the years printed on the labels, but Jack is having none of it. Face nuzzled into the nook of your shoulder, he grinds his half-hard cock into you impatiently, calloused palms sliding under your shirt and squeezing your tits through your bra.

You moan, the sound echoing under the low vaulted ceilings. ‘What are you doing, cowboy?’

‘Want you now,’ he rasps into the back of your neck, teeth catching the sensitive skin.

‘What’s gotten into you?’ you ask, a laugh caught in your throat as he ruts against the cleft of your ass needily, a shudder rippling through you when you feel just how much he wants you through the denim.

‘It’s the change in altitude,’ he rasps, dry humping you in earnest now, his fingers fumbling with the front of the zipper. ‘And you’re really fuckin’ sexy in these jeans.’

‘Such a sweet talker,’ you tease, reaching behind you to undo his pants. ‘We got to be quick.’

He yanks the front of your jeans down so hard the movement jolts you forwards, flipping the denim inside out and dragging it down to the middle of your thighs, your panties going with them. His question is hot in your ear. ‘Want me to use protection, darlin’?’

You don’t skip a beat with an emphatic, ‘No.’

‘Fuck,’ he growls at your one-worded answer. ‘Lettin’ me fuck you bare? I’m one lucky cowboy.’

Your pussy throbs at his words alone, and you gasp in surprise when Jack manhandles you to the middle of the room, where a row of aged barrels rest on their sides, elevated on a sturdy shelf to keep them off the floor. He bends you unceremoniously over one cask so that your front is pressed up against the curved wooden surface, then, kicking your legs apart and notching the head of his cock at the mouth of your cunt, he sinks into you in one determined thrust.

‘Jack!’ you cry out, voice hoarse, filled almost painfully full, suspended on the tips of your toes as he plants his feet and drives into you, pulling out to the tip before plunging all the way back in, so deep you feel him in your throat. His breath is harsh and hot on the shell of your ear, but you can’t hear him over your own cries.

‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he croons throatily, his jeans rubbing the back of your thighs raw as his grip on you bites into your sides, holding you in place as you writhe. ‘Such a good girl, lettin’ me bend you over like this, takin’ me so well.’

Nails skidding over the wooden grain of the barrel as you scrabble for something to hold onto, you mewl, ‘Yes, yes, yes, feels so fucking good, cowboy!’

The slap of skin on skin bounces obscenely off the walls, and between the buck of his hips and his groans, you hear the slick squelch of your pussy stretching for him.

It seems to spur him on, and he snaps harder into you, rasping, ‘Look at you naughty thin’, lettin’ me fuck you in the middle of the cellar when anyone can walk in.’

Only then does it hit you - the absurdity of having fucked your way across the open country on this packtrip, taking for granted the liberty of literally screaming to the high heavens, free from prying eyes and ears. Juxtaposed against the sudden and very real prospect of getting caught, your body instinctively reacts.

Jack feels you clench wetly around his cock, a choked chuckle halfway in his throat. ‘Fuck, you filthy girl, you like that, don’t you? Want someone to walk in on us when I’m balls deep inside this pretty pussy?’

Your back arches, and he slides in so deep you’re sure you’ll be feeling him for days after, even when you’re a thousand miles from here. ‘Yes, yes, yes sir -’

The next thing you know, he’s gripping your hair and pulling, making you watch him over your shoulder. His eyes are black, jaw hanging open and teeth bared, and he’s gone - he’s thrusting recklessly into you, and you have no idea how your spine hasn’t snapped from being bent so far backwards. Then one rope-worn palm comes down on your right ass cheek in a cracking slap, making you gag on a half-groan, slick trickling down your thighs at the sting.

Jack leans over you now, caging you between his arms, his soft kisses on your neck an antithesis to the uncompromising rhythm at which he’s pounding into you. He coaxes, ‘Gonna cum for me, darlin’?’

Two of his fingers nudge between your legs and you whine when they make landing on your swollen clit. You nod desperately, clawing at the smooth wooden barrel under you. ‘Yes Jack, please make me cum. Please.’

‘Don’t you worry, you will,’ he says matter-of-factly, smearing mouth and tongue down the side of your neck. ‘You can do it. Make a mess on my cock, c’mon, darlin’ -’

When you clamp down around him, it takes Jack everything - everyfuckin’thin’ - not to let go and pump into you, fill that tight little cunt as you wail his name, quaking and squirming in his grasp. Air doesn’t quite reach his lungs, and he’s biting so hard on the insides of his mouth that it swells instantly, wanting so badly to mark you, to possess you in the most primal way a man can -

With a strangled groan, he pulls out, but only just - he’s already cumming before he can even wrap a fist around his cock, spurting crudely all over the swollen lips of your pussy and the curve of your ass as he milks himself dry, shudder after shudder. His spend drips so prettily down the back of your thighs, stopping just short of staining your jeans, that he goes light-headed for a moment. He sways, and if not for you grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a lazy kiss, he probably would’ve keeled over.

He looks down at the mess he made, crooning into your ear, ‘You’re so beautiful covered in my cum, darlin’.’

You squeak, startled, when he runs this thumb down your slit, still so slick and wet for him, and he has to fight the urge to fucking scoop up his cum shove it into you, filling you only to have it drool out of you when he holds the pretty lips open -

He feels your eyes on him, like you can tell what he’s thinking. He winces, shame rearing its head as he apologises, ‘I’m sorry, I got carried away. Was it - too much?’

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you pull him down for another kiss. ‘Never. I’ll take everything you’ve got, cowboy.’

Jack somehow has a handkerchief in his shirt pocket, which he brandishes with a flourish, prompting a giggle from you. ‘A gentleman if I’ve ever seen one.’

With a playful smirk, he declares, ‘Damn straight - my mama raised me right.’

Gently, Jack cleans you up, and you’re happy to let him do all the work, your body heavy and sated. When he’s done, he swivels you around and presses his lips to your temple. ‘Come back to my house tonight, darlin’?’

You tuck your nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in deeply. ‘I’d love to, cowboy.’

He’s carefully folding up the soiled handkerchief and tucking it into his back pocket when you hear footsteps on the stairs, and the two of you have barely pulled up your jeans when the door swings open.

There’s a dramatic pause as Teak takes in your dishevelled state and none too guilty faces. Looking distinctly unsurprised, he bursts into laughter nonetheless. ‘The cellar? Is nothin’ sacred to you heathens?’

The cookout winds down over bubbling hot peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream that Teak collected from the freezer in the kitchen on the way back. It’s pushing ten o’clock when Champ calls it a night, and you all help with bringing the dirty dishes and leftovers inside.

Poppy and Ginger make quick work of putting all the food in tupperware and into the fridge. Jack and Teak load up the dishwasher as you finish off the last of your drink.

Champ dusts his hands, as if he’s the one who’s done all the tidying up, and asks, ‘Your flight tomorrow isn’t until afternoon is it?’

You nod, passing Jack your empty glass. ‘Yeah, I need to drop off my rental truck as well, so I think I’ll have to leave around eleven.’

He pats you on the back. ‘Alright then, we’ll see you tomorrow mornin’. Have a good night’s sleep, young lady.’

‘Say goodbye before you go,’ adds Ginger, giving you a peck on the cheek.

‘Dinner was incredible, Poppy, thank you,’ you smile as she pulls you into a warm hug.

The redhead winks at you. ‘My absolute pleasure. I’ll fix you a little takeaway lunch to go tomorrow for the journey home. No plane food allowed for our guests!’

The kitchen empties until it’s just you, Jack and Teak, with the latter grinning at you two like a lunatic. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugs. ‘So you guys wanna hang, or -’

‘Get the fuck outta here, Teak!’ Jack growls.

The taller cowboy ambles over to you, joints loose with alcohol, and gives you what can only be described as a bear hug.

‘Just try keep it down, will ya? It’s real quiet in the valley at night and some of us have to work early tomorrow,’ he ribs with an insolent wink. ‘Guess we won’t see you lovebirds at breakfast?’

‘Not if you’re there,’ Jack retorts, to which Teak flashes a good-natured middle finger and saunters off into the night.

Jack draws you into his arms and you slump against him, relieved that you’re finally alone. ‘Shall we, darlin’?’

His fingers curl securely around the back of your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles at the base of yours as he closes the kitchen door behind you. It strikes you this is actually the first time you’re holding hands - there was no need for that when you were in the saddle, or camped in close proximity.

Your cheeks stretch with a smile so wide that the muscles ache. The mundanity of walking side by side, hand in hand, shouldn’t be this thrilling.

It’s quiet other than the grind of gravel under your boots and Jack’s heavier ones. The night air is sweet, the blanket of stars above you just as magical, but it’s not quite the same kind of stillness at the lower altitude. Perhaps it’s the way the sound travels with buildings and other people around, maybe the very physics of it is fundamentally different.

Turning into the parking lot, your attention is piqued by a handsome motorcycle parked all on its lonesome next to the main lodge.

Pride in his voice, Jack says, ‘Darlin’, meet the Silver Pony.’

You know nothing about motorcycles, but you can appreciate the sleek lines, the classy tan leather seat and the retro elegance about her as you circle it. Her silver paint job gleams in the lonely porch light. ‘She’s beautiful, cowboy.’

‘She’s an old girl but she got good bones. I restored her myself,’ he proclaims proudly, before admitting, ‘And well, Teak helped too.’

Opening a little cabinet attached to the side of the main lodge, Jack pulls out a helmet that has you laughing. It’s painted red white and blue, stars, stripes and the full monty, with the word WHISKEY painted across the front in bold formation.

He grins at you. ‘Found it in a yard sale. Too good to pass up.’

Lowering it over your head, he tightens the strap carefully under your chin. It’s a bit big, but it’ll do for a short ride. Blinking up at him, it brings you back to that first day in the stables, and you feel the same pull that you did when he fitted you with your hat.

Except this time, you can do something about it. Standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, you giggle when your helmet slips and knocks into his forehead with a clunk.

Putting on his own sensible black helmet, he plants his left foot by the side of the bike and swings his right leg over the leather seat.

You’re taken aback by the spike in your pulse at the sight - you’d think that having seen him on horseback all week would have prepared you for it. But there’s something about the way he leans over the top of the motorcycle, thighs wrapped around the metal body, forearms flexing as he grasps the handlebar.

Starting the ignition and knocking back the kickstand with the heel of his cowboy boot, Jack nods at you. ‘Hop on, darlin’.’

You do, and you don’t need to be told to hold on tight.

The Silver Pony purrs to a stop outside a modest cottage, about a ten-minute cruise from the ranch, down a short dirt track from the main road. It’s pitch black except for the headlights that illuminate an unexpectedly floral front garden. You hop off and take off your helmet before Jack kills the engine, plunging you into a very familiar darkness.

Switching on the light on his phone, he reaches for your hand and pulls you gently to his side, his solid warmth welcome even though it’s nowhere as chilly as it was up on the mountains. Flashing the light towards the front yard, he tells you, ‘Ginger has quite the green finger, this is all her work. It took some time, but the vegetable patch is just startin’ to come through this season.’

Keys jangling, Jack unlocks the front door and ushers you inside, flipping on the lights.

It’s a cosy space, not big by country standards, but more than spacious enough for one cowboy. It’s clearly a man’s house, with a distinct lack of decorative touches other than a vintage map of Wyoming hanging over a dining table and a crowded bookshelf by the door. Dark wood with orange knots line the floors and ceilings, the warm tones reminding you of nights around the campfire.

Walking through the tidy but lived-in space, you pass an open kitchen with a breakfast bar that backs into the living room. A rustic stone fireplace stands in the corner, bracketed by a cosy sectional with deep seats.

Jack watches you mill about, taking everything in. When you stop by the fireplace, he asks jokingly from across the room, ‘So, what’s the verdict?’

You tease, ‘Not gonna lie - I’m disappointed there aren’t more spurs and lassos on the walls.’

He chuckles and steps into the kitchen. ‘You want a nightcap?’

‘Just water thank you, I think I’ve had enough to drink.’

Filling up two glasses at the sink, he crosses the room to join you at the mantelpiece.

‘How long have you been living here?’ you ask, setting your glass on the shelf after taking a sip.

He takes a moment to reply. ‘I took a long break off work after my wife died, then moved in here straight after. Couldn’t stand bein’ in our house alone - couldn’t bear bein’ there at all.’ He pauses, and his lips quirk with a wry smile. ‘Champ and Teak packed everythin’ up for me and drove it all here.’

His honesty hits you squarely in the chest, the weight of the grief behind his words nearly knocking you back a step. You reach for him, closing the two-step distance and wrapping your arms tight around his waist.

Eyes closed, he lets you anchor him to the moment. Maybe he shouldn’t, but the confession slips right through his teeth. ‘I haven’t brought any women here. Ever.’

He holds his breath as he feels you hold yours.

You mumble into his chest, ‘You have to stop making it harder for me to leave, cowboy.’

Then don’t.

The two words are on the tip of his tongue, and for a second, he worries that he actually said them out loud. But he knows he can’t. It’s mad. It’s been a week. It’s not fair on you, not when you have a whole life back in the city, thousands of miles away, and his is right here in the shadow of the Bighorn Mountains.

So he says nothing.

Eventually, you pull back and tip your face up towards him. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the wetness lining the seams of your eyes.

‘Let’s go to bed, cowboy.’

He watches you from the doorway, where he leans idly against the frame, body relaxed from the whiskey sodas at dinner. The curtains are drawn and the light from the bedside lamp soft, casting orange shades on the walls and your skin as you shrug on the shirt he leaves out for you. The last button done, you snuggle comfortably under his sheets, and his heart lurches.

Not for the first time, the thought crosses his mind -

You look like you belong here.

‘Are you gonna stare all night, cowboy?’ you tease, sinking into the pillows.

He shrugs and closes the door behind him, shedding his clothes as he goes. ‘Can’t help it, darlin,’. You look good in my bed.’

‘It’s so comfy,’ you sigh happily, watching him strip down to his boxers.

‘It’s just the hard ground talkin’,’ he says, climbing in next to you. Bundling you into his arms and sliding one leg between yours, he kisses you, a deep exhale leaving him as he does. You smile so wide the corners of your eyes crease, and he watches as they land somewhere behind him.

His stomach drops when it dawns on him what catches your attention.

But it’s too late. You sit up, leaning over him and grabbing a hold of it with gentle hands.

You stare up at him. ‘Jack.’

He doesn’t even remember the last time he really looked at the photo. It’s there when he wakes up, when he goes to bed. It sits on the bedside table by the lamp, probably covered in dust.

Untouched.

His silence doesn’t deter you, but your tone is soft, and he understands that you’re giving him an out if he wants it. ‘What’s her name?’

His throat goes drier than sandpaper, and he’s suddenly speaking through a mouthful of cotton. It takes him two tries before he manages to enunciate. ‘Addison. Everyone called her Addie.’

‘Was this taken at your wedding?’

He nods, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

‘Look at you all dashing in a suit, cowboy,’ you hum appreciatively, tracing a fingertip over the smart dark grey tweed jacket with navy accents. ‘Where did you get married?’

‘At her parents’ ranch.’

‘Under this magnolia tree?’

He nods again. ‘It was her favourite spot.’

‘She’s so beautiful,’ you say quietly.

His eyes dart to the photo in your grasp despite himself. Swallowing thickly, he says, ‘She’s buried there now, where she was always happiest.’

At that, you return the photo to its place on the bedside table, almost solemnly. This is usually the point when people stop asking questions, so when you snuggle into the crook of his shoulder, gazing at him expectantly, he frowns in confusion.

‘What is it, darlin’?’

‘Tell me about her.’

Jack is stumped, flustered at your request. He shifts, sitting up stiffly against the headboard. ‘Like what?’

You shrug. ‘I don’t know. Like - how did you meet?’

His answer is short, factual. ‘On the rodeo circuit. We both worked on the tour.’

You give him an encouraging nudge. ‘And? What was she like?’

‘She -’ he pauses and holds his breath, weighing his words. In the end, it’s the truth that he tells you. ‘She was the best person.’

He stutters to a stop again, but you’re still peering at him, your expression curious and open. He knows you won’t push him, he trusts that you wouldn’t. He could reach out and switch off the light right now, and he knows you’d leave it at that.

But a small part of him demurs. He doesn’t have the words to describe it, but something unsettling and hopeful at once stirs in his stomach, one that is stopping him from cutting short this somewhat unconventional pillow talk.

So he tests the words on his tongue, starting with something small. ‘She was a cat person. All the barn cats loved her, no matter where we went on the circuit.’

Watching the way your eyes smile at the detail, he feels a little lighter. He adds, ‘We literally had cats camping out in our truck, and I’m allergic, so I’d be sneezing and covered in hives on the long-distance drives between rodeos.’

You laugh, and his chest swells with the realisation that he doesn’t remember the last time any mention of his wife sparked anything but sad side glances and commiserating pats on the back - let alone joy.

Over the years, he had let go of her joy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much to mourn her this way.

And the guilt that he did this, took the easy way out, is almost too much for one soul-crushing moment - until you lay your head on his chest, unfurling one hand and pressing it into his side, literally holding him together, rib by rib.

He tells you about Addie. Things he’s been afraid to remember, but even more afraid that he had forgotten. Her likes, pet peeves, where she went to college, her favourite show, her irrational fear of butterflies, her favourite dress, the song that always got her up on her feet dancing wherever she was, whatever she was doing, when it came on the radio.

You listen, picking up on the way his voice falls back into that beautiful Southern cadence that you have come to know as he remembers his wife, nothing but love in his eyes as the guardedness fades with each memory he confides in you. You pepper the pauses with follow-up questions and playful quips where you’re draped across him, one arm folded underneath you and the other over his waist, but you feel yourself nodding off as the hour grows late.

He holds you to him, his palm spanning your lower back, until you go quiet.

Jack is tired, his own lids drooping with impending slumber, the sprint down memory lane taking more out of him than he expected. Brushing a kiss to the crown of your head, he rolls you off his front and onto your side, tucking you into the rumpled sheets. Spooning you from behind, he murmurs one last thing on the shell of your ear.

‘She would’ve loved you, darlin’.’

Notes: When I first started this series, I didn't have a backstory developed for Jack other than that his wife died eight and a half years before Darlin' comes on the scene. It's been such an organic and fulfilling journey developing his character and his history over the series, filling in the blanks as we and Darlin' got to know him better.

It's so important to me that his wife and his grief isn't pushed to one side for the sake of easy story telling. I've dropped little hints of his bereavement throughout the series, nothing too loud, but it's there in the background, my way of paying respect to one aspect of canon Jack that touches me very deeply despite the mess the movie makes of his story.

Out of all my Reader! characters, I would say that Darlin' is my most unassuming one. Not in a bad way at all, it's just that she doesn't have as loud a personality as Shiv or Pin, or as dramatic a storyline as Sweetheart. But this chapter, she just really came into her own. That last scene will stay with me forever ❤️

Edited to add a reminder that we still have one more chapter to go before we say goodbye to these two. I’m not ready 😭

#palomino series #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels au #agent whiskey au #pedro pascal character fic

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onlymingyus · 9 months

Text

Juice (Patreon Exclusive)

pairing; kim mingyu x choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; unprotected sex, some dom/sub dynamics, dom!seungcheol, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, brat!reader, impact play, hand on the throat, fingering, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, creampie, cum eating/cumplay, some mlm (depending on how you feel about what happens adding the warning just in case), strength kink, manhandling, reader is smaller than mingyu and seungcheol, reader works out, mingyu carries the reader, pinning down/against wall, bulge kink, big dick!mingyu and seungcheol, pet names/degrading names, teasing, aftercare, talks about polyamory

w/c; 533 (this teaser) -- 7k and some change (full fic on Patreon)

requested; no

a/n; this one is a lot -- as you can see from the warnings -- but I had a lot of fun writing it. if you need someone to blame, you can put that blame on one choi seungcheol and his gym thirst traps. man doesn't even have to post actual pictures, just has to say im lifting 100 kg and my brain goes brrrr. also I am posting a day early this week due to my work schedule -- working overtime due to people being out, so I have no other choice.

this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here

“So, you do pay attention to us?”

Looking down you feel the warmth rush over your cheeks at the man’s question and his friend’s lingering gaze. Seungcheol laughs, his fingers drumming against the bench under him for a moment before he sits up and leans forward like Mingyu to look at you more closely.

“Why are you being all shy? We aren’t going to bite you, sweetheart.”

When you take a deep breath, your eyes lifting to meet his eyes at his words, Seungcheol laughs once more with a tilt of his head. He could see the look in your eye. You were turned on. He had seen the look before when you were watching them work out. They had been watching you just as much as you had watched them. You weren’t nearly as inconspicuous as you thought you were.

“Mm, not unless you want us to.”

Mingyu sucks in a breath as his eyes drop to your thighs, watching you press them together. This was going better than he had expected it to. He had hoped that this would be the opening conversation that could lead to another conversation at a later date but now you were acting like a cat in heat, rubbing your thighs together. Mingyu couldn’t help the way his mind wandered to how you were probably wet right now.

Taking a deep breath, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes almost defiantly in an attempt to play it cool. You weren’t some cheap whore that could be so easily seduced, at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. It was just too bad that your body was betraying every sensible thought that was going through your brain as the men in front of you undressed you in their minds.

“Are you going to climb back on that silly machine or would you rather leave and work on your cardio in another way?”

Scoffing at Seungcheol’s words, you open your water bottle to take another sip only to miss your mouth because of how flustered you actually are. Mingyu groans under his breath, watching the water trickle down your chin to your throat and finally your chest towards the top of your tank top. Seungcheol on the other hand just smirks before leaning forward to swipe his thumb under your bottom lip to wipe away some of the water before speaking again.

“Messy baby, answer me.”

Leaning into his touch, you find yourself nodding before you even realize it. Seungcheol smiles, nodding along with you, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip briefly before he pulls his hand away. Watching the interaction, Mingyu takes a breath and lets it out slowly. It was his turn to play it cool as he glanced around the gym thankful that the section you three were in was less crowded.

“Our place or yours, babe?”

Turning your head towards Mingyu, you finally take in a deep breath as you feel Seungcheol take your water bottle out of your hand. The question seems to confuse you for a moment, but a flash of his pretty smile, his sharp canines on display for you seems to bring you back into the moment.

“Mine.”

READ THE FULL FIC ON PATREON HERE

#mingyu smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svthub #scoups smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #svt x reader #mingyu fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #seventeen fanfic #patreon exclusive

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hayisins · 4 months

Text

arataki itto x begging !! ♡ "ugh . . . baby, please, i can't . ."

this prompt comes from this post !! so all credit to the idea goes to them ♡

contains : begging, animalistic sex teehee, overstimulation, size kink if you squint, creampies, afab!reader, service top!itto ♡

sometimes, having a boyfriend like itto has more than one perk. many actually. this man is an absolute saint. he loves hard and proves it through his copious amounts of love for the people in his life through different acts of service. being his partner was absolutely no exclusion from this. itto loved and cherished you deeply, everyone around you two knew it.

whether it was the large amount of lovebites on you at all times or even the way itto always had a protective arm around you in public, everyone was aware of the oni's love and passion for you. his smile when you'd walk into the room was brighter than a thousand suns and the way he talked about you was enough to make a married man feel single and lonely. you truly are the pride of itto's existence.

this being said, the man is rather addicted to you. itto will almost immediately do anything you ask him to without complaint . . so when you have him tied to a chair in your residence, sitting right on his lap where he cant touch or hold you. why it drives him crazy. it makes him almost feral . . but that's exactly what you want. he's grunting trying so hard to fight against the restraints you have on him but its all in vain.

"come on sunshine . . . this is so cruel !!"

he whines it like a child, a pout showing up on his perfect face in protest but you're not listening. you only roll your hips as to tease him even more, giggling to yourself at how pitiful all of this is. an oni, someone double your size, being tied down and pathetically begging to be released. all of this went to your head as you continued your motions. poor ittos cock was hard and threatening to burst out of its confinements.

"at least use your hand !! c'mon . . pleaseplease -"

you immediately cut him off with a kiss, making the oni whine into your mouth. all his sounds being beautifully swallowed up by you. he melts into this, trying to lean up to chase the softness of your skin as its the only part of you he's allowed to touch in this moment. you can feel a shift in him, something rather territorial as his breathing starts to get heavier and heavier. itto is reaching breaking point.

he lunges froward, the rope around his biceps snapping in a fury as now you're being pinned against the wooden floor. his breathing . . god is glorious. he's borderline panting in your ear, grunting and groaning as he fists a hand into his pants to free himself. there's no running from this. however, you believe that to be the case . . when all of a sudden his face softens once more. gentle kisses being placed against your exposed skin.

"that was torture . . please - let me take care of you. i'll do anything you ask just please let me touch you."

with the puppy dog eyes he's currently giving you, how could you refuse? with a small smile you nod and slowly sit up. you command him to remove your clothing as well as his own, the oni taking little to no time to do such actions. that's when the reality of the situation hit you. even though he was untied, you were still in control. he gave you the submission you wanted out of him without needing to be confined. itto was truly whipped for you.

your next command to him is something he'd more than happy to comply with. taking his length into his hands again itto now finds himself slowly pushing into the tight warmth of your walls, a loud satisfied noise leaving his mouth in pure bliss of such a feeling. truthfully, it has you biting your lip too. itto's extremely large and the bulging skin on your tummy proved this as he made his way fully inside of you.

he pounds into you with great force, a wave of moans and loud animalistic sounds following in his path. your vision blurs and you almost cant see straight. you want to cry out for a moment, to beg him to slow his pace but you knew that you truly didn't want him to. you wanted to be treated like this. this marks your first orgasm of the night. it has you shaking, spasming, and tugging at itto's hair. itto watches you like you're a movie. he stares, studying every single little reaction you make to the pleasure he gives you.

this is what makes him finish. he makes sure to pull your hips right down to his thighs, wanting to be fully inside of you while he cums. during his entire orgasm he's a mess of words,

"ohh fuck - you look so pretty - shit - archons i need to -"

is all he's able to get out before he's pounding into you again, both of you borderline screaming from such overstimulation so quickly after orgasm. this time its his turn to ignore you as you cry and beg for mercy, for him to let you take a moment to rest. he can't be bothered to comply this time, especially when you feel as good as you do. however he doesn't get far before he's whimpering again. itto pushes you into a mating press knowing just how good it feels for you. he howls in delight at such a nice feeling.

"ugh . . . baby, please, i can't . ."

the rest of his words fail him as he wails from the overstimulation. he finishes again, muttering copious amounts of things while he does - ranging from praises to degrading thoughts. it doesn't matter to him, nothing does but this - but you.

"you . . are like the biggest onikabuto you can find . . WAIT !! not like that - i mean like !! you . . are really rare . . and so so soooo pretty . . please, just a few more?"

those begging eyes never fail to work . . do they?

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #arataki itto #arataki smut #arataki x reader #itto x reader #itto smut #genshin itto #genshin #smut #gi smut

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joshlmbrt · 5 months

Note

Request: Gator x injured!reader. Whump/fluff.

Maybe Gator is usually an asshole to reader (enemies to lovers?) but then reader gets hurt and Gator not only saves reader but also reveals he cares. <3

I OWE YOU.

warnings; its slightly mentioned that r & gator don’t get along - but short! i was too excited to write this. a slap, small mention of blood, & a gun. i’m basing this before the events currently taking place in the show! use of doll and pretty once.

an; the photo of joe SUCKS because i had edited it 😭 so sorry for the blurry image. BUT, thank you for the request!!!! its slightky different from the request, but not much - i don’t think- but i hope this is okay and you enjoy it! if you have anymore request, leave as many as you want!!!

(also if anyone else has a request for gator - or anyone else i write for (check pinned post!) - please always feel free to leave as many requests as you want!! i love seeing your ideas. but please be sure to read what im uncomfortable writing about!)

special special tag; @hollandweather !!!

𖡡 FARGO, NORTH DAKOTA. 2018

CASPER’S BAR & GRILL.

The night was going well.

Until that one boy stepped in, in his stupid cargo, camouflaged pants, boots laced up, with his gun strapped to his thigh and the black compression shirt steps in, as if he owned the place.

Your face was set in a grimace, Andy smirking at you. His hip bumps into yours. “There’s your fella.”

“Oh,” You roll your eyes, your eyes turning to him sharply. “In his dreams.”

You made a show of gagging as the aforementioned boy sits at the bar, lifting his brows at your actions. Andy chuckles, shaking his head, curly blonde hair shaking at the motion as he goes and tends to a group at the end.

“Your drool is going to end up in that shot glass you’re cleanin'.” His finger lifts, pointing towards the mentioned glass held in your hands.

“And I’ll be sure that you’re the one who gets it.” You smile at him, a sickening, sweet, smile.

He narrows his eyes at you, slumping forward as his partner slaps his shoulder roughly. A scowl takes over his face as he looks over at him.

“Hey, doll,” Your eye twitches, holding back a look of disgust, eyes glancing towards the man. “I’ll take a whiskey.”

“Are you even supposed to be drinking on the clock?” The glass is placed on the counter in front of you, arms now crossing over your chest.

He hums, shrugging his shoulders. “As long as we don’t get plaster,” He turns to Gator. “Right?”

Gator hums, shrugging. “Sure.”

“Wow. What great sheriffs ya both are!” You place your hands on the sticky bar, leaning down slightly. “Drinking on your job.”

The brunette man narrows his eyes at you. “Just. . . get the drink. Top shelf too.”

“I can deny serving you.”

“Then get Andy,” Eric - you believe his name was, although you didn’t care - nudges his chin towards the boy dancing with a group. “He’ll give it to us.”

“No he won’t. Because if I deny you both,” You are sure to quickly look at Gator before looking back. “You have to leave.”

“I’m sure Roy won’t be happy hearing you’re denying service.”

“I don’t care what Roy says. This isn’t his bar. Now, please. Leave.” You nudge your chin towards the door, before standing straighter, grabbing the glass once again.

“You’re serious?” Gator pinches his brows

“As a heartattack.”

There’s a sense of relief that floods you as you lock the back door and a deep sigh leaves deep from your chest.

Andy had offered you to stay, but you told him to go home, you had it.

The rocks crunch under your boots as you make your way towards your car, rubbing your eye with one hand, before unlocking your car with the other hand and slide in.

You shiver from the cold seats, turning the car on and quickly turn the heat onto the highest setting.

Backing out and towards the exit, your eyes cast a glance towards the door, groaning loudly as your eyes land on the BUD LITE sign still on and flickering from inside.

You dig into your purse, pulling the keys out and quickly get out. Jogging towards the doors, unlocking them as you look around the dark area.

“Don’t move until I tell you too.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, hand immediately stopping after hearing the click.

There’s a deep chuckle from behind you, before heat licks up your neck. “Go on,” There’s something pressed to the back of your head. You do not want to think about what exactly it is. “Go inside.”

You gulp, pushing the door open, the jingle of the bell seemingly echoing through the bar. Your boots click against the wooden floor as you slowly walk inside.

He follows behind you.

“Behind the bar. Now.”

You step in behind the bar, eyes meeting a pair of green ones and an evil smile.

“Now. . . That drink,” His gun stays pointed up, elbow resting on the clean bar counter. “Whiskey. Top shelf.”

You nod, turning and grabbing a glass and the top shelf whiskey.

You slowly turn back, pouring half a glass and sliding it in front of him before standing back, arms to the side.

Your eyes watch as his closes in delight at the first sip.

“God, that’s so good.” He hums, pulling the glass away, looking down at it.

Your eyes stay on the gun pointed at you.

“I wished you would’ve just done what you’re meant to do. . . Serve me,” His eyes look over at you again, placing the glass down, pushing it toward you. “Pour some more.”

You step forward, grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring some more into the cup. Theres a deep chuckle from him, watching you as you slide it back towards him. “See. You look pretty listening and not speaking. You should do that some more.”

“And maybe if you weren’t creepy, you’d find someone who wants to be with you.”

There’s a moment where you felt satisfied with the words.

Then the sharp sting to your lip makes you quickly regret it.

“Watch your mouth.”

“You watch where you throw your hand.”

Your eyes are quick to dart over Eric’s shoulder, landing on the one person you didn’t expect to see pointing his gun at the boys back.

Gator Tillman.

And, maybe you didn’t expect to see his father step inside as well.

“Dixon, get up from that stool and place your gun and badge down,” Roy’s voice causes the boy to tense up, eyes looking down at the gun he was still holding in his hand. “Now.” There’s a cutting edge to the older man’s voice that has him immediately standing from the stool, placing the gun onto the counter.

“Hands behind your head.” Gator holsters his gun, pulling the cuffs from his back, watching as Eric places his hand onto his head. His hand grips his wrist, roughly pulling them down, making sure the cuffs were too tight and too uncomfortable for him.

He pushes him towards his father, Roy’s hand shooting out and gripping his bicep and pulling him away.

Your eyes follow quietly, still shaken up from the ordeal, cheek still stinging.

The sound of the floorboard creaking behind you has you flinching and quickly turning.

“Sorry,” Gator is quick to lift his hands by his head. “It’s me. Just me. Are you okay?”

You could only nod, staring at him quietly.

His eyes quickly glance down to your lips before looking back up. “Your lip,” He points at his own lip for emphasis. “It’s bleeding.” He’s then on a search for something before he walks towards one of the tables and pulling a couple of napkins out from a dispenser.

“How. . .” You clear your shaky voice. “How did you know that he-”

“Would be here? I had a hunch. Especially after he kept saying something about you.” He makes his way back towards you, turning on the small sink and wetting the brown napkin.

“What was he saying?” You watch him.

He pauses a moment, before switching the cold water off and stepping closer. “You don’t want to know.”

You leave it at that.

Well. . .

You were actually lost at words.

Especially with him this close that you could faintly smell the cologne that he had chosen from this morning that had only faded slightly and. . .

“You know Mnt. Dew is bad for your kidneys, right?” You want to bash your head against the counter, or even allow Eric to throw another slap your way because maybe you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

He lifts his brows, golden browns glancing up at you, hand dropping at his side. It wasn’t necessary for him to clean the small cut on your bottom lip. Maybe he just wanted to be close.

“How did you know I was drinking Mnt. Dew?” He questions.

“Well, you are in my personal space,” You point out. He really was. The tops of his boots touching your own. “And I could smell it.”

He smirks a bit, glancing away eyeing the trash can under the counter as he tosses the wet paper into the bag.

“Well, I’ll walk you out.” He clears his throat, stepping away from you and out from behind the counter.

You watch him quietly before stepping away as well, flipping the BUD LITE sign off, before walking out and locking the door once again.

He walks beside you to your car, wishing you a goodnight before heading to his own.

Your hand grips the door before you quickly turn. “Gator!” You watch as he turns quickly. Your eyes glance around before you sigh, making your way towards him. “Thank you for saving me tonight.”

He rocks on the balls of his feet, grinning softly. “Of course. Anytime.”

You smile softly, eyes glancing at the one strand of hair that had fallen against his forehead from a long day.

You lift up, lips pressing at the corner of his mouth before you pull away. You grin as you watch his cheeks flush and lips parting.

“I owe you.”

His lips curl into a soft, pretty smile as his eyes twinkle.

“I’ll remind you.”

thank you for reading! comments, likes, reblogs, and feedback is always welcomed and deeply appreciated!

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fic #gator tillman #joe keery x reader

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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♡. When your feelings for your best friend twist into something more than what one would usually expect.. | 1k+ words, Best friends to lovers, Mutual pinning, Riddle Rosehearts x Reader, Gender neutral reader, Unexpected confession, Fluff.

You couldn’t tell exactly when you started falling for him, it was unexpected. How you started taking care of yourself, grooming yourself for a simple meet up with him; keeping a distance when you were in a bad mood, casual conversations with them being something you anticipated more than anything else, how everything he did made you internally melt. The soft words, praises, and compliments that fell from his lips, causing heat to rise towards your face. Everything was so foreign, it wasn’t anywhere near to what you initially felt for him, the feeling a foreign casualty to the binds and labels of your relationship.

How his soft touches, hugs, brushes of the arms, and more became all the more effective to you, who swore time and time again that you were not falling.. for your best friend… His lengthen glances, slightly red cheeks became all the more apparent, you couldn’t avoid the thoughts spiraling through your head. Overthinking every small everlasting moment with him.

His thoughts collided, his world dropped and sank the moment he realized what he felt for you, a tad bit flustered being around you in general— ‘have you been getting prettier?’, he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words fall from his lips. Over analyzing all your movements to the point it was alarming, having you in his thoughts as if it was a daily prayer he couldn't help but always preach.

His touches increased, everything you did made him freeze. All he wanted was to capture the moment, and keep it safe deep within the confines of his mind and memory. When you call out for him in the halls, he couldn’t help but grin loosely, avoiding his friends and comrades' questions about his reactions that seemed so— odd. His feelings were leaking, overflowing, to the top of the teacup; no matter how many times he takes a sip and gulps down the feelings and buries it deep within his heart. He couldn’t stop it, not when it was overflowing, not when his heart beat got ever so louder when he saw your face; Riddle could feel his body envelope in a pleasant feeling of warmth when he heard your voice.

He was deep within the pit of fiery flames of affection and adoration, his dreams consisted with you, the thought of you, the images of you. Every small movement you make, everything one could possibly misunderstand, he wanted to misunderstand.. Riddle knew better to overthink simple gestures, but he couldn’t control his thoughts.. Not when the picture of you, your voice, the words that you speak; keep him up at night, tossing and turning. Sleepless nights with only dreams and images of you. ‘I must be crazy’ is what goes through his head, when he calls you so late at night; claiming with stupid, pitiful.. excuses that his ‘insomnia’ kept him up at night; but he couldn’t stop himself, when he gets to hear your sweet voice, something that pulls him to sleep, ‘I’m insane’ are his thoughts, as he scrolls through the endless amounts of messages the two of you exchanged, waiting for you sign to turn online.. So he could message you…

Scrolling through magicam, looking at pictures of you.. ‘What is wrong with me?’ he’d question himself, as he looks at your latest posts; fighting the urge to instantly reply the moment you appear on his notification bar, no matter the time or place… Would you be upset if you knew? Just how crazed he was for your affection?, maybe you’d find the entire ordeal disgusting, in fact it was quite humiliating for Riddle himself, just how disheveled and obsessed he seemed in private, yet couldn’t help but put on the sweetest front when coming to face you. He couldn’t help but grow slightly jealous of other men or more possibly your ex lovers, when he meets them or when you speak of them. He has no right to feel this way, not when you’ve given him all the love and respect he could expect; not when you’ve closed into his heart and provided him the comfort of a close comrade that he needed, someone he can rely on, for about everything— and yet he could never explain this feeling of adoration and crave for your attention and time.

Oh god… He was in love.

“I love you..” the words came out in a whisper of sorts but you heard it, of course you heard it.. Why wouldn’t you? It felt as time paused itself there as the two of you tried collecting your feelings, letting the walls fall and the gates open. Riddle foresees that the tea cup won’t ever really stop overflowing.

Calmth embraced the two of your surroundings, the unnerving feeling and tension came to a stop; as you embraced him. The warmth in your arms provided comfort and ease to the man, who felt his heart beat a tad bit faster and louder as you whispered the three words he wanted to hear back, the words he had only heard you uttering in his daydreams. The three words that kept him up at night, at least now he can say those sleepless nights were worth it, as he buried his head into the crook of your neck; a sigh of relief escapes him, as the two of you enjoy the moment tied to one another. Maybe untangling just what your relationship truly was could be discussed later, and he can finally have the freedom of preaching that he is yours and your his.

An inaudible whisper fell from his lips; his eyes glowing with curiosity and want. As he finally kissed you, the moment was fleeting and yet so soft and sweet; the taste of your lips on his own engraved into his skull and mind. A heavy breath of relief and adoration fell, “I love you, I truly do..”; he’d say those words a million times more, if you only gave him the permission to do so.. Would you do him this tiny.. favor?

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acewritesfics · 6 months

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Drabble 01 | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Request: No.

Warnings: Shooting practice. Gun practice. I've never held a gun before so I have no actual experience on how to handle one. Short imagine.

Word Count: 340

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || PEAKY B. TAG LIST SIGN-UP

"Aim, arms straight, feet apart, turn a little," Tommy advises Y/N as she points the gun she's holding at the tin can sitting on the fence dividing their home's backyard from the fields behind it.

Tommy hadn't ever considered teaching his wife how to shoot a pistol until last week. He always assumed that he or one of his family members would be there to protect her. But when he returned home to find his wife trembling, a bruise on her cheek, and finger marks on her arms and neck, sobbing while telling him that a man he had business with had threatened to harm her and their children if Tommy didn't comply with the new demands, everything changed.

Y/N, who had never carried a gun, let alone shot one, was more frightened handling her husband's pistol than she had been before giving birth to their sons, both of which were complicated pregnancies that could have ended her life, but by God's grace she was still here to watch the two boys grow.

"All right," Tommy says, taking a few steps back. "Now pull the trigger."

She hesitates only a split second before thinking her assailant. A loud bang resonates over the fields as she pulls the trigger, firing the bullet that misses the can and goes through the top fence post. Tommy is impressed. He didn't expect her to hit the tin can on her first shot, but she got closer than he thought.

"Not bad," he says, smiling.

"I completely missed it," she sighs, lowering the pistol to her side.

"It was your first shot," he assures her. "With enough practise, you'll be able to hit it in no time." He returns to stand behind her, his arms around her waist. He kisses her shoulder, followed by her neck. "You'll make it."

"Show me how to do it again," she says, turning her head to face him. He smiles, kisses her lips, and assists her in resuming the shooting stance, this time keeping his hands on her waist.

TAGGED: LINK TO TAG LIST SIGN-UP ABOVE

@forgottenpeakywriter

#acewritesfics repost #tommy shelby x reader

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genshinluvr · 1 year

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The Copycat

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You have a classmate who ends up being a close acquaintance of yours (you wouldn't really consider them as a friend). You two seem to get along just fine until you find out that they're trying to be just like you.

Note: Not sure how I feel about this story in particular. I wanted this story to be something, but it didn't turn out how I originally planned for it to be. Therefore, the original plan might be another story on its own. It's somewhat of a similar concept but, at the same time, different. I have a convention to prepare for in less than five hours, and here I am 💀 Anyway, next week, I might have a new random AU for the Isekai'd!reader series come out soon! :> Please keep in mind that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: No warning specifically. Other than the reader wanting to fight the person toward the end (they don't, it's implied). I guess fainting would count?

Word Count: 9.8k

You’re in House of Daena, studying for your literature class while trying your best not to fall asleep in the library. It’s only seven in the morning, and you have decided to go to the library early morning before your biology class. You have made a grave mistake by studying in a place that is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop. Your eyelids are heavy, and you keep yawning as time goes by.

You rub the tears pooling in your eyes and grumble to yourself. You shake your head, patting your cheeks to keep yourself awake. You blink down at the textbook laid out in front of you and stare at the words that are jumbled up in your vision. Propping your head up in the palm of your hands, you stare at your literature textbook blankly.

“What am I supposed to be studying again?” You mutter to yourself, massaging your throbbing temples with an exhausted sigh.

Someone slams their textbooks and bookbag onto the table in front of you, startling you. You look up and see a girl with medium-length dusty blonde hair, thick-rimmed black-gold glasses, and her Akademiya uniform disheveled. She sits down across from you and gives you a smile.

“You’re supposed to be studying for Mrs. Hooshang’s literature course,” the dusty blonde girl says, pulling her notebook and pencil out from her backpack.

You blink at the girl in front of you. “I’m sorry, who are you? Mrs. Hooshang’s class has about two hundred students. I don’t think I can remember everyone’s names from the top of my head,” you said.

The girl smiles at you and tucks her hair behind her ears. “My name’s Mina. I sit a row behind you and Roxanna,” said Mina.

You give her a tired smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Mina. I apologize for not knowing your name; I assume you know my name?” You ask, organizing your things on the table to give Mina some space to put her stuff on the table.

Mina nods her head. “That’s right! I mainly know you because you’re quite famous in the Akademiya and among the student body.”

“I’m famous in the Akademiya? That’s news to me,” you muttered.

You continue to study for your literature class, occasionally yawning in between your studies. While you’re studying for your literature class, Mina is doing her homework and strikes up a conversation with you from time to time. You close your textbook and push it to the side, rubbing your head with a shaky sigh.

Mina looks at you worriedly. “Are you okay, [Y/N]?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I woke up really early today to come here to study. I ended up skipping out on breakfast, and now I’m starting to regret it,” you said.

“Are you feeling hungry or thirsty? We can take a break from studying and go to the cafeteria for you to get something to eat before your class starts,” Mina suggests.

You shake your head. “I don’t feel hungry. I’m feeling nauseous,” you reply, resting your head on the table and swallowing the lump in your throat.

You hate feeling nauseous; other than the feeling of wanting to throw up, feeling sick to your stomach is the second thing you hate the most. You’re starting to notice that your arms feel heavy and your eyes are threatening to shut. You’re so tired, but you’re also feeling queasy.

Mina gets up from her seat and hurries over to your seat. “We should take you to the infirmary if that’s the case. We wouldn’t want you to get worse,” Mina says, kneeling beside you.

You nod and slowly get up from your seat with the help of Mina. Mina quickly packs both of your things before ushering you to the Akademiya’s infirmary while carrying your and her backpack. While on your way to the Akademiya’s infirmary, Mina accidentally drops your and her backpack on your way. Both you and Mina walk past your two boyfriends, who were just walking out of the office they were in. Al Haitham and Kaveh pause in their steps when they see you and Mina stumbling to the Akademiya infirmary, you slumping down in Mina’s arms while she carries you haphazardly.

“Should we go and see what’s going on?” Kaveh asks Al Haitham, watching you and Mina stumble out of the Akademiya doors.

Al Haitham nods his head. “Let’s go,” Al Haitham says.

Kaveh and Al Haitham run after you and Mina, hoping that nothing had happened to you while you were in House of Daena, studying for your literature class. Everything to you feels like a sudden blur. One minute you’re in the library; the next, you open your eyes and find yourself in the Akademiya’s infirmary room while your classmate is pacing back and forth. Mina’s head turns in your direction when you groan and cover your eyes with your arms.

Mina rushes over to where you lay and gently pushes you down on the bed when you try to sit up. “You should lay down a little longer. You fainted on our way to the infirmary,” Mina says.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when the door bursts open. Mina screeches and jumps back, looking over at the door with wide eyes. Al Haitham and Kaveh are panting and looking around the infirmary worriedly.

“The Scribe?” Mina whispers when she and Al Haitham make eye contact.

Kaveh rolls his eyes and holds his hand up. “And Kaveh. What am I? Chopped liver?”

Behind Al Haitham and Kaveh was a commotion coming from the main door of the infirmary. You look at the door and see the other men piling into the infirmary room, pushing against each other while grumbling.

“Ow! Watch it!” Xiao scowls, glaring at Thoma, who accidentally stepped on the Yaksha’s foot while trying to push through the crowd of men.

Thoma gives Xiao an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Xiao. I didn’t mean to step on your foot, buddy,” Thoma says.

“What are you guys doing here?” You ask, clearing your scratchy throat.

You attempt to sit on the infirmary bed, only for Mina to push you back down and give you a look your mother would usually give you when she catches you sneaking snacks into your bedroom while she’s on the phone with your father. Once everyone is able to enter the infirmary room without stepping on each other’s toes, Baizhu walks over to you and presses his hand on your forehead.

“You don’t have a fever,” Baizhu says, his eyes scanning you from head to toe.

Venti sits on the edge of the infirmary bed and lightly squeezes your calf. “The Akademiya infirmary gave us a call, saying it’s urgent and how you collapsed on your way here,” Venti explains, giving you a sad smile.

“How come you didn’t inform us that you’re sick? Al Haitham could have informed the school and your professors about it and let you stay home for a few days,” Tighnari sighs.

Mina stares at Tighnari’s ears with wide eyes, her hand slowly reaching for Tighnari’s ears. Tighanari arrows his eyes at Mina and slaps her hand away before it can reach his ears. You shake your head and rub your temples. Mina barely met the men, and she’s already giving them a bad first impression, which is unfortunate, especially if she’s going to be making an appearance in your life every now and then. Tighnari walks around Mina and stands close to the infirmary bed, assessing you from head to toe with Baizhu and Albedo by his side.

“But I’m not sick! I feel fine, other than feeling really tired,” you said.

Childe and Diluc trade looks with each other before turning to look at you. You do look tired; there are noticeable bags under your eyes, your skin tone is lackluster, and your eyes are bloodshot from the lack of sleep.

“How much sleep have you been getting since you started attending the Akademiya?” Diluc asks.

You press your lips into a thin line. When was the last time you had a proper sleep schedule? You would pull all-nighters just to study and complete your assignments for certain classes. The longest sleep you would get would be around six hours, but it’s not consistent.

You hesitate for a moment. “Uh, about six hours? But I haven’t been sleeping much ever since,” you reply.

Mina sighs in defeat and hunches forward. “[Y/N], you need to sleep longer than that. Adults need long nights of sleep compared to children and teens,” Mina says.

Albedo shakes his head at Mina’s comment. “That’s completely false. Children and teens require more sleep than adults. An adult requires about seven to ten hours of sleep, whereas children and teenagers need more than that,” Albedo says.

Mina rolls her eyes at Albedo and crosses her arms over her chest with a loud ‘hmph!’ and points her nose up in the air. “My statement still stands. [Y/N] needs to sleep longer than six hours,” Mina says.

Itto points at Mina. “Onikabuto booboo bear, who’s this lady?” Itto asks, giving Mina a strange look while her nose continues to point toward the air.

You give Itto a weak smile and toss the thin blanket off your legs. “Everyone, this is Mina! She’s my classmate and the one that helped me get to the Akademiya’s infirmary before I could pass out in House of Daena,” you said.

You stretch your legs and slowly stand up. Aether walks over to you and hands you a cup of water. You give him a thankful smile and take a sip. Mina gives you a proud smile and turns to the men around her.

“If it weren’t for me, [Y/N] would have fainted in the library. I expect a thank you from everyone in the infirmary,” Mina says, propping her hands on her hips while tapping her left foot on the tile floors.

“Uh, thank you for doing the bare minimum?” Aether asks, narrowing his eyes at the dusty-blonde girl.

Mina gives Aether a small glare before turning to look at you. “Who are those men? They don’t look related to each other, nor do you look related to any of them,” Mina huffs, giving the twenty-five men the side eye.

“They’re—”

Childe cuts you off.

“We’re their boyfriends. That’s right, all twenty-five of us are dating [Y/N]. We’re not dating each other; we’re only interested in [Y/N] and [Y/N] only,” Childe says, strutting over to you with his head held high and a big smirk on his face.

Mina looks at you with wide eyes, her jaws slacked. “You’re dating twenty-five men at once!? How does that even work!?” Mina asks, running her hand through her hair.

You sigh and shrug your shoulders. Quite frankly, you’re not even sure yourself. Some men are more possessive than others, and you’re surprised that the relationship is working out just fine without someone losing an arm or a leg. Childe wraps his arms around your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head, stroking your hair with his right hand. You close your eyes and press your forehead on his neck, breathing in his cologne.

“We manage to make it work,” Kaeya says nonchalantly.

“So, has the doctor informed you of what is going on, or did they not check up on you yet?” Ayato asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “I woke up a minute before Al Haitham, and Kaveh burst through the doors, so I don’t think the doctor has checked up on me yet,” you reply.

Scaramouche grumbles and stalks over to you and Childe, pulling the tall ginger-haired Harbinger away from you. Scaramouche has you sit back down on the bed and shakes his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Then we might as well wait for the doctors at the Akademiya check up on [Y/N] before we can take them home,” Scaramouche says.

You blink at Scaramouche and do a double take. “Wait, what? Take me home already? I barely studied for Mrs. Hooshang’s literature class!” You exclaim.

“While we understand that your grades are important, you need to put your health over your studies,” Zhongli says, stroking your hair.

You sigh and lean against Zhongli, pressing your head against Zhongli’s abdomen. “It’s barely nine in the morning, and I’m already getting checked out of school before my classes start,” you mutter, closing your eyes.

“I’m sure your professors will understand. After all, you don’t want to faint in class now, do you?” Kazuha asks, sitting down beside you.

You peek at Kazuha from the corner of your eyes and slowly pull from Zhongli. “That’s true. It would be humiliating if I fainted during lectures,” you murmur.

The Akademiya doctor steps into your temporary room and stops in his tracks when he sees the number of people in the room with you. He sighs and shakes his head, looking down at the clipboard in his hand.

“I’m assuming all of you are the patient’s visitors?” The doctor raises his eyebrows at everyone in the room.

Dainsleif nods and crosses his arms over his chest. “That is correct,” Dainsleif answers.

The doctor mutters under his breath before weaving through the crowd of people to get to where you’re sitting. The doctor asked you the usual questions, checked your vitals, and did other things while you weren’t mentally present. About twenty minutes have passed, and the doctor has informed you and everyone in the room that you’re not sick and that you’re lacking sleep. And because you didn’t get enough sleep, it caused you to faint on your way to the Akademiya’s infirmary, and you’re lucky to have Mina to be the one to assist you to the infirmary.

Gorou sighs in relief. “It’s a good thing that you’re not sick, angel! I’m glad you’re healthy,” Gorou says, wrapping his arms around your body and nuzzling his face into your neck, his tail wrapping around your waist.

“Eh, they’re kind of healthy. I’m pretty sure that skipping out on your sleep isn’t healthy,” Heizou interjects, shrugging his shoulders.

“So, do we take them home now, or are we going to continue to let them stay in school for the day?” Cyno asks, looking over at you.

Pantalone chuckles. “That depends on how many classes they have today,” Pantalone says, turning to look at you.

You blink at Pantalone and search on your person for your schedule. You sigh after realizing that you put your class schedule in your backpack. You fall back on the bed and close your eyes.

“My class schedule is in my backpack,” you muttered.

Mina’s eyes widen. “Oh no, I think I dropped it somewhere in the Akademiya while I was taking you to the infirmary,” Mina says, grabbing the roots of her hair and lightly pulling at it while cursing under her breath.

Pierro rolls his eyes. “No need to worry or panic. We were able to retrieve it when we first arrived at the Akademiya,” Pierro says, holding up the two backpacks in one hand.

You sigh in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Pierro. I have textbooks that cost three hundred mora, and I cannot afford to lose them,” you said, getting up from the bed and walking to Pierro to retrieve your backpack.

Mina stares at Pierro and looks over at you; you can see the look of disgust visible on her face. “You’re dating a man that is older than my father?” Mina asks, her face scrunching up. “Other than the questionable age gap between you and [Y/N], thank you for retrieving our backpacks, sir,” Mina mutters, grabbing her backpack from Pierro’s grasp.

You dig through your backpack and pull out your schedule. “Today is Wednesday, and I have three classes, but they’re spread out. I have one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and the last class is in the early evening,” you said, looking up at the men in front of you.

“With what has happened today and the number of classes you have, I believe that it's best for you to skip class for today for your health. You need to rest and get some sleep,” Capitano says.

You give Capitano a look of disbelief. “But if I skip out on my class today, I’ll be behind in my classes!” You sputter, looking over at the others for help.

“I understand that you don’t like falling behind in class, but you can skip out for one day. After all, you have us, and we can help you with your class in case you fall behind,” Dottore says.

Mina gives you a small smile. “If you let me look at your schedule, I can drop by after your professor’s lectures and collect any assignments for you. Or I can ask your classmates for a copy of their notes for you,” Mina proposes.

You look at Mina with wide eyes and look at the others in the room. “I don’t know, Mina. I don’t want you to waste your time and do this for me. After all, Al Haitham and Kaveh can always drop by my classes and gather the assignments for me instead,” you said.

Mina shakes her head. “No, I insist. Plus, they have a tough position in the Akademiya that puts a lot of responsibilities on them. Please, let me help you,” Mina pleads.

You sigh for the umpteenth time and nod your head reluctantly. Mina smiles at you and walks over to you when you hold your schedule out in her direction. Mina looks down at your schedule and skims through the words on the paper.

“Alright, I will give you your schedule by the end of the day! Can you give me your address, by the way? I need to drop your assignments off to you, and I can’t do that if I don’t know your address,” Mina says.

Al Haitham holds his hand up and shakes his head. “That won’t be needed. Once you have collected the assignments and notes for [Y/N], Kaveh and I will take it from there and give it to [Y/N] after we have received it,” Al Haitham says.

Mina sighs in defeat and nods her head, reluctantly agreeing to Al Haitham’s plan. The men end up taking you back to the abode to rest. Thoma carries your backpack while Cyno is carrying you on his back. Even though Cyno didn’t need to hold you, Cyno continued to insist on giving you a piggyback ride so you wouldn’t end up fainting like earlier.

Once you all arrive back to the abode, minus Al Haitham and Kaveh, you’re sent straight to your room to change out of your Akademiya uniform and are instructed to stay in bed while one of the men will bring food up to your bedroom. You take a quick shower, change into your pajamas and sit on your bed. Once you have sat down on your bed, a wave of exhaustion hits you like a sumpter beast.

You plop down on your bed and throw your blanket over your head. You snuggle into your pillows and close your eyes, feeling yourself slowly drift off to sleep. Before sleep consumes you, your bedroom door opens, and you hear footsteps approaching your bed. You grumble and toss the blanket off your head, and turn to see the men with food trays in their hands.

“We’ll be joining you while you eat in your bedroom to keep you company if you don’t mind,” Thoma says, placing a tray of food on your lap and brushing your damp hair away from your forehead.

Seeing that your hair is still wet from your shower, Ayato gives you a disapproving look. “[Y/N], what did we say about not drying our hair after taking a shower?” Ayato asks, placing his food tray on your desk and walking over to you.

You purse your lips. “That if we don’t dry our hair, we’ll get a headache and get sick,” you mutter like a child being scolded by their parents.

“I’ll dry their hair,” Diluc offers, walking over to the bathroom to grab the hair dryer.

You sigh and pick up your food, taking a bite out of it. “I don’t need to be babied, you guys. I’m an Akademiya scholar, dammit! I am an adult who is working toward a degree!” You said, grabbing a paper napkin and tossing it on your bed lightly.

“Hush now and eat your food,” Tighnari says, patting your head lightly.

You gave in and let Diluc blow-dry your hair while Ayato brushed your hair. You weren’t too fond of blow drying your hair, mainly because it takes up a lot of time, and you didn’t want to wait. You prefer air-drying your hair because you’re not exposing your hair to heat, even though you can dry your hair with the cold option. Either way, you think that using the hair dryer is too much of a hassle and decide to let your hair air dry instead.

“How are you feeling right now?” Aether asks, sitting beside you after Diluc and Ayato finish drying your hair.

You shrug your shoulders. “I’m still tired, but other than that, I feel okay,” you reply, reaching for the paper napkin you threw and wiping your lips. “So, what do you guys think of Mina?” You ask suddenly, looking up from your food and watching for their reactions to your question.

“She’s an interesting one. She did spew some misinformation that Albedo had to correct her on,” Heizou says, munching on his sashimi platter.

Albedo crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what made her think adults need more sleep than children and teenagers, but she’s wrong. The only thing she is correct on is how you need more than six hours of sleep each night,” Albedo says.

“How long have you and Mina known each other?” Tighnari asks.

You laugh sheepishly and rub the back of your neck. “We have class together, but I didn’t even know she existed until today. Quite frankly, I didn’t even know that we were in the same class until she told me in the library,” you reply.

“So, she just randomly approached you while you were studying,” Xiao states, raising an eyebrow at you.

You nod. “That is correct,” you reply.

You and the men continue to eat until everyone is finished eating. Once you’re done eating, Childe takes your food tray and goes downstairs, with the others following after him. Baizhu stayed behind to check up on you while you got situated in your bed, lying down, pulling your blanket up to your chin, and snuggling into your pillows.

“Make sure to get as much rest as you can. We wouldn’t want you to collapse and fall ill because you’re not getting enough sleep,” Baizhu says, pressing his hand against your forehead again.

“I’ll try my best to sleep in longer,” you reply, letting out a yawn.

Baizhu smiles and presses a kiss on your head before walking out of your bedroom and closing the door behind him. After you have fallen asleep, you don’t know how long you have been sleeping; it feels like you have been asleep for a few hours. What woke you up from your slumber was hearing your bedroom door open and someone walking into your room. You can never sleep when someone is in the same room as you, especially if they’re awake. You crack your eyes open and look around your dark bedroom, only to see Al Haitham and Kaveh putting your assignments (you’re assuming) on your desk.

“Dammit, you two woke [Y/N] up,” Scaramouche whispers from the entrance of your bedroom.

You sit up and rub your eyes. “What time is it?” You ask.

“It’s three in the afternoon. You’ve been asleep for a few hours now,” Cyno answers, peeking into your bedroom.

You mumble incoherently and plop down on your bed, snuggling into your blanket. “I’ll be up in a few hours to do my homework. I’ll thank Mina when I see her tomorrow,” you murmur into your blanket.

“You’re not going to be doing your homework for today. Again, you need to rest for the entire day and let your body relax. It’s okay to take a break from school work for one day,” Childe interjects, peeking into your room.

You bury your face into your pillow, sighing into your pillow. “Alright, alright. I’ll take a break for today and do my assignments tomorrow. But just to let you all know, you’re going to need to help me catch up on my homework,” you said, waving your hand around blindly.

“We’re fine with that as long as you’re getting the rest you need,” Venti says, trotting into your bedroom to plant a kiss on your forehead.

After Venti kissed your forehead, the other men followed behind Venti to give you a kiss on the cheek, forehead, head, and chin. While they’re giving you kisses on your face, you give their hands a light squeeze. As much as you want to kiss them goodnight (?), you didn’t want to risk anything if you were actually sick, even if the Akademiya doctor and Baizhu informed you that you weren’t ill. You don’t want any of the men to get sick, whether you’re feeling under the weather or not. The last person to leave your bedroom was Kazuha; he ran his fingers through your hair and kissed your cheek.

“Get plenty of rest, okay?” Kazuha murmurs, stroking your cheek.

You nod. “I will, Kazuha.” You reach up and grab his hand, gently squeezing his hand before releasing Kazuha’s hand.

Kazuha gets up and walks over to the door, turning your bedroom lights off and shutting the door behind him.

Ever since the incident of you collapsing due to lack of sleep, Mina has been at your side at all times at the Akademiya. The only time she’s not by your side is when you two have different classes. You wouldn’t really call her a friend, mainly because you two only hang out during school hours and wouldn’t speak to each other outside of the Akademiya. You weren’t complaining at all; it’s normal in universities. People make acquaintances at the school they attend, talk and hang out with those people during school hours, and wouldn’t speak to one another outside of school.

You notice that ever since you and Mina have been hanging out with each other more during school hours, Mina has been adopting your habits and behaviors, which is somewhat normal since friends tend to mimic one another. Lovers would also mimic each other’s behavior and routine. But this one, you can’t put your finger on it.

“Hey, Mina! Wanna go to the Grand Bazaar with Roxanna and me?” Farah asks, approaching you and Mina with Roxanna walking next to her.

Mina looks at Roxanna and Farah with wide eyes. She then looks over at you; you shrug your shoulders in response.

“Don’t look at me! They’re the ones inviting you to go to the Grand Bazaar with them!” You said, clutching your textbooks against your chest. “Plus, I think you should go! It’ll be fun!” You lightly nudge Mina’s side.

Mina shrugs her shoulders and looks at Roxanna and Farah with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, ladies. As much as I would love to go to the Grand Bazaar with both of you, I’m going to have to pass on this one. I have so many things to study, and I also saw this amazing opportunity that I could not pass up on! Does next time sound okay for you two?” Mina asks, biting on her bottom lip as she looks at Roxanna and Farah nervously.

Roxanna smiles and nods her head. “Yeah, that’s fine with us! We can go to the Grand Bazaar together next time!” Roxanna says.

Mina gives Roxanna and Farah a small smile and waves at them as they walk away. Mina turns to you and sighs, hunching forward and rubbing her temples. “I have so much studying to do for my botany class,” Mina says.

You look at Mina, surprised. “Oh! You’re taking botany classes? I thought you were part of the Illuminationism?” You ask.

Mina runs her fingers through her dusty-blonde hair. “I was, but then I switched over to biology because it seems easier compared to Illuminationism. Plus, Azar is associated with the Rtawahist. I don’t want to be associated with the Grand Sage,” Mina huffs.

You nod. “That is true… ever since the Grand Sage was exposed for his schemes, I don’t think anyone wants to be associated with him. However, I’m not sure how people view the Rtawahist. I’m sure people won’t care if you’re part of the Rtawahist,” you murmur.

“I know, but still. Plus, I saw how much you enjoy being a biology major, so I wanted to see what the hype is all about!” Mina says.

“You could’ve taken some biology courses as your elective, but since you want to make it your major, I don’t see why not,” You said. “Now, I’ll leave you to your studies. I have some things to tend to at my place.”

Mina looks at you with wide eyes and grabs your biceps to prevent you from leaving. “What? You’re not going to go to House of Daena to study?” Mina asks.

“Not really. I have completed my studies already this morning,” You answer.

“But I didn’t see you there when I went to House of Daena myself!” Mina exclaims.

You give Mina a strange look. “I didn’t go to House of Daena to study, Mina. I decided to study at my house today since I sort of woke up later than usual,” you shrug your shoulders.

You look down at your bicep and then at Mina, waiting for her to let go of your bicep. Mina reluctantly lets go of your arm and gives you a fake smile. You give her a small smile, bidding her goodbye, before walking off.

“Have you guys noticed something strange about Mina?” You ask one day at the dinner table, biting into your zhongyuan.

“She’s always been strange! Her being strange is nothing new to us,” Itto says casually as he takes a big bite out of his mixed yakisoba.

“He’s not wrong there,” Dainslief mutters, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

“We don’t really see her as often as you do, so can you perhaps explain to us how Mina has been acting strange?” Gorou asks, slurping up his noodles.

You then go into the details of how strange Mina has been acting for the past few days. Maybe she has been this way, but you can’t help but notice how Mina would watch you like a hawk and would want to be around you more often. While you see her as a fellow classmate and Akademiya buddy, you can’t help but get a strange feeling from Mina. You can’t put your finger on the specific thing, but you know you’re not going crazy. Perhaps you are, since you still need to fix your sleep schedule.

“She switched her major to biology, and she has a sudden interest in studying? I don’t find those strange at all, considering people do change their majors when they find another passion. Is there anything else that she did that you find strange?” Kaeya asks.

“She rejected Roxanna and Farah’s invite to go to the Grand Bazaar just to study in House of Daena. Mina never misses out on going to the Grand Bazaar, and it’s strange that she turned down that invitation,” you said, chewing on your zhongyuan.

Zhongli hums and strokes his chin. “Perhaps there’s an exam coming up for her? Though the sudden major changes during the first two weeks of a new quarter are strange and a drastic decision to make,” Zhongli says.

“I mean, Mina questioned me why I wasn’t going to be studying in the library today, and she suddenly grabbed my bicep to prevent me from leaving,” you shrug your shoulders.

“She sounds weird and a little bit too eager to have you as a friend or a study partner,” Pantalone says, twirling his noodle around his fork.

You shake your head and grab another zhongyuan. “Maybe she’s been stressed out with her studies that she needed me to be there as a support of some kind. I understand if she needs a study partner, but she could’ve informed me about it the day before or something like that,” you mutter.

“Maybe you’re all too quick to judge the girl. After all, [Y/N] only hangs out with Mina during school hours. They don’t spend enough time together for [Y/N] to find what’s off and what’s not off about Mina,” Dottore says, taking a bite out of his steak.

Capitano snorts. “That won’t stop us from finding her behavior strange,” Capitano mutters.

Your “friendship” with Mina continues to become strange the more you watch her closely. Whenever you mentioned Al Haitham getting you a new Akademiya uniform that has custom embroidery on it, Mina would get a new Akademiya uniform with similar embroidery on it. You decided not to make a big deal out of it and brush it off as a coincidence.

A few days later, you have decided to get your hair trimmed. You think your hair is getting a bit too long, so you go to a hair salon in Inazuma to get a trim with the men accompanying you to keep you company. When you showed up to the Akademiya with your hair trimmed, Mina suddenly got a trim. Not only did Mina cut her hair, but she also dyed her hair to a hair color that is similar to yours and styled it in a way like how you would style your hair.

“What do you think?” Mina asks, twirling her hair around her fingers.

You give her a fake smile. “It looks cute! What made you go this route for your hair? It’s a bit of a drastic change,” you said, examining her appearance closely.

Mina looks almost eerily similar to you, but she doesn’t look like you, thankfully. The hair length, the hair color, the sudden change of uniform with the same embroidery as yours. It was all too similar. This cannot be a coincidence at this point.

Mina shrugs her shoulders. “I have a few inspirations here and there for a new look and style,” Mina says. “I think this style suits me well.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “Well, I’m curious about your inspirations,” you said.

“[Y/N],” you hear Al Haitham call your name.

You and Mina turn your heads. “Yes?” You and Mina answer in unison.

What the fuck? Your head snaps in Mina’s direction, looking at her incredulously. “Did you just answer to my name?” You ask.

Mina looks at you like a fish out of water, her mouth agape as she tries to answer your question. Al Haitham and Kaveh slowly approach you and Mina, his eyebrows raised. You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for Mina’s response.

“This is getting weird,” Kaveh interjects, looking between you and your copycat.

Mina sputters and scratches the back of her neck— a habit you would do whenever you’re nervous or unsure of the situation. Aside from your looks, did Mina adopt your nervous habits as hers as well? And maybe your name?

“I didn’t know there were two [Y/N]s,” you hear Tighnari say sarcastically.

You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “Yeah, I didn’t know I had a twin either, Tighnari,” you deadpan, staring at Mina blankly.

“Listen, I blanked out, and I wasn’t fully paying attention. [Y/N] and Mina kind of rhyme with each other, hence why I answered without thinking!” Mina says.

Cyno chuckles and purses his lips. “I don’t know, Mina. I’m not a rhyme expert or anything, but something tells me that [Y/N] and Mina do not rhyme with each other at all. Perhaps we can ask your literature professor about it, or maybe a poetry professor,” Cyno shrugs his shoulders.

You sigh and take your beret off, ruffling your hair. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, Mina. If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend with Al Haitham, Kaveh, Cyno, and Tighnari,” you said.

Before you can walk off with the four men, Mina grabs your wrist. You stop in your tracks and turn to look at her. Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, and Cyno stop to look, their eyebrows raised. They all look impatient, but they also look interested in what is going to unfold. Mina visibly gulps and lets go of your wrist.

“I was wondering if you’re going to be studying in House of Daena today because I need assistance with my studies,” Mina says, rubbing the fabric of her Akademiya uniform between her thumb and index finger.

“It depends on how long this meeting is going to go,” you said.

You see Mina’s eyes light up with interest. “Oh? What’s this meeting about?” Mina asks.

You blink at Mina and look over at the four men standing behind you. You’re not entirely sure if you should tell Mina about your upcoming project for the Akademiya or not. Your project involves extensive research inside and outside of the Akademiya; Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, and Cyno are also part of this research.

“It’s about my grades and how I’m doing in the Akademiya. Since I’ve been here for a short time, I want to find a way to graduate from the Akademiya sooner rather than later,” you lie.

Mina gasps and looks at you with wide eyes. “What?! But you can’t do that!” Mina exclaims, startling you and the four men behind you.

“And why is that?” You ask slowly.

“Because!” Mina sputters. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat, adjusting her Akademiya uniform and her beret. “If you graduate early, you won’t do well in the real world. Plus, you’re going to be leaving me behind!” Mina frowns.

The four men behind you look over at each other, their eyebrows furrowing with confusion after hearing Mina’s strange explanation. You look at Mina for a second and scratch the back of your head. You’re not entirely sure what year Mina is in at the Akademiya, and you’re unsure whether Mina is aware that you’re close to graduating or not.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply in your first claim, but you don’t need to worry about me and my future outside of the Akademiya. Plus, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but I’m a third-year Akademiya student,” you said.

“Third year?!” Mina screeches, her eyes the size of dinner plates.

You nod.

“How are you a third year at the Akademiya when you’re a recent student?! How is that possible?” Mina asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “I had to complete a lot of exams for my placement. While I have no prior education in Teyvat, I do have some knowledge,” you said.

Mina stares at you blankly. “What are you saying?”

There’s no way you’re going to reveal to Mina that you’re an outlander like Aether and Lumine. While they exist in the world of Genshin, you do not exist in this world at all. You magically appeared in their world and had to adapt to your new life somehow.

“I was really dumb, and now I am not dumb because these men,” you gesture to Al Haitham, Kaveh, Cyno, and Tighnari behind you, “are the reason why I am where I’m at in the Akademiya. They guided me through many things and they are my mentors. They taught me academic discipline and taught me how to do well in the Akademiya,” you lie.

You winced inwardly at your awful lie. It’s better than admitting that you’re not from their universe; who knows what Mina would do with that information? But other than that, you wish you could have come up with something better than what you just said to Mina. Without having to look behind you, you can tell the four men are also cringing at your awful lie. Mina slowly nods her head and presses her lips into a thin line, not saying anything. You can’t tell if Mina bought your lie or not.

Mina looks at you quizzically. “What do you mean by that? You’re not dumb. You may lack the education, but you’re not dumb,” Mina says. She grabs you by your shoulders and shakes you lightly.

You feel your eye twitch, and you give her a fake smile. You grab her wrists and take a step back from Mina. You clear your throat and turn to look at the four men, who have been patiently waiting for you to finish the conversation with Mina.

“Let’s go now, shall we?” You breathed.

Kaveh, Cyno, Al Haitham, and Tighnari nod their heads before walking off with you following after them. You didn’t think much of what happened later that day. After the meeting with Al Haitham, Kaveh, Cyno, and Tighnari, you collapsed on the couch at the abode, face down. Your beret falls off your head and lands on the ground beside you.

“Today is exhausting. I hope next week will be more eventful and not exhausting,” you groan into the cushions.

“Eventful? How eventful do you want it to be?” Aether asks, plopping down beside you on the couch.

You raise your head and see Aether looking at you with a cute smile. You let your head fall on the cushion and mumble something to yourself. You’re so tired, but you need to change out of your Akademiya uniform. But at the same time, you’re also not in the mood to get up and change into your pajamas. After the long meeting, you don’t want to do anything at all but sleep. Someone pokes you on your head. You look up and see Aether peering down at you.

“To answer your question, I’m not sure. I don’t want it to be a long meeting like today; it’s an exhausting day, especially after what happened with Mina,” you reply.

Aether pouts and pulls you up into his arms, cuddling with you while you lay there and accept his hugs and cuddles. You close your eyes and throw your arms around his slim waist, nuzzling your head against his chest. Aether chuckles and scratches the back of your head, making you hum with contentment.

“Oh, dear. What happened with Mina?” Thoma asks.

“When Al Haitham said my name, Mina answered to my name also, but she came up with the excuse that [Y/N] and Mina rhyme,” you huff, burying your face into Aether’s chest.

You feel Aether jolt beneath you at your response. You look up to see Aether furrowing his eyebrows while brushing his messy blond hair away from his face. You lay your head against his chest and listen to his heart beating against his chest.

“Not only that happened, but the four of them also had to witness Mina’s strange behavior. The strangest reaction I got from her was me talking about graduating early. She tried to discourage me from doing so even though I almost meet the requirements of graduating early,” you said, tracing small patterns on Aether’s stomach.

Xiao scoffs and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest with a deep frown on his face. “What kind of person discourages their friends from achieving their goals?” Xiao mutters.

“You’d be surprised by the type of people that exists, Xiao,” Itto says, plopping down on the couch where you and Aether are sitting and lying down behind you, sandwiching you between him and Aether. Itto grabs you by your waist and pulls you over to him, laying you on top of him while he massages your scalp with his long nails. You hum in delight and burrow your face into Itto’s neck while Aether glares at Itto, getting off the couch while muttering under his breath.

“I have a bad feeling about Mina. If she reacted this way and is mimicking everything [Y/N] has and does, then there’s a chance she might take it further,” Ayato mutters, shaking his head.

Venti looks at Ayato warily. “What do you mean by that?” Venti asks.

“Let’s not talk about Mina right now. Just thinking about her and the things she’s doing to be like me makes me feel very unsettled,” you shiver. You roll off of Itto and stretch your arms in the air with a yawn. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower and change into my pajamas. Maybe I’ll take a nap or something! It’s been a long day, and I can use a nap,” you said, glancing around to search for the clock to see what time it was.

“We’ll wake you up when it’s almost time for dinner,” Baizhu says, ruffling your hair as you walk by them.

You nod and walk up the stairs to your bedroom. You took a shower, changed into your pajamas, and collapsed on your bed. You were too lazy to dry your hair, and quite frankly, you’re somewhat prepared for the scolding of a lifetime from the men for not drying your hair mainly because you’re too tired to think about the consequences— which there is none other than them scolding you about it.

The first thing you wake up to is, “[Y/N]! Did you not dry your hair again!? Your pillow case is wet!” Diluc scolds you.

You crack your eyes open and look over where Diluc’s voice is coming from. You lift your head and slowly sit up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You turn to look at your pillow and see that your pillowcase is wet from your hair. You reach for your hair and touch it; it’s still damp, maybe a little bit drier than it was before you went to take a nap.

“We’re scolding them the minute they wake up from their nap?” Kaeya asks, smirking at Diluc from the doorway.

You slowly get out of your bed and walk over to your dresser and grab your brush. “I was too tired to dry my hair before taking a nap. Can you blame me?” You mutter, brushing your wet hair with the brush. You close your eyes and lean against the dresser, resting your chin on the top of the dresser, and yawn.

“How tired are you?” Scaramouche asks.

You let out another yawn. “Really tired, and it’s annoying,” you mumble. “I think I’m even more tired than I was after I fainted while going to the Akademiya’s infirmary a while ago.”

“We’ll have Baizhu and Dottore check up on you after dinner. How does that sound?” Heizou asks, peeking his head into your bedroom.

You nod your head. “Fine by me,” you mutter. You open your eyes and place the brush back on the dresser, and slowly walk over to where the men are standing. “I’m assuming dinner is ready. I can smell the food,” you said, rubbing your tired eyes with your fist.

“And you are correct! Now, let’s go downstairs and eat!” Gorou says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him.

“Hold on for a second. Before any of you can eat dinner, [Y/N] needs to dry their hair,” Dainsleif says, stopping in front of you and Gorou.

You and Gorou nearly walk into Dainsleif’s chest; Gorou stops abruptly, causing you to walk into his back. You groan and turn around to go back to your bedroom to blow dry your hair. So much for coming downstairs on time for dinner. Now here you are, walking to the bathroom to turn on the hair dryer to dry your damp hair. Maybe after dinner, you’ll change your pillowcase— if there are any pillowcases available until you wash and dry the wet pillowcase.

A few days later, you and the men strut into the Akademiya. Today is the day when you’re holding a grand presentation in front of the higher-ups in the Akademiya since the presentation is part of your big research project with Al Haitham, Tighnari, Cyno, and Kaveh. You’re walking to the auditorium where the presentation is being held; you’re holding a box that is stacked on top of each other while the men walk beside you and behind you.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to hold that for you?” Zhongli sighs.

You nod your head. “I’m sure, Zhongli! It’s not like I’m going to drop it or anything,” you said, peeking from behind the box to make sure you were not walking into someone.

“The boxes are obscuring your vision, dove. At least let us take some of the boxes so you’d be able to see your path,” Kazuha says softly.

You stop in your tracks and nod. “Alright, since you all insisted. Grab some of the boxes,” you said, turning to the men.

Kazuha, Zhongli, and Albedo grab the three boxes stacked on top of the one you’re holding onto. Before you can say anything, Childe takes the box out of your hand and pats your head with a smile on his face.

“I know you wanted to carry this box, but I want to be a good boyfriend and take this box out of your hands. You don’t need to carry anything heavy as long as we’re around,” Childe proudly says.

You sigh in defeat and comply. You all continue walking to the auditorium to prepare for your big presentation in front of the Akademiya. You’re not much of a public speaker, but with Kaveh, Cyno, Al Haitham, and Tighnari assisting you in your presentation, you think it should go smoothly. Or, at least, you hope it does.

“Remember, if you lose your train of thought during the presentation, you needn’t worry. I’m sure Al Haitham, Tighnari, Cyno, and Kaveh can continue that part of the presentation,” Albedo says.

“I hope everything goes smoothly and nothing ends up going down south,” you murmur.

You look down at the clipboard in your hands and go through your to-do list to ensure you didn’t leave anything out before the presentation. While you’re wearing formal wear, you’re wearing it beneath your Akademiya uniform. It’s a big presentation for your ongoing research project. Therefore, you need to look presentable for the stage. You flip through the clipboard and go over the notes with the four men involved in your research project.

You all approach the auditorium; you push through the large wooden doors and walk down to the stage of the auditorium. You notice Mina standing on the stage, talking to one of the Akademiya professors. It looks like she was arguing with them, almost. You and the men trade looks with each other and slowly walk up the stage.

“You are not the presenter, Mina. I find it disrespectful of you to pull this kind of stunt!” The Akademiya professor hisses, glaring daggers at the girl in front of him.

“But Professor Rahal—”

“I apologize for interrupting you two, but what is going on?” You speak up.

Mina freezes in her spot. Professor Rahal gives Mina a look, crossing his arms over his chest. You hear Mina take a shaky breath and slowly turn to face you. Your eyes widen, and the clipboard in your hands falls and clatters loudly on the stage floor.

“Mina? Why do you have my face?” You whisper, your hands trembling in front of you.

Dottore narrows his eyes at Mina. “How did you achieve such a thing?” Dottore mutters.

“You weren’t kidding when you said that Mina is trying to be you,” Pantalone says, glaring at the girl in front of him.

“She really takes the word copycat to another level. Not only did she want to be like you, but she also wanted to be you. Literally,” Itto says, looking at Mina, appalled.

You let out a fake laugh and clenched your hands into fists. “Listen, I have an important presentation starting in about,” you look over at the clock, “fifteen minutes. I do not have the time to deal with your shenanigans, Mina,” you stated.

“Care to explain why you want to look like [Y/N]? It’s weird to have someone you once considered a friend trying to take your life and identity,” Diluc spats, glaring at Mina.

You shake your head and turn to the men. “Can we get her out of here? I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with someone wanting to be me,” you rub your temples with a frustrated sigh.

“How did you manage to steal [Y/N]’s face and make it your own? Not only is it creepy, but it’s strange for you to want to be [Y/N],” Albedo says, frowning at Mina.

Mina laughs softly and brushes her hair off her shoulders. It’s almost like she’s proud of what she has done. Seeing her laugh off Albedo’s question and brushing her hair from her shoulders smugly makes you want to stomp over to her and rip your face off of her face. Does she not have any shame for wanting to be you? It’s weird and creepy. Some people will find it flattering because, “oh, they’re a fan of mine. Therefore, they want to be me by mimicking everything I do and mimic my appearance!” kind of deal. But it’s weird and disturbing.

“It’s pretty easy, actually. When you know alchemists who can easily transform your appearance, you can do anything you want. But in my case, be anyone I want to be,” Mina says nonchalantly.

“I’m going to fight her,” you deadpan.

“[Y/N], don’t. You have a presentation in ten minutes,” Aether says, shaking his head.

You shake your head. “I’m going to fight Mina whether you all like it or not. Identity theft is not a joke, Jim!” You exclaim.

You take your beret off, hand it to the closest person near you, and take your Akademiya uniform off.

Cyno leans to Al Haitham. “Who’s Jim?”

Al Haitham shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t ask me. I’m just as clueless as you are,” Al Haitham sighs.

Childe places his hand on your shoulders and shakes his head. “As much as I find it sexy that you want to pummel someone to the ground, I don’t want you to get expelled from the Akademiya and ruin your future because of little miss copycat,” Childe says, putting the Akademiya uniform back on you along with the beret on your head.

You let out a sharp exhale and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Then what am I going to do with Mina? She has my face and is doing everything to be me,” you glowered, glaring over at Mina, who feigns innocence.

“What you do is start and continue with the presentation, and I will take her to the Grand Sage. She not only tries to impersonate another Akademiya student, but she also tried to falsify documents under your name,” Professor Rahal states.

He grabs Mina by her biceps and starts to drag her off the stage while she tries to get out of his grasp, cursing and screaming at the top of her lungs about how she’s being treated unfairly. You let out a shaky sigh and pressed your forehead against Al Haitham’s chest, trying to calm your racing mind.

“After the presentation, I’m going to search for Mina, and I’m going to beat her ass behind the Akademiya building for trying to impersonate me,” You mutter.

“Hey, we’re not stopping you. The only reason why we stopped you a moment ago was that an Akademiya worker was present, and we do not want you to get in trouble before your important presentation,” Tighnari says, walking up to you and Al Haitham.

You slowly sink to the ground and hug your legs to your chest. Even though Mina is facing repercussions for trying to impersonate you and copying everything you do, you still can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling off you. At first, you thought Mina intended to be your friend at the Akademiya, but you were wrong. She watched your every move, studied you closely, and got close to you just so she could complete her agenda of impersonating you.

“What’s that one thing that the people in your world say again?” Scaramouche asks, stroking his chin.

“What? Someone that is obsessed with them and keeps tabs on the person they’re obsessed with?” Ayato guesses.

Scaramouche nods his head.

“Fan behavior,” Heizou pipes up.

“Personally, I wouldn’t call that fan behavior. It’s weird and unsettling for Mina to go to an alchemist to steal [Y/N]’s face,” Kaveh huffs, crossing his arms over his chest with a glare.

“Looks like people are starting to show up to the presentation,” Thoma murmurs, turning his head to the entrance of the auditorium, watching scholars slowly trickling into the auditorium.

You stand up and dust your Akademiya uniform off, adjusting the beret on your head. “Let’s get this over with, so I can beat Mina’s ass after,” you grumble.

Venti walks over to you and places his hand on your shoulders. “Focus on your presentation. Do not let Mina occupy your thoughts while you’re presenting your research. She’s not worth your time right now. This is your project, and you need to focus. If you don’t, then Mina will win,” Venti says.

“You got this, [Y/N]. We know you do!” Gorou says, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Do well on this presentation for yourself, not as a gotcha moment to rub it in Mina’s face. You can rub it in her face after, but this presentation is for you and only you,” Baizhu says, stroking your cheek with a gentle smile on his face.

You give Baizhu a weak smile and nod. The men walk off the stage and sit in the front row while you, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, and Cyno remain on stage. You pick the clipboard off the ground and flip through it one last time before turning to the others and signaling to let them know you’re ready to start the presentation.

Your presentation is about replicating and rebuilding the ruins. While it’s not your specific area of expertise, it is part of a project you’re assisting Kaveh in. You’re hoping that the presentation goes well and that you won’t have a single thought about Mina while presenting. After all, you are going to have a little chat with her after the presentation if she’s not kicked out of the Akademiya yet for an attempt of impersonation.

Note: Now that this week's fanfic has been posted, I am now off to bed! ... After I post it on AO3 as well :'> Anyway, I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about this story?? I've been releasing questionable fics lately and I need to get my head in the game 😭 First week of school has been a pain; I got sick, and I was at school for almost thirteen hours on Wednesday, and my throat is killing me. But I am okay and somehow alive. Anyway, the next parts are copy and pasted from my previous post. For those who want to be on my new taglist, here is the link to the taglist [Genshinluvr Updated Taglist Form]! Please make sure that you allow people to mention you/tag you in posts, or else I won't be able to tag you in any future fanfics! Anyway, for those who are new here or are returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @alhaitham-scribe, @xyji, @kazuhasmuse, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @yumakj, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @living-my-best-life5, @chalksdreams, @rinswriting, @thelost-in-time, @mxn14, @ventisweetheart, @unwantedsleep, @kattythesimp, @hispasian-otaku, @Orah-s, @juuuuuj101010, @nxns3nse, @sickly-falling, @alteeeeyang, @wind1y, @wh0-ta0, @samarill (If your name has been crossed out, it means that your account did not show up when I try to tag your account. Please make sure to allow people to mention you and tag you in posts and make sure the spelling, symbols, and numbers are correct)

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joys-of-everyday · 1 year

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On the fifty shades of morally grey

So quick thoughts on how MXTX writes morally grey.

Sorry, I mean, excessively long meta post on how MXTX writes morally grey. Light spoilers for all three books.

A gazillion caveats to begin with. Firstly, I don’t want to argue about whether character x is morally good, bad, grey, pink or whatever. In my books, arguing about whether someone is or is not morally grey is like arguing whether a colour is green, blue, teal, or turquoise – we’re arguing definitions. To add to that, I’m not saying that concepts like ‘this person is overall good’ doesn’t exist, but I would posit that a morally unquestionable person does not exist. Secondly, I also don’t want to pass moral judgements on any of the characters. That’s for a different post. I strictly want to focus on the storytelling techniques that make the reader think ‘hang on a second, are they good or bad?’. Thirdly, this whole post is mainly based on How Arcane Writes MORAL AMBIGUITY (9 Methods, 4 Rules) - YouTube. Great video, great channel (no knowledge of Arcane required). Would recommend if you are interested in story writing techniques!

1) The information gap and the poor narrator

Best example is Shen Jiu from SVSSS. We barely know anything about Shen Jiu. Almost everything we know is from SQQ’s notoriously unreliable perspective, so we’re left to fill in the gaps ourselves. Depending on exactly how those gaps are filled, you can get two completely different people. E.g. Did he have designs of NYY, or was he just ridiculously misunderstood? Who knows! We’re never told. Even if we were told, we should doubt it because it’s SQQ telling us.

2) 4D characterisation

Schnee’s video goes into this in more details, but this is where you build two narratives on top of one another. Best example is Jin Guangyao from MDZS. Is he an underdog who did what he could out of his situation and tried his best to be a better person working for the good of the common people? Or is he a selfish, manipulative, ambitious snake who at every stage pretends to be good in order to win the favour of those around him? The point is that both narratives make sense in the story. There are moments that lean more one way or another, but you can never quite pin him down completely.

3) Moments of weakness

Best example is Xie Lian from TGCF. On the whole, XL is a wonderful human being who you 100% want to root for. Except… there was that one time he made a mistake. He let his hurt and pain overcome him; he became hurtful himself. The point here is to add in just a few ‘moments’ which fundamentally impacts how the rest of the world perceives them from that point forwards. They are forever trying to redeem themselves, forever weighed down by what is a tiny proportion of their life. The underlying question is ‘is a moment of weakness a moral failure?’

Another good example is Qi Rong from TGCF. On the whole, he’s a piece of s***. But then there are moments when he’s a genuinely good father to Guzi, and that’s confusing.

4) Well-intentioned idiot

Trying to do the right thing and absolutely failing. Best example is Wei Wuxian from MDZS. His intentions are always good. There are extremely few moments where he is selfish or overly cruel. He is always fighting for justice, always self-sacrificing, always kind. And yet the outcome of his actions is pretty bad. The underlying question is ‘should you judge a person based on their intent, or on the consequences of their actions?’

(btw the name of the method is from schnee’s video. No shade on WWX. He is very smart… well, unless it comes to LWJ’s feelings.)

5) Excuses

Yes, they’re bad. But we feel sorry for them! Almost everyone fits into this boat, because doesn’t MXTX love trauma dumping? As one example, let’s look at Jiang Cheng from MDZS. JC’s behaviour towards WWX is pretty bad on its own. But given the context of his childhood being compared to him, of having his self-esteem brutally crushed by both parents? Knowing how much he’s done and sacrificed for him, how much he truly cared for him as family? It hits different.

A small point: ‘excuses aren’t enough’ we say a lot (and I agree, to an extent). But compare, for example, Jin Guangshan vs Xue Yang. JGS seems to be a power-hungry asshole for absolutely no reason. On the other hand, put XY in different circumstances and we feel like he might have been a better person. Just as food for thought, there was a Japanese monk Honen (1133-1212) who said: ‘The good person can reach the Pure Land, so of course the evil person can as well’. The point being that the people who struggle with anger and hate because of their circumstances are most in need of salvation.

6) World building and presenting hard questions

What is acceptable sacrifice in war?

Is it okay to make a super dangerous weapon for the sake of deterrence?

How much personal responsibility does someone hold for a lifetime of circumstances pushing them towards a morally questionable path?

What are the responsibilities of a leader – to do what is right, or to do what is best for their people?

The world of MDZS is imperfect. It’s full of horrors and disasters, as well as a mob of outsiders all trying to impart their opinions despite knowing little about the situation. An imperfect world presents unanswerable questions. We see the characters struggle with these questions, come to decisions, and make mistakes, all naturally arising within the complex world that’s been presented.

TGCF does this most explicitly. We literally have Kemo and Pei Xiu arguing about the ethics of war and XL concluding that it’s a Hard Question. In fact, every backstory of every Heavenly Official presents a new Hard Question. I don’t know if I like this method over the more subtle style of MDZS, but I have Thoughts about the storytelling styles of both (long story short, I love them both for different reasons).

7) Worlds are colliding

A slightly complicated method that takes a huge amount of set up. To summarise, set up two arcs that we the reader both feel invested in. Then set up a point where the ‘good’ outcome of one is the ‘bad’ outcome of another. For MDZS, we have 1) JC and WWX’s brotherhood arc. 2) WWX standing up for justice arc. They’re both merrily developing all the way through the conflict with the Wens… right until the moment WWX has to make a choice: stand up for justice and leave JC behind, or to fulfil his promises to JC and turn a blind eye to the injustices against the Wens. The decision is a lose-lose scenario because of the way these arcs have been set up.

8) Spectrums, Spectrums, we love Spectrums

Gongyi Xiao is a cinnamon roll. As is Wen Ning and Quan Yizhen. Meanwhile, the Old Palace Master? Literally no redeeming qualities. Wen Chao? Absolute scum. Then there’s everyone lying somewhere in between. We like Lan Wangji more than JC (I think that seems to be the case for most people?) but we certainly like JC more than JGS. Having a spectrum of morality is important because it gives us reference points to contrast and compare. It also emphasises the moral greyness of everything, because sure, Mu Qing isn’t a noodle like Shi Qingxuan, but is he worse than White No Face?

9) Spectrums aren’t enough – adding depth

Almost all of WWX’s moral ambiguity comes from the fact he has hard decisions to make. And for each of these decisions, the outcome is murky. He developed a new technique to fight against the Wens, but at what cost later down the line? He defended the Wens and gave them a few years of life, but was it worth it?

Compare with JGY. JGY does a lot of good. He also does a lot of bad. The magnitude of both lists is ridiculous. Sure, you wouldn’t usually find someone who’s killed most of their family members in any way likable, but how often do you come across someone who literally ended a war?

So one way of creating moral ambiguity is to make each decision difficult, but another way to go about it is to just… make them do loads of things. Like loads of things. Good things, bad things, all the in between things. Judging each thing is not that hard, but then trying to judge the overall person based on it is extremely difficult.

10) Pulling from the real world

Often, moral questions in fiction is hard because (surprise, surprise) moral questions are just hard full stop. Idk enough Chinese history and culture to accurately pin down all of MXTX’s references, but things like stupid misunderstands leading to conflict, poverty and inequality, less than ideal family situations, the horrors of war… these are all things that happen irl. No matter how fantastical the setting, grounding moral conflicts in reality makes us feel more emotional and invested.

Anyway, I hope that was an enjoyable rundown! This is an imperfect list, so comments, criticisms, suggestions greatly appreciated!

#i cannot get over how good mdzs is #a moment of appreciation here #mxtx #mxtx meta #svsss #mdzs #tgcf #svsss meta #mdzs meta #tgcf meta

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prettymrswright · 5 months

Text

drake & drive

tank full of gas

fill up my cup

see, where could i function?

can i pull up?

i need a buddy

it don’t hit home

‘til i’m alone, now

you know wassup, drake’n & driving..

pairing: riri williams x black!fem reader

content: angst under-tones, smut-leaning (18+),slightly toxic!riri, substance use (weed & liqs people, no hard drugs), flashbacks, intoxicated confessions, emotional conversations, riri is a lover-girl indenial, reader can make ri jump through a cheerio with little to no effort.

background: riri tugs with her feelings after the dragged out will-they-won't-they troupe going on between you two. her trust issues won't allow her to fully commit, but now she's wondering if she'll be regretting that decision.

a/n: my first ri fic, this is my baby! speaking of, shout out to my baby @dejaonline for the collaborative efforts on the picture as well as her input on the plot. this was made with her in mind, fully inspired by her (she's a riri girl🤭) and this song that has crack ROCK in it. i hope you guys luvvv, and as usual, i gotta remind y'all;

taglist is pinned to my page! if you want to be tagged for someone specific OR if you wanna opt out of any tags, gone fill out that form for me. taglist: @dejaonline @inmyheadimobsessed @kisskourt @ventingfanfics @saintwrld @vampzxi @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @sapphicvqmpires @verachii @shuriszn @shurislover "aight, nigga, you gone be upset when i take your money again," ri laughed, taunting her bestfriend, key. "yeah, yeah just put up, mf." key takes out his cash and begins counting it. every year at the fair, the two of them would place a bet on who would win at balloon darts, a tradition stemming from a conversation on who has better 'aim'. they walk up to the post and place their tickets down. "yo my man, set us up real quick," ri called out to the older gentlemen behind the counter. he turned around, eyes meeting with the two, and laughed aloud dropping his head. "you two, again. y'all are something else," he says, still smiling, setting down two pairs of 6 darts for them each. "this is for my redemption, unc, this is personal," key says, picking up a dart and practicing his form. "i won't be losing again." "yea, we'll see about that." ri laughs. "you know the drill," key starts. "most balloons in 5 rounds wins. price goes up by 5, we at 20 bills this year." ri picks up a dart and tosses it straight through the middle, popping her first balloon. "yo!" key exclaims. "you on some cheating shit, we ain't even count down!" "you talking too much, nigga," ri shrugs him off, making the attendant laugh once again. the two of them went head to head, leading up to them being neck to neck in the final round. going back and forth through both hits and misses, key set off his final dart, popping a bright blue balloon right at the top, ultimately beating ri. "let's fucking go!" key yelled out, doing his lil victory dance. ri stood with a strong, angsty pout rested on her face, as the sore loser she was. "whatever, nigga," ri rolled her eyes and slapped the andrew jackson faced bill in key's hand. key takes his prize and extends it out to ri, mocking her pouting. "you can have this bear!" she smacks his hand away from in front of her, almost making him drop it, causing him to burst into laughter. .. the two of them walked around the park, snacks in hand, taking a break from their previous festivities. after hearing/feeling a ping, key takes his phone out his jean pocket and opens the text.

“come on,” key motions ri.

“where we going?” asks a puzzled riri.

“over by the ring toss,” he points. “i got a good friend of mine i want you to meet.”

“ughhh,” ri heavily groans. “your social, friendly ass. why we always gotta be around people, why can’t we just kick it, just us two?”

“i know, i know, my bad, ri,” key says throwing his hands up. “but i promised her i would link her once we were in the same area, and it so happens that was this. it won’t be for long.”

“man, whatever,” an aggravated riri puffs out. “just don’t expect me to be miss congeniality or no shit.”

“you a trip, ri,” key lets out a hearty laugh. “be nice, please.”

the two made their way over, meeting with two girls, one brownskin, sitting at about 5’5, one darkskin at 5’3.

“wassup, key!” you smiled warmly, embracing your old childhood friend.

“it’s been a long time,” key smiles back.

“yes it has,” the girl beside you intercepts. it was your best friend val. she went to school with the two of you as well, and has a had a crush on key since then.

“oh, shit, val!” key basically runs over to hug her. “damn, girl, where you been!”

she giggles at his excitement. “i’ve been around! back and forth from study-abroad in italy.”

“okay, i see you, you on your shit! that’s wassup,” he daps her up.

“thank you.” she smiles, the two of them allowing their hands to linger in holding position.

feeling the tension building, you clear your throat, not being able to conceal the smile that was creeping up. the two finally pull apart and pretend to straighten themselves out. your eyes shift their attention from key and val and found themselves attached to a small girl with braids, standing to the left of key and directly across from you.

“oh, shit, my bad,” he apologizes and places his hand on the girl’s back. “this is my best friend, ri. ri this is val and y/n.”

she didn’t seem very interested. her eyes were glued to her phone in her hand, and her body language was very stand off-ish.

“hey, wassup.” she says without looking up. that was very rude of her. key didn’t roll with rude people. to give her the benefit of the doubt, you just summed it up to possible shyness.

key aggressively taps her back, forcing her to look up, a stern look on his face.

ri finally looked up and could feel her entire body freeze in place in the middle of the 95 degree weather. you were the most beautiful person the young engineer had ever laid her eyes on. your glowy, rich, melanated skin, your mocha brown eyes, the long, thick lash follicles that decorated them. your thick, curly hair that surrounded your skull in but a very small fro. it was as if you came straight out of a magazine, 90s edition. you being taller than her didn't help the fact that she felt as though she was looking up at a goddess. "hi," you gave a nervous laugh, in attempts to mask the awkwardness of the situation. your smile. so big and so warm. could light up an entire room. your lips, the perfect shape. they even had a brown tint around the circumference of them, naturally being lined. everything about you was mesmerizing to ri. if she stared any harder or any longer, she probably could count each follicle of hair rested on top of your head. "hi-i, um.. my bad, I'm--" ri frantically began looking for the words to appease the awkwardness, and stumbled on almost all of 'em. "ri. right? key just said it," you help her out, quietly giggling to yourself. not the strongest start. but she was cute. "right. and um--" she begins, and you already know she's getting ready to ask you to announce your name.. again. "Y/N. you aren't the best listener, are you?" you taunt her, a smile on your face. "oh-- nah, my bad, i just.. got a lot on my mind, today, that's all." ri lies, wiping the sweat forming on the back of her neck off with her palm. "right," you laughed, somewhat condescendingly. you turned your attention back to key. "y'all got plans for the rest of the night?" "yes," ri rushed out. "nah," key answered simultaneously, both of the friends' responses mending over each other. key shot ri a look before continuing his sentence. "we just freeballing, doing shit as we go."

ri was irritated. she wanted to spend time w her boy, and not only is their one on one time being interrupted, here was this pretty, saddity chick getting smart at the mouth. making her look somewhat of a fool. not knowing, the young prodigy could do that all on her own. she'd be lying however, if she said she wasn't intrigued. "have you guys gotten on the ferris yet? i gotta get some good selfies at the top. you know, influencer shit," val says, comedically. "nah we haven't, we could head over now before the line gets long," key suggests. "sounds good. don't worry, ri, after this, we'll be out your hair." you flashed her a quick smirk, letting her know you were aware of her irritation. and out of her hair, you weren't. you were in her hair. in her brain. in her life. in her room. in her bed. she couldn't escape you. but this time, she didn't even want to.

the follow months after your initial meeting, the two of you had quickly became inseparable. it started out with exchanges of memes, followed by texting all day, then tying up the phone, falling asleep on facetime. eventually those things led to dates, and sleepovers..and hookups. the two of you were enjoying yourselves, no doubt. it was as especially hard for ri, however. ri didn't do the relationship thing. she did it once, got her heartbroken, decided that wouldn't happen again. and it didn't. miss love 'em, and leave 'em she was. but you. you made her think. you made her learn and explore parts of herself she didn't even know existed. you made her feel important. powerful, even. naturally, she didn't know what to do with that influx of new feelings and information. so she did what any confused and slightly scared person would do; run. it was hot and cold with riana williams. one day, she made you feel loved and on top of the world. other days, she made you feel like you killed her cat. and you'd think the mixed signals would be enough for you to do way with it altogether. but when riri loved on you, it felt as if there wasn't anything you could not do. it was very clear and obvious that the two of you brought the absolutely best out of each other. you complimented each other so well, in every way. same interests, same ambitions. you even mimicked each other's mannerisms. when it was good, it was so good. but the more serious it got, the more at stake your feelings were.

she would constantly remind you. how much she would not, could not, be in a relationship. how much she didn't see the point. how much of a waste of it time it was. besides, she couldn't have no love shit fucking up her focus. what was understood, didn't need to be explained. and if she didn't remind you with her words, she sure as hell reminded you with her actions. until one day, you were pushed past your limits.

a half-asleep, sluggish riri, lugged her body to the door after hearing a 4th round of hard knocks ricocheting off of her door.

“who the fuck is bangin’ down my shit,” she cussed to herself.

“i’m comin’, damn!”

she swung the door open to be met with a drenched from rain, and very angry you.

“what the fuck, riri.” you semi-yell.

“woah. what happened to you?” she genuinely asked, moving over to let you inside.

“what happened to me?” you scoff, with shock at her audacity. “you were supposed to pick me up over an hour and a half ago, ri.”

“oh, shit.” ri’s face dropped at her realization. she was supposed to pick you up from school, as she promised. all public transportation was delayed, and it was entirely too pricey to uber. “my bad.”

this is the 3rd time she forgot.

“your bad? it’s horrible outside ri. you weren’t even a little concerned about my whereabouts?”

“I said my bad, y/n, damn, what you want, a love letter?” ri spat at you.

“I can’t believe you.” you laughed to yourself, almost fully in disbelief of what was going on right at that moment.

“it’s common fucking courtesy, to come to your girl’s aid when in need, but your promise? which I didn’t ask for by the way, then made it a responsibility. and you failed to show or do either.”

“man, whatever. you got here all on your own just fine, ain’t it? what, your side nigga came and got you, hm?”

“you are un-fucking believable. naturally this is my fault. you know what I am sick and tired of your shit, you must think I’m some sort of d—“

you were interrupted by a voice following behind riri, accompanied by footsteps.

“ri, who’s at the door? come back to bed.”

immediately your entire body froze in place and your eyes began to well up on command, against your will. everything went still. the silence that filled the room could be sliced with a razor. your eyes met with the girl standing behind riri, her tall, slim, athletic build wrapped around in a silk robe. then shifted to a guilty riri, staring at the floor in shame. "fuck." she let out a guilty whisper. so this is what she had been doing. why you had been left out in the cold rain, damn near across town. fucking other girls, occupying her time with things that were clearly more important than you. "i-is, this your gi-" "nah, she not." ri says rather quickly, not even letting whoever this girl was finish her question. your bloodshot-red eyes darted to the young engineer with a piercing glance. she gave you back a shrugged off look, seemingly in attempt to double down on her answer, just this time with way less confidence. once processed what she'd done, guilt sprung onto her again. you turned around to head bolt out the door. "y/n--" ri attempted to stop you, to say god knows what. the pain you felt was venomous. you just needed to get out of there. "fuck you, riana." your harsh and emphasized words slicing through her one syllable at a time. you left and never turned back. as hurt as you were, you refused to put yourself back through the emotional turmoil again. you were aware the two of you weren't in a relationship, and be that as it may, if that were the case, boundaries should have been set on what you two should and should have not been doing. and being that they weren't, you and your feelings got wrapped in all of ri's sweet words, and dramatic love professions and believed that maybe her mind would change. you'd been hurt before by her, but never like this. you'd never dream she'd go as far as this. ri's guilt and regret was eating her alive, bit by bit, piece by piece. she loved you. she knew it, you knew it. however, her self-sabotaging ways would not allow her to flourish in love, or damn near anywhere else. she called and called, and texted and texted till her phone glitched out. she sent letters to your house. once you blocked her, she texted and called from other numbers. she even popped up at your house on a couple occasions to no success. she looked crazy, hell, she FELT crazy. after awhile, she decided it'd be best to leave you alone, give you your space.

i mean, maybe this just proved it. how unworthy she was of love, of you. so she did what she knew best. she slept around, girls in and out her house. she sold promises and dreams. she did any and everything to distract herself from the fact that she is downright, indubitably, outrageously, in love with you. and no matter how or how much she tried to fill that y/n shaped void, it would never suffice. months would go by, and all her shenanigans would come to a cease. no matter what she did, or where she would go, she would think of you. everything reminded her of you. every song, every show. as much as she had fucked this one over, she so badly wished to just see you once more. at least to apologize properly. ri wasn't the type to vent or be vulnerable, but if it was anybody she would do for, it was you, and key. key wouldn't hear the end of it. but he would never fail to let her know how bad she messed that one up. key was supportive always, but he would always hold you accountable for your shit. you'd been away on a study-abroad trip in germany, growing, flourishing, in more ways than one. you weren't really tripping about love. you'd been seeing people here and there, but it really wasn't your focus. this past weekend would be your last weekend, and you'd be heading back home to your city. ri and key were chilling in her living room the day of your return, having a regular weekend kickback, talking shit, shooting dice, you know, regular best friend shit. "how many times i'mma tell you, you can't beat me in no strategic shit, no day," key says laughing, picking the money they had both put up from off the ground. "man, whatever, you just got lucky," she playfully nudges key's shoulder. ri takes out her phone, and opens her instagram, going through some stories, when she gets to val's story. when she clicks the pink/orange ombré circle, she sees a boomerang of you, throwing your hands up, jumping next to your suitcase, right in front of the airport, with the caption, 'my best friend's back in town!!! mimosas on me :)'. it had been posted 4 hours ago, so you had been back for a little time. she wondered if she should mention it. just in the case that key knew anything. "so um.." she started. " i hear y/n's back in town from her trip.." "aw man, don't start that shit, leave that girl alone" key says shaking his head. ri immediately sucks her teeth, in annoyance, as if she wasn't trying to pry. "nigga, what you mean, I can't make a statement? I just said I hear she was back, not I was gone go hunt her down, damn." defensive she was. cuz it didn't all the way sound like a bad idea. "yeah..aight," key semi-chuckled at the defensive girl. "yea i think she just got back this morning."

"from a school trip, or some shit, right? that's wassup." ri plainly expresses her pride for you.

she looks back down at the post being held captive by her thumb, just examining you. you were glowing. your skin was radiant, hair growing, shape filling out; you truly looked— happy.

riri didn’t wanna get in the way of that. she just.. wanted to be another reason that you were happy— for real this time.

“fuck it,” ri thought to herself, deciding that she would finally reach out. on some calm shit though, you know. if she got rejected, she got rejected, at least she tried.

looking at the time it was 9 almost 10 o’clock, and she decided that if she was gonna make any type of move, it would have to be right now and while she was by her lonesome.

“ahhh,” ri stood up, fake yawning into a fake stretch. “aight my nigga, i’mma head out. i’m super tired, I’mma make it a early night.”

“naaa, already? you whack! what happened, can’t hang no more?” key teased, initially not realizing why it was she really was eager to leave.

“it’s not even like that,” the small girl started. “i just got stuff to do, that’s all.” she got up and gathered her things before semi-rushing out the door.

“mhm. leave her alone, ri!” key says mid chuckle. he could always figure her out.

“bye!” ri slammed the door shut and rushed down the steps and over and into to her black 2022 kia sedan.

she takes a deep breath and huffs out an exhausted sigh, juggling the thoughts of you through her mind. she unlocks her phone and goes to your contact, examining the details with her warm cocoa brown eyes, the same name and picture there from when you were ‘hers’.

after going back and forth for 20 minutes she finally presses the ‘imessage button’ and goes to text you.

5, 10 minutes go by and she’s a nervous wreck. ‘fuck,” she thought to herself. “i should’ve listened to key, i should’ve just left her alone.’

she goes to delete her message and the thread until she saw your text bubble pop up.

you, 1 not having her blocked, and 2 responding in the first place was a green enough flag for her. she decided she needed to see you. she had to see you. all this courage being built up by her own delusion needed to be acted on immediately, without a second wasted, or else it would continue eating at her.

‘can i pull up on you?,” she sent. before you could even respond, she came anyway, and parked a few houses down.

as she awaited your response, she reached in the back seat, bringing in front the black plastic bag with a bottle of don julio, a carton of lemonade, and two ice cups she had previously bought that afternoon for her and key.

her nerves were certainly jumpy, so she decided she would sip a lil something, just to take the edge off. she poured the liquid courage and the citrusy chaser into her ice cup, and sipped directly from the rim, neverminding the straw that was placed in the bag.

remembering the j she rolled that afternoon also, she takes it out her pre-roll case rested in her cup holder and lights it ablaze. after blowing out the potent flame, she lifts it to her aquaphor’d lips, cl and welcomes the wavelength of smoke through her mouth/nose and into her bloodstream, french inhaling with shut lids.

no matter how badly she wanted to see you and talk to you, she wasn’t confident in having too sober of a conversation, in fear of her thoughts consuming her and her fucking this up once again.

she felt all her muscles and joints slowly relax into each other, the smoke parading through her system. involuntarily, it was beginning to arouse her as well, but those feelings would have to take a backseat on this one. she wasn’t on that, tonight. I mean shit, if you was, but her main focus was getting her lady back. at least the best friend portion of you.

after her 4th pull, her phone buzzes in her lap, and she almosts drops the blunt trying to get to it.

you lived about 10 to 12 minutes away from her, so that’s roughly how long she lingered down your block, trying not to look so desperate, but fuck it— she was.

desperate to hear your voice again, to smell your warm vanilla and musk scent, to hear your laugh, to hear you call her, ‘riana.’ in that stern, warning voice.

‘i’m out front.’ she sent her final text before she would see you for the first time in months.

ri began to get even more jittery, her hands and the back of her neck producing sweat quicker than normal, awaiting your arrival. she couldn’t tell if it was her nerves surrounding the situation, her being cross-faded, or both.

after what felt like forever, there you were. even more beautiful than remembered. she watched intently as your toned figured came walking down your brownstone, and forward to her car.

your now grown out, awkward length hair, tucked away into knotless braids fell down to the small of your back. a light grey short-sleeved cropped tee, lettered ‘brat’ in black letters, decorated your torso, black cotton shorts hugging your hips. your feet placed in white socks and dark grey yeezy slides.

you approached the vehicle, more at ease being that she had illegally dark tints on her windows, preventing you from seeing her see you.

you opened the door, and as soon as you entered, all the memories came floating back instantly. the lights on the roof, the smell of weed and baccarat rouge mixed together, her hand rested on her lap, thumb and ring finger through silver ring bands. her seat laid all the way back. her looking at you like— that.

“hello, riana,” you say plainly, in a joking way.

“hello, y/n,” she replied, smirking inbetween the sentence.”

it’s silent for a second, before you decide you didn’t want this to be awkward, no matter how you felt previously. you made the conscious decision to fill up the air.

“so,” you began. “i’ve been summoned. what’s going on?”

“well don’t say it like that,” she replied. “I just wanted to check in, make sure you was ‘aight.”

“oh please, riana williams, check in?” she laughed in disbelief. “checking in tonight of all nights? it’s been months.”

“i mean shit, iono what you got going on,” she began, slowly leaning into what she knows best. mess. “you probably been up under some nigga or some, why would i interfere in that?”

“okay,” and that was your cue. immediately you get irritated and reach for the door, preventing this from going any further down the sinkhole.

“okay, okay, wait, wait,” she tugged on your arm restricting you from moving.

“no, riana, it’s always the same shit with you. this is what you called me outside for?” you spat.

“no! no, i’m sorry, I— i’m just,” she breathed for a second, trying to get herself and her words together. “I’m working on it. I’m a work in progress.”

you scoffed and folded your arms, leaning back in your seat. “yeah, okay.”

“i’m serious, y/n/n,” she called your nickname given by her. one you haven’t heard in so long, yet the sound of it was so familiar and so sweet on your ears.

“I did, and said a lot of fucked up shit to you, when we were together, I can admit that,” her intoxication began to aid the word flow out of her brain and through her vocal cords.

“together? i was never your girl. remember? those were your words.” you shut down her insinuation.

“and that was another mistake I made, if not the biggest. i should’ve made you a priority and stayed consistent, I’m sorry, y/n/n. you deserved way more than I gave you,” her confessions began to roll out slowly but surely.

hearing her words and the sincerity in them made your eyes fill up with tears, playing tug of war with your need to stay tough and the need for release. to take that weight off your chest.

immediately she senses the tension around you and places her hand on your thigh and grips firmly.

“well, why’d you take so long!” the jig is up. the pain is all throughout your voice, tears beginning to flow out. “why’d you take so fucking long to realize that, riana?”

“y/n—“ she begins, fighting her own tears herself.

“i loved you. i love you, I’d give my last to you, you made me look like a fool and I STILL chose you. you’d make me feel like I was on top of the world and the next minute you’d rip the ground right from underneath me. and crashing down I came. still wanting you. still needing you.” you express, each word lifting a brick off of your chest.

“i don’t know, okay!” ri blurted out, choking on her words. “i’m fucked up, i’ve been fucked up for a long time. i could never keep or maintain a good thing in my life because i’d be waiting for it to end or for it to be thrown in my face. i’d want one thing in my mind and something totally different comes out my mouth. but it’s you, it’s always been you,” you stared through her bloodshot red eyes, finally receiving the truth and holding onto every word.

“you lit a fire under my ass, you forced me to look at myself. no one has ever done that to me—FOR me before. you make me crazy. you make me want to be a better person. you make me want to destroy ever person even SLIGHTLY responsible for causing you pain, including myself,” her face was glistening, wet tears reflecting off the brake lights of the car parked in front of her. she didn’t give a fuck how she looked anymore.

“i spent every night since we parted ways replaying all the things i’ve done to cause our separation over and over and over, drowning in my reality. I’d take it all back, good and bad, just to see you smile at me the first time you ever did. there was so much love in your eyes. and i watched it wither away, piece by piece. And i’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

you reached over and held her by the sides of her face, wiping her tears with your thumbs and gently kissing her lips. the sensation of your soft, warm lips made her cry even harder. the first time she felt that hug in months. nobody felt like you.

you hopped over into her seat and straddled her, not breaking the kiss. her hands roamed down your sides and over your ass as she pulled you closer to her. if she was dreaming, she’d be taking advantage of every moment.

you began to slightly move your hips along her leg, whining in her mouth, her mimicking your sounds in equal bliss and pain.

she wrapped her hand around the end of your braids and tugged slightly, exposing your neck and leaving soft, french kisses all along the middle.

“riana,” you breathed out.

“baby, please,” she pleaded. “let me fix it.”

you wanted to let her tear you apart. destroy your clothes and do away with them. you wanted to take out all your hate and love for her out on her body. you wanted to go right back to the every day you knew it as.

but you knew better. you learned better. y/n today is not the same y/n from months ago.

“i love you, riana.” you confessed aloud and hopped back into the passenger side.

“but I can’t let you back in. not this way. not right now.” you set your boundary, no matter how much it hurt. and decided it was time to go. you had overstayed your stay.

head down, eyes low, she just woefully nodded. she understood and she had to respect it. she made her bed, it was time to lay in it. but she would never give up.

“hey,” you bent down in her vision after stepping out the car. “we’ll see each other again. under better circumstances. bye, ri.”

you closed the door and headed back to your apartment, shedding more and more silent tears.

ri layed in the driver side seat in agony. counting down the days until that day. the last thing she wanted to say to you playing over and over in her head.

“i love you too, y/n. so fucking much.”

#Spotify #riri williams #riri x reader #dominique thorne #black sapphic #riri fic #prettymrswright hot ficpic #riri x you

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Dare to Surrender (Series) Part 3

Pairing: Javier Pena x f!reader [no name/ physical description/no use of y/n]

Words: 5.5

A/N: This is porn with a dash of plot because my other story is angsty and stressin’ too many people out and I love me a good enemies to lovers story.

After your bet with Peña you're determined to move on from the experience, especially when a handsome new Agent shows interest. Javier doesn't agree.

(Check the pinned post in profile for all my story masterlist!)

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

You cannot stand Javier Peña.

Not because he goes rogue at every opportunity.

Not just because he lets his cigarettes fill the office with plumes of acrid smoke.

It's because does all of those things in a delicious, distracting package. Jeans that don't need to be that tight, shirts that don't need to be unbuttoned that low, a jaw of fucking granite, a mouth of full-lipped sin.

It's also because now that you've fucked him, you want to do it again. You want to experience it but without the edge of desperation, the unwillingness to surrender.

And the worst part of all? He knows it.

He must. Why else does he keep finding reasons to brush up against you, claiming he needs to grab the files behind you? Why else does he now bring over a coffee for you in the mornings, his finger circling the rim suggestively as he smirks?

You try to ignore it and revel in the spoils of your victory instead, because your paperwork is completed and placed on your desk each morning. It greets you the first day after Javier's loss. It's decently done, and you rarely have to make corrections.

But it's not really fair is it?

Sometimes when you leave work for the day and Javier is still typing away there are times when you feel guilty. He's there working extra because he's doing part of your job because he thinks that you won the bet you’d made together.

You didn't really win.

But before the guilt consumes you, it always ceases because Javier is getting bolder. His teasing has now moved from small winks or fingers on coffee cups to dropping comments during work in front of Murphy to start.

You are at your desk, leaning over the English newspaper articles about Escobar that you've been tasked with. Its daunting, unrelenting and un-fun work made even less fun when one of your co-workers has taken to making small walks around the office every hour, as if he’s trying to entice you to watch his body.

But now you’re focused and about to highlight a specific piece of intel about Escobar’s latest visit to the stripper. You don't even see Peña, you hear him, his husky voice above you.

"Hard at work?"

"Yeah, it must look unfamiliar to you," you toss out, rolling your eyes up at him. You still when you see the glint in Javier's.

"Hmm," Javier says suddenly affecting an over the top look of confusion."Your desk seems a bit wobbly, osita. Should probably have maintenance come look at it."

He didn’t just say that. He didn’t just reference railing you here at your desk the other night. He wouldn’t do that.

Gonna fuck you right, osita. So every time you sit at this desk you remember how good my cock felt filling you up.

Arousal is already starting to pool between your legs. You clear your throat.

Murphy's light eyes flick up to see you grimace before he turns back to the paper on his desk.

"Its fine," you finally reply with pinking cheeks. "I don't even notice it."

"No?" Javier asks lightly. And now he's tilting his pelvis against the edge, pressing into it and pushing. It creaks against him and all you can hear is the sound it made under you as he fucked you against it last week.

He does it again, slowly, watching as your eyes fix themselves on his rolling hips. "You don't hear that?"

You glance up, prepared to say something cutting but the sight of Javier smirking down at you as he does this immediately makes your mouth go dry. All you can think of is that night, Peña slamming into you from behind as his low voice made filthy promises.

You’re gonna get wet right there in the middle of work. But don't worry. You come get me when you do and I'll make you feel good all over again.

You force yourself to swallow.

"Nope," you finally manage, your eyes going back to the file in your hand. "It's fine, Peña."

He does this through the entire week. Little comments peppered into conversation. Innocuous touches along your lower back as he moves past you. It comes to a head during a meeting with Murphy and Carillo in the latter's office.

You've been discussing the latest interception at the strip club Escobar men usually frequent. Carillo brings out a large photo, one you'll place on the evidence board later.

"New lead," Carillo says, showing Murphy before sliding the photo towards you and Peña across the desk. Your heads almost touch as you both look at the photo.

It's one of the dancers, obvious by her beautiful body and skimpy clothes. She's smiling widely, her eyes hidden by sunglasses and she waves at whomever is taking the photograph.

Javier's type, you think.

"One of Escobar new women," Carillo explains. "Luciana Felipe."

"Oritz thinks he can secure a meeting for us," Carillo offers with a thoughtful look. "We'll see."

"Hope it works out," Murphy says nodding. "Hope she cooperates."

"She draws a lot of eyes her way," Javier observes frowning. "Most of Escobar's women are more subdued in the public eye. This one seems to be welcoming the attention."

The other two men seem to consider this as you stare at the photo. You lean forward on the desk as you glance at some of the other photos Carillo is sliding your way.

"Would be quite the lead though," Javier murmurs beside you as you take in the photos. "She's a very pretty girl."

The dragging rasp of his voice and those words hit you directly in your core and the reaction is as immediate as it is acute. Your head drops forward as a sharp whimper escapes you. An honest to God whimper.

Carillo looks over you, brow arched.

"You okay?"

"Yep. Fine," you assure Castillo, shooting Peña a glare when the other men have their attention back on the files.

Peña winks at you. Actually fucking winks. And suddenly you're furious. This is your job, something you take pride in. And he's acting like it's all a big joke.

You pull yourself together for the rest of the meeting, sure to stay away from Javier the best you can. The minute you can you’ve gathered your notes and shoved them into the manila folder at your left. On staggering heels you head down to the canteen for lunch.

Javier, obviously oblivious to the way you're ignoring him, follows close behind.

///

He's not oblivious. He knows you're upset and he knows why. He loves the reason that has you coming undone

He just knows you're wet.

He guarantees it after seeing your reaction to that comment in the office. With Carrillo. The way you'd pitched forward, arching. Those two little words: pretty girl.

It almost makes him feel drunk, the power those words on his tongue hold.

He stands behind you in the lineup of agents and workers waiting to get food, but Javier's not hungry for anything other than your continued company.

"Hmm, what looks good," he says anyway, his eyes not leaving the back of your head. "What do I want to sink my teeth into today?"

He sees your shoulders jump to your ears. He can almost see steam coming out of your ears before you're spinning to face him, your voice angry yet soft.

"This wasn't part of it, Peña."

"What wasn't?" Javier asks, the picture of innocence with wide brown eyes that slide along your face.

"Relentlessly teasing me about what we did," you insist in a furious whisper. "That's not fair."

"A lot about that night wasn't fair," Javier challenges, though there's no bite in his tone. He seems endlessly amused by your ire. "No kissing, no tasti-"

"Stop it," you interrupt, knowing where he's going with this. You glance around anxious that you're being overheard. The canteen is packed with agents, secretaries and other office personnel. The last thing you need is for the entire embassy to know Javier screwed you.

"You make up rules, so do I," Javier whispers back. "And my new rule is that I get to remind you about that night whenever I want to."

He lights a cigarette as you spin around with a huff to decide on what to have for your lunch. You studiously ignore him now, obviously irritated with how this entire thing has gotten out of control.

But that's what he likes most. Seeing you out of control.

"I'm free tonight, osita," Javier murmurs. “In case you were curious.”

A curl of smoke drifts between you when you twist to glare at him over your shoulder. Javier feels his body respond to this. The sight of you arching over your shoulder to look at him. All that's missing is the half-lidded look and that delicious way you'd whimpered "I need it faster, please baby" to him.

He's never going to forget that. For as long as he lives Javier is never going to forget you twisting to look at him over your shoulder on the desk, mouth wet and cheeks flushed and begging for him to fill you as he fucked you.

It's a stark contrast to the look of disgust on your features now. Javier cocks a brow at you, his dark eyes glittering merrily.

"You're free?" You sneer. "And I'm supposed to care?"

Javier cocks a brow at you, his dark eyes glittering merrily.

"The way your pussy took me last time I just assumed you'd be willing to try another round." Peña peers into your face. "Since we tied."

///

"We d-did not tie," you sputter.

You feel powerless when he tilts his head forward, his endless eyes capturing yours before his mouth grazes your temple.

"You think I didn't feel it?" Javier murmurs at your ear. "Think I didn't feel you tighten around my cock?"

Shit. He knew.

He knew and yet he's still been doing your paperwork for the last two and a half weeks. You're perplexed by this. You pull back from him, suddenly aware of the secretary nearby who is staring at you over her chicken salad.

"You don't know anything," you say with a tight sigh. "And I have actual work to do tonight so why don't you go pick up one of your girls from the brothel and call it overtime like you usually do?"

He's tilted his head back so he can look down at you from half lidded eyes. You can't tell if he's amused or irritated.

"You'd be fine with that," Javier reasons, his jaw tight. The cigarette hangs loosely over his lower lip now.

"Of course," you reply with a sneer as you grab one of the sandwiches from the shelf. "Why would I care who you sleep with?"

Javier looks like he's about to say something more when you both hear your name being called from behind you. You turn to see Williams approach, a handsome smile over his face. Your heart kicks to a start as he nears.

"Agent Williams," you say shrilly before catching yourself, affecting a more neutral tone before you try again. "Hi."

Javier watches as you get flustered, his brows knitting together. His dark eyes travel from your bright eyes over to the tall blonde sauntering over.

"I was just wondering today when I'd see you again," Williams says with a broad smile. "And here you are."

"Here I am," you offer awkwardly. "Must be fate."

"So do I get to know your name?" Williams murmurs with a teasingly glint in his eyes as he comes to stand closer to you, his voice dropping. "Or is that top secret as well?"

You giggle, unable to stop yourself as you recall your first meeting with him.

"We call her Osita."

Williams' light eyes travel over your shoulder to see your companion smirking at the back of your head. You shoot daggers at Javier for bringing up the asinine nickname.

"Bradley Williams," he says extending his hand towards Javier. You remember yourself, twisting so you can face both men.

"This is uh.... Uh..." You say flustered by the conversation you'd just been having with Peña and the sudden appearance of Williams setting you off kilter.

"Peña," Javier says sharply before going to shake Williams hand. "Javier Peña."

"The one with the brothels," you add without thinking. Williams raises his eyebrows in surprise and a quick glance to your right highlights Peña shooting daggers at you.

"The Escobar case," Bradley suggests, saving you from further embarrassment.

"Yeah," Javier nods, glancing at the man's clearance badge. "You diplomatic security?"

"Yeah."

"You enjoy it?"

"Good so far," Bradley shrugs. His eyes turn back to you only for Peña to keep talking, distracting him.

"You speak Spanish, Bradley?"

"For the most part "

"S'good," Peña nods. "Too many expats come here just assuming everyone is gonna speak English for them."

You know he's referring to you and Murphy.

What is this, twenty questions?! Shut the fuck up, Peña!

All you want is for Javier to leave you alone so you can talk to Bradley. Does he prefer Brad? Does he like Italian food? You'll never know because Peña is just standing there tossing questions at him like some fucking chaperone making it impossible to flirt.

"Got a specialty?"

"Threat analysis," Bradley explains before motioning to you affectionately. "It's where I ran into, uh, osita, I think you called her?"

Bradley winks at you, unaware of the smile that has immediately dropped from Peña's face.

"Not my choice," you assure Bradley. "I wouldn't have picked something so stupid."

"Little Bear?" Bradley says with a lilt of amusement in his voice. "I like it. It's cute. It suits you."

He thinks you're cute!

Okay, maybe you do like the nickname. You smile shyly up at Brad, unaware when Javier finally left you, only realizing that he's gone when you go to pay for your lunch.

///

Bradley Williams.

With friends he goes by Brad, as you had learned over lunch with him. As you ate your overpriced turkey sandwich you had learned quite a bit. He's a few years older than you, his favorite Beatle is Ringo, he doesn't smoke but he does ride a motorcycle.

Sexy.

He takes your number, citing that perhaps it's best if you show him around Bogotá sometime since he's new and doesn't know many people.

You'd readily agreed.

Now you sit at your desk, your mind on Brad and where you'll show him this weekend when the phone rings. Murphy glances up when you answer.

"Hello?"

"Hello, osita. Having a good afternoon?"

You hold in an irritated groan. Peña. Of course it's Peña doing what he does best: irritating the shit out of you. Murphy turns to look at you, one hand holding your forehead, the other holding the phone to your ear.

"Who is it?" Murphy asks from across the room, concern clearly written on his handsome face. "If it's Carillo can you tell him to come in?"

"Tell him it's Ortiz," Javier orders softly over the line before you can tell Murphy it's him.

You don't know why but you do as he says. You suppose it's the unusually dark quality in his husky voice.

"It's Ortiz," you say robotically. Murphy nods, turning his attention back to the file he's been focused on all morning. "What did you need, Ortiz?"

"You told me earlier that you don't care who I fuck."

Peña's voice is a low whisper, as if he's afraid of being overheard.

You hold the phone between your shoulder and chin, rolling your eyes.

"No," you say with irritation. "I don't-"

"Then you won't mind this."

There's rustling and you hear the phone being placed somewhere hard. Then there's the sound of Javier walking over the cheap carpet in what you can only assume is his apartment.

There's a few moments of silence and annoyed you go to hang up. Did he just call you to be annoying? Does he not know how much work you and Murphy are collaborating on? Was he not paying attention in the meeting?

No he was too busy trying to fuck with you.

Your hand is just about to replace the phone in its cradle when something distant stops you.

Is that a woman giggling? Your skin prickles.

Yes. You're sure of it now. It's a woman gigging, the sound of it getting closer. Now there's the sound of Javier murmuring something low in Spanish, causing the woman to give another breathy titter.

"Got someone here with me," Peña announces in a voice that sounds distant. "A guest."

Is this intel? Should you be writing notes? You bring out your notepad, pen poised above it.

"We're at my place," Peña's distant voice tells you. "My bedroom to be exact. Want you to picture that, osita."

What the fuck is he doing? You hear shuffling. Murphy is typing away, not noticing the confused look on your face.

"She's naked," Peña says in a warm voice. "Stripped everything off the second we got to my place."

Oh Jesus. This isn't Intel. This isn't part of any case. This is strictly Peña trying to fuck with you.

"Asshole," you murmur so quietly Murphy doesn't hear you over the cheap fan whirring in the corner of the room.

You know Peña can't hear you over the phone either. He's still at a distance and you can assume he's got the phone hidden from sight.

"She's getting on her knees so nicely," Peña informs you over the phone. "Obedient."

Your pen remains hovering over your paper, as if you're frozen in time. How is this woman just going along with this?

"She doesn't speak a lick of English," Peña purrs over the line as if answering your unspoken ask. He murmurs something in Spanish and you can hear the woman giggling. "Made sure when I went to pick her up."

You pray that Murphy doesn't notice the sharp elevation of your breathing.

"Also made sure to ask for a girl that looks like you," Peña continues huskily. "She's very beautiful, osita. But not close to the real thing."

Your mouth has gone dry. You're staring into middle distance, your eyes glazed.

"But she does have one advantage over you," Peña continues lazily. "She's here and she wants to get fucked. Quieres que te follen, hermosa?"

"Si papi," she breathes out.

"You hear that? She wants it. Fucking desperate for my cock."

Why haven't you hung up?

You hear it. The unmistakable sound of a belt being unbuckled and a zipper being dragged slowly downwards.

"Tan grande," the woman gasps. You hear Javier chuckle, a rich sound over the phone line.

"Puedes tomarlo, cariño," Javier murmurs back.

"Lo necesito en mi boca, Javi," the woman groans.

Fuck, why don't I speak Spanish?

You have no idea what they're talking about but it sounds impossibly sexy.

"She wants it in her mouth," Peña translates. "Wants her mouth stuffed full with my cock. Should I give it to her?"

Yes.

You remember what it felt like to have your mouth stuffed full of him. How good it felt when he looked down at you, eyes warm and mouth curled at the corners.

You like swallowing cock pretty girl?

For fucks sake. You hate that your thighs are rubbing together right there at your desk. You hate that Javier Peña called you just to brag about fucking someone. You hate that your nipples are so tight, rasping against the fabric of your bra.

You hear dramatic moans. "Por favor, papi?"

"So eager," Javier chuckles. "Aelante, entonces."

The phone is so tightly pressed to your ear that you're worried you're going to break it.

"You got that Gavriaz file?" Murphy asks from his desk, breaking the immersion. You drag your furious glare to blonde man looking at you.

"Murphy," you snap. "I'm in the middle of an important call."

"Could've fooled me," Murphy replies with a hurt expression. "Just sittin' there staring into space."

"I'm listening to what he has to say because its important," you hiss. "Now shut up and get the damn file yourself. Jesus."

By the time Murphy shuts the fuck up and you can turn your attention back to the phone there is already something underway.

"Just like that," Javier is saying, his voice guttural. "Little bit more. Poco más, bonita."

A mixture of emotions run through you. The first, shockingly, is a stab of jealousy. That someone else, another woman is with him intimately, getting to feel good. The second, more overwhelming feeling is deep, thudding desire for him to keep going. To hear everything. To experience it all even if it’s just through the phone.

"Remember how good it felt having your mouth full of me, pretty girl?"

Fuck. He's talking to you. He's actually going to keep talking to you while he does this.

You can hear the wet sounds of sucking and you can hear Javier groaning. That sound makes every hair on your body stand on end. That husky tinged voice of silk over gravel.

"Mmmm. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Mouth is fucking sinful. But I didn't pay for just your mouth. "

You hear movement, the sound of feet over carpet and then the creak of bodies being lowered to the bed.

They're closer to the phone now and you imagine that it's probably propped next to his bed on a side table.

You strain forward before catching Murphy's confused look. You realize you're still just sitting there silent, the phone at your ear and your mouth agape. You move drop your eyes to the paper on your desk, the notepad.

"Mhmmm," you say writing a note absently with a shaking hand. You hope Murphy doesn't read it because it's just your grocery list. "Okay, what else?"

Murphy seems satisfied with your reaction, going back to his paperwork. Your ear picks up the shuddering groan of the woman with Javier. You hear his groans, then the wet sound of licking and as the woman's moaning increases in pitch you feel your eyes blow wide.

No. No he can't be.

She's whining now, high pitched and needy.

"Mas por favor! Mas por favor, Javi!"

His mouth must go back between her legs because the whimpered begs turn to panted moans. And you know it's not fake, you can tell in the cracked way her voice hitches.

"Javi!" She cries, her voice husky. "Oh Javi, muy bueno. No te detengas!"

"Oh I won't stop," Javier's muffled voice promises. "Not until you come all over my tongue, carino."

The woman is almost wailing now, crying out in Spanish as Javier brings her to orgasm.

You will never forgive yourself for not letting Javier go down on you. You are positive that you'll be on your deathbed decades from now still bitter that you missed the opportunity to have his tongue between your legs.

Then you hear it. The sound of her coming for him, right on his fucking tongue like he wanted and you're sick with jealousy. Furious with yourself for not taking advantage when you had the chance.

And then there's the sound of their dual heavy panting. The sound of her whimpering cry as his mouth must remove itself.

"You hear that, pretty girl?" Javier groans, his dark voice muffled. "That's what it sounds like when I eat pussy."

Christ.

You want to lower your head to the desk. You feel your cheeks must be blazing and you think the wood would cool them.

"Bueno," Javier rasps, and you imagine him pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs as he does this. You hear him moving, shuffling and the bed creaks as he moves.

It's over.

The torture is done for today.

It has to be.

Except his voice is just closer, clearer. He's groaning a bit and you can tell he's laying on his back. The woman is breathlessly murmuring something in Spanish to him that he gives a hum of approval to.

"Eating that pussy's got me hard, osita," Javier purrs. "Fucking cock already leaking and. . . Oh. .. mmmm .. she's licking it nice and slow. Eyes on me the whole time. Such a pretty mouth."

Your cunt is actually throbbing at the thought of Javier's face as this woman licks his cock, this woman with the pretty mouth.

"Ven arriba," Javier grunts and you hear the creak of the bed. "Wanna see those tits while you ride me."

You hate him.

You hate him for doing this, for making you listen. You hate her, this nameless, faceless woman who gets to feel him.

You hate how wet you are.

You can hear the sound of a drawer being opened. It's loud in your ear and your assumption that he propped the phone up on the side table is all but confirmed.

He's getting a condom, you tell yourself. He's really going to fuck her and I'm going to listen.

There is a moment of quiet, a slice of time where you realize that Javier is listening near the phone for you, making sure you're still listening. You try holding your breath, realizing too late that just by not hanging up its given yourself away.

Then he chuckles.

The bed creaks and he moves back, the sound of the woman cooing at him, then the unmistakable sound of kissing. And you know that Javier kisses well.

Again you feel Murphy's eyes on you.

"Okay, yes I think I can get that to you tomorrow," you say hoping to keep the breathless quality out of your voice as you make another note on your page that just reads: fuck*.

There's moaning now, hers; theatrical but enticing. She's being paid for a service, and if it's one of Peña's girls she's gotta be good. You hear his grunts soon after, low and punched out of him as she rides him.

"She's bouncing up and down on my cock," Javier calls to you on the phone. "I'm just laying here, watching her. She's so fucking eager. So fucking greedy for it. I don't have to do anything, just watch her take it like a fucking champ."

You can hear her staccato-ed groans and whimpers with every bounce. The obscene slap of flesh against flesh.

"This could've been you," Peña sighs as if it's the world's biggest tragedy and you can hear him thrusting now. "Your pussy wrapped around my cock. You bouncing on my hips."

Your jaw is slackened and you feel your entire body is more taut than the strings of a violin.

"Mmmm f-fuck, I can picture how you'd look. Mouth open and so wet, tits bouncing," Javier grunts. "And no condom so I could fill that perfect cunt of yours to the brim."

You desperately need to touch yourself because right now your pussy has a fucking heartbeat.

"Don't worry, pretty girl," Peña grunts. "She doesn't do bareback. Even if she did, I wanna save that for you."

"Gonna get a sandwich."

Murphy's voice breaks into your other ear, ripping you from the immersive sounds Peña and that girl are making. Your eyes dart to his face, looking thunderous.

"JUST GO MURPHY!" you shout, so frustrated that Murphy is here at all.

Steve looks at you and sees you wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, hand gripping the phone handle so tightly your knuckles are white.

"Jesus, sounds like you might need one too," he frowns. "Be back soon."

You hear the rhythmic pounding in your ear as you watch Murphy saunter off, closing the door firmly behind him.

Don't do it. This is your workplace.

You stand on trembling legs, like a newborn foal.

This is the fucking embassy.

You rush over to the door, locking it and then rushing back to your desk to fumble the zipper of your trousers down, thrusting your needy fingers towards your core as you lift the phone receiver to your ear once more.

"Oh carino," Javier is cooing. "So good. Pussy just swallowing my cock."

Your fingers are curling inside you and all you can think of is how good you know Peña's cock feels. How perfectly he filled you last time. Your eyes are slammed shut, one hand down the front of your skirt, the other holding the phone welded to your ear.

You don't think about how it would look if you were caught. If someone saw you, the serious agent thrusting into your fingers at your desk.

"Faster," Javier demands and you whimper when you hear the sound of hand on flesh. "Rapida."

He's spanked her. Not hard, just enough to have her groaning delightedly and, you imagine, riding him faster. The rhythmic creaking of the bed increases in pace as does the frantic rubbing between your thighs.

"Si! Si papi," the woman moans.

You can just imagine Javier there, arms behind his head, grinning up at this gorgeous woman bouncing up and down on his cock.

He's so fucking arrogant. So annoying. And yet this image of a cocky Javier causes the finger circling over your clit to press and tap. Fuck that feels good, you're so close.

"Not enough," you hear Javier murmur, and you wonder if he even knows he said it. There's more moaning and whimpering and you’re horrified when you realize it's you.

You anchor the phone between your ear and shoulder and with your free hand you cover your mouth, sealing in the desperate sounds. You’re tilting backwards, your riding your own hand now. The chair makes soft creaking noises as you do it, your entire body flushing with need.

"On your knees," Javier commands in a rasp and you hear the woman adjusting, her cries of pleasure now closer to the phone.

"Si Javi-" the woman whimpers, and you can hear the slick of his cock being thrust back into her wet pussy.

"Mmm," Javier groans, and soon there is the rhythmic thumping of him fucking her over the bed.

You hear the sound of her being pulled back into his hips and you begin to tremble. Is he holding her hips to fuck her? Gathered her hair in his hand for purchase? Holding the headboard?

I need it. I need it again.

The woman is groaning below him, her cries ragged. You just know that she's not faking this part. That Javier really fucks as well as you've heard.

"That's it," Javier is muttering. "Take it deep, baby."

You remember how it felt to have him bottom out inside of you. Your fingers stutter over your clit, the pulsing starting. Without him even in the same room Javier is gonna make you come. You're gonna do it again, right here at your desk.

You listen for several more minutes, your entire body thrumming. And then you hear the sound of her desperate whimper, of a woman needing more.

"Lay back," Peña orders in a harsh gasp. More creaking of the mattress, more urgent Spanish whimpers.

You hear the sound of his cock being stroked vigorously, the sound of his breathing through clenched teeth.

Fuck what does it look like when he does that? How does he jerk himself off?

You need to know. You need to see his face when he makes himself come.

"Where do you want it?" Peña rasps, his mouth rolled towards the phone. You realize belatedly that he's asking you, even though he can't hear your reply. Where do you want it?

Inside. Inside.

"Probably want it inside like the last time," Peña laughs breathlessly, the woman's moans increasing. "But since you're not here I'm gonna come wherever the fuck I want."

He's disgusting, the things he says. You find him repulsive. And yet your body craves more. You need more. All you can think of is how much your body craves his right now.

"Today I'm gonna paint her tits with my come," Javier decides with a groan. "But I wish they were yours, pretty girl."

For whatever reason that's what does it.

Maybe it's that you've been teetering on the precipice of arousal for the last 15 minutes, or how Javier's voice goes extra low and husky when he's about to come. Or maybe it's that even though you know it's so messed up that he's calling you, fucking another woman and making you listen, it's turning you on so much.

Whatever the reason is, when Javier groans that last sentence you feel yourself snap. The pleasured ripples extend outward, moving from your cunt to overwhelm the rest of your body all the way until you're arching against your hand, rutting and groaning and making yourself come in the middle of your office in the middle of the workday.

You let out a sharp cry, one you didn't expect. One that he must have been able to hear over the phone if he'd been listening for it.

And then gasping and red-faced you tilt your forehead onto the desk, trying to quell the furious thunder of your heartbeat.

The phone rustles.

"Still there?"

You're panting; your lips dry because right now all you can imagine Javier's mouth curled into a sinful smirk as he asks this. You try to talk, but nothing comes out but a small sigh.

"Sounds like I won this round, osita."

He hangs up.

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