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absurdthirst · 17 days

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Rewarded & Rescued {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.2k

Warnings: Human trafficking, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of rape, threats of suicide, mentions of Stockholm syndrome, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, biting, protected sex, unprotected sex, angst

Comments: Undercover working for Escobar, Javier is given a horrible gift. A woman, an American. Kidnapped from a club and presented to him as a reward. Unable to let you know who he is, all he can do is reassure you that he won't hurt you. Until you work out that he's not quite what he seems.

A/N: Despite being an American, there are no physical descriptions of the reader. Conversations are in Spanish until indicated they are in English.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Gomez.” Javier looks up from his spot across the room when Herdanez comes into the room. It’s hard to react when his undercover name is called out but he forces himself to look up when he hears it.

“¿Sí?” He asks, stubbing out his smoke in the ashtray.

“Boss will see you now.” He says and Javier stands up and makes his way into the office. Escobar stands up and Javier pushes down his hatred of the man as he greets him as fondly as he can manage.

“Hermano. You’ve been doing a great job. Blackie said he’s impressed and I want to reward your hard work.” He snaps his fingers and the doors open, a woman stumbling in as she is manhandled by Blackie. He refrains from clenching his jaw. He knows what this is. The reward. “She’s yours. To do whatever you want with. And she’s American.” He grins wickedly, handing Peña your passport and your purse. “She can’t go anywhere without this. Take her and keep up the good work.” He says and Javier clenches his jaw, unsure of how to feel but he knows how to react. There’s only one way. He grins and reaches out to shake the boss’s hand.

“Thank you. She’s perfect.” He says with a smirk and your eyes widen, realizing that you aren’t gonna be rescued by this man.

It had been so stupid to go to that club. Even more stupid than it had been to even come to Colombia. You had risked it, you and the three other girls you had been with. Thinking that nothing would happen to you because you were Americans. Knowing Spanish and speaking fluently didn’t help when you were drugged and kidnapped by a fucking drug cartel. A notorious one at that. Everyone knows about Pablo Escobar. You had joked about buying some coke from him when you were safe in your hometown, planning this trip. Meeting him had been less than joyous though, your friends' fates possibly even worse than your own. They had talked about sharing the others with Escobar’s sicarios, letting all the men fuck them. It seems like you have the privilege of just being raped by one man, instead of numerous ones. “Please.” You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and your jaw hurts where the one they call Blackie had punched you. “I just want to go home.” You beg. “I just want to go home.”

Javier wants to shoot every fucker in there for making a woman plead for their life, for their innocence, but he can’t. He has to pretend like he’s as evil as the rest of them. “You aren’t going home.” He says in English. “She’s going home with me.” He chuckles, speaking in Spanish again, “I’m going to fuck her so hard she splits in two. Can’t wait to see her pretty eyes water when I shove my cock down her throat.” He says wickedly, smirking at the other men. “She’s gonna be screaming out.” He chuckles.

“Are you gonna fuck her ass? It’s cute.” Blackie winks at your horrified face and Javier shrugs, “haven’t decided. Gonna see how she does taking my cock in her pussy. I’m thick so she’s gonna struggle.”

You feel sick to your stomach. So much so that you gag. The only thing keeping you from vomiting is the fact that you are starving, not being fed since waking up in a tiny room after being taken from the club. “Please.” You begin in Spanish and then switch back to English. “Please? I can pay- my parents, they will- what do you want? Please, don’t- don’t do this.” It’s futile, but you have to try, unwilling to become someone’s sex slave.

“Your begging won’t get you anywhere. Nor will your money. Come on chica. I want to get you home.” Javier says in English as he grabs your arm from Blackie. He drags you against him and you struggle. “Don’t struggle. Unless you want me to put a fucking bullet in your brain.” He hisses in warning as he drags you out of the room to Escobar and Blackie grinning and clapping their hands in approval.

“No. No, no, no, no.” You try to fight him, to pull away even with the threat of death. It would be better than your future. You would rather be dead than to endure whatever this disgusting man would have in store for you. The fact that he’s actually attractive doesn’t even register, unable to believe anyone so vile could be remotely good looking. Your wrist hurts from how tight he is gripping it and you feel like your shoulder is going to wrench from the socket as hard as you are pulling back against him. Fruitlessly fighting the inevitable as he drags you out to a four door jeep. “No! Help! Someone please!” You scream, even though there is no one around, obviously planned that way.

He growls at you, “no one is gonna hear your cries here, sweetheart. Just shut the fuck up.” He demands, needing you to be quiet so he can get you up to his apartment and tell you he’s not gonna touch you. He slams the door after shoving you in the back seat and he gets on quickly, locking the doors before he starts the car. You press up against the wall of the car, shaking, and Javier wants to tell you it’s okay but he can’t. He can’t help you right now. “Stop whimpering. Makes it worse.” He tells you honestly, “be brave.”

Biting your lip, you try to do as he says, sure that these men take pleasure in hearing women cry. Your tears still stream down your face, wondering if he will kill you quickly, crying for your friends. Closing your eyes, you try not to sob.

Javi quickly navigates the traffic and parks in the garage, coming around after killing the engine to open your door and he grabs your arm, “come on.” He hisses, practically dragging you into the elevator. When you press up against the wall, he pushes the button for his floor and you shake. When the doors open, you remain pressed against the wall and he shakes his head, grabbing you to swing you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to his apartment.

It’s almost impossible to keep from kicking and hitting at him, but you keep yourself limp, making him work to carry you. Trying to see what the apartment numbers are and looking back at the elevator so you can run away the first chance you get. The man you’ve been given to is wearing a gun, tucked into the back of his jeans and you bite your lip, wanting to reach it when you get the chance.

He knows where your mind is at. “Don’t bother. It’s not loaded.” He lies, “bullets are in my pocket.” He walks faster and deposits you at the door as he quickly fumbles with his keys, pushing the door open to push you inside within seconds. The lock clicks as he shuts the door and you stumble back, eyes wide and you’re shaking.

“Don’t touch me!” You spit, getting angry. He might overpower you, but you are going to fight him tooth and nail. Make it difficult for him. “I’ll- I’ll kill you.” You stumble back and look around the living room wildly for anything to use as a weapon.

Javier can't help it. He chuckles, shaking his head. "You won't because I ain't gonna touch you, sweetheart." He can't tell you why but he can tell you that he won't harm you. "I - it's a long story but I had to make a show of it back there. I am not - not-" He emphasizes, "that kind of man. I won't touch you. You stay here with me until I can get you out. I can't risk it yet. Gotta make them think that I have violated you to impress them."

Shaking your head, you scoff, not believing him for a minute. He just wants you to let down your guard, to make it easier for him. He steps forward and you leap back, bumping into the coffee table and knocking a letter opener onto the floor with a loud clatter. Looking down, your eyes widen and you drop down to your knees to grab it as he rushes forward. “Stay back!” You scream, holding the sharp tip to your own neck. “One more step and you’ll have to fuck my dead body before it gets too cold!”

“Jesus Christ“ Javier groans, and shakes his head, unable to believe how dramatic you are being. To threaten to take your own life. When he just told you, he wasn’t going to touch you. He guesses he has to make you believe him by his actions, “there is no need for that, sweetheart. I promise you that I’m not going to touch you. I swear on my dead mama‘s grave and I like my women to be willing. I don’t like a fucking struggle. I want a woman to shake in pleasure, not in fear.“

“Then let me go.” You demand, frowning at him. He doesn’t seem angry you are threatening to kill yourself, just annoyed by wasting his time. “I can’t.” He huffs, making you snort.

“Of course you can’t. Why would you want to give up your gift? Doesn’t matter that I’m a fucking human being! You can’t own me, you don’t own me!” You start to yell again. “I have been threatened with rape, torture, I’ve been beaten and slapped around, my friends are probably raped and murdered too, all because I came to this fucking place and went to a club! Now I want to go home!”

Javier winces, knowing that your friends have definitely suffered a terrible fate at the hands of the sicarios but he won’t let that happen to you. “Listen to me.” He insists, “I can’t let you go because then they’ll know and I - shit - I can’t explain it to you but you got to believe me. Just believe me. I won’t touch you. I’ll make sure you’re fed and safe but you can’t leave.”

You don’t believe him, but it will do nothing more than piss him off to continue to argue with the man. He could just decide to shoot you, so you slowly drop the letter opener from your throat but you don’t let it go. Not fighting him will be as good as it gets.

Javier wants to roll his eyes if you think that you can take him down with a letter opener. “Do you want anything to eat? I doubt those fuckers fed you. I’m not much of a cook but I can do eggs and toast.”

You stare at him for a second. Wondering why, if he’s not like those other men, is he with them. When he just continues to stare at you, you nod slightly. “I- I don’t know what day it is.” You tell him. “I was at the club on Saturday night.”

“It’s Wednesday. They kept you in a room with your friends yesterday because you wouldn’t submit and they needed to make you suffer. Weaken you. It’s what they do. Fuck with your mind, then your body. Let’s get you something to eat and to drink. You gotta be starving.”

You shouldn’t take anything from him. Not when you know that he could just be toying with you, but you are ravenous. You bite your lip and nod once, looking around the apartment once again. Looking for any clue of what kind of man you had been given to.

He nods, making his way into the kitchen. He knows he’s taking a risk having you here and you could easily try to run or try to kill him but he has to take the risk. The bigger risk would be his cover being blown. He doesn’t entirely know if you’re a plant in his home to give information back to Escobar. He trusts no one and he can’t risk anything but he wouldn’t touch you. He could never cross that line. He opens the fridge and grabs the eggs and bread, grabbing the bottles of water to give you, certain that you’ll want something sealed until you can trust him.

It’s comforting that he’s given you something sealed but you discreetly turn the water bottle upside down and squeeze it to make sure there’s not a needle hole in the plastic. When it holds, you eagerly turn it upright and quickly break the seal. Gulping down the water in desperate gulps as you think it might be the best water you’ve ever tasted because you are so thirsty.

Javier watches you down the water as he puts the pans on the stove to begin cooking. The eggs start to cook and he turns to look at you, to really look at you. You’re gorgeous. No need to deny that to himself but he knows you’re angry and sad. Rightly so. He is for you. That this fuckers are doing this to other women and getting away with it. That’s why he’s doing this. Because of Helena, because of the lives that are destroyed directly or indirectly by Escobar.

You feel better just by drinking the water, but your stomach is still panging with hunger. The smell of the food making you moan quietly, unconsciously stepping towards the kitchen and the man inside it. “Are you- I can have some food?” You ask quietly. “Without doing things?”

Javier wants to growl out his frustration at you being worried that he wants something in exchange for food. The basic need. It’s insulting. He turns to look at you incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding? I- I just told you I didn’t want anything and this is food. You need food. Like I said, I like my women to give me all encompassing consent and I want them to be fully enjoying themselves. A struggle isn’t a turn on for me. It’s disgusting.” He says honestly, his face straight to convey the seriousness of his statement until he turns back to stir the scrambled eggs.

For a moment, you feel guilty. He seems genuinely disgusted by the idea of demanding favors from you, but he had accepted you as some sort of bonus from his boss. You swallow harshly and toy with the letter opener that’s still in your other hand. “Can I have more water? My- my mouth is still dry.”

“Sure. There’s plenty in the fridge. Go get one.” He says, wanting to give you some autonomy in a situation that makes you feel trapped. He watches you hesitate before you walk over to the fridge and he starts to butter the bread and puts it on the pan to toast.

You grab another water and look through the contents of the fridge. There’s not much, obviously he doesn’t eat here often and you wonder why he’s bothering to cook for you. More importantly, why aren’t you trying to get out of the apartment? You’re tired, hungry and he’s holding your passport. That’s why. You move over to a barstool at the counter and plop down, overwhelmed by everything.

He glances over his shoulder at you as he plates up the food, turning off the stove and he carries the plates over to the counter, setting them down in front of you and he turns back to clean up. “Eat.” He orders you with a point before he turns back to clean up.

It’s probably the gruffest nice thing that anyone has ever done for you, and you want to resist, but you’re starving. Falling on the simple breakfast with an enthusiasm that surprises you.

Javi notices how hungry you are and he pushes the other plate towards you. “Have that. You’re hungry. I already ate today.” He says as he washes up the pans, allowing you to have your meal in peace. He wants you to relax a little, realize he isn’t going to hurt you.

You shouldn’t accept it, but you’re too hungry to push it away. Devouring your eggs and toast before pushing the empty plate away and starting on the next. You might make yourself sick, but right now, you don’t even care.

He’s pleased that you are eating. You clearly need it after those bastards starved you. “I’m sure you want a shower too. I have a shirt you can borrow and some boxers - they’re new…I don’t really wear them.” He confesses, “I’ll see about getting you some clothes tomorrow.” He says, knowing he’s gonna need some help from one of the girls to get the right stuff. All he knows about clothes is ripping them off and he doesn’t want to do that to you.

You freeze for a moment, sure that the offer is just a ploy to leave you naked and vulnerable. His stance is unsure when he turns back to you, as if he’s embarrassed by the idea of not having clothes for you and that makes you relax. “I- I won’t-“ you pause, not sure of what you will say. “Thank you.”

Javier nods, “you need clothes and toiletries. Make a list of what you need and your sizes and I’ll get it sorted.” He promises as he scrubs the pan while you finish eating. He’s not sure how he’s going to get you out of the country without Escobar knowing. He will have to think about it later when you’re settled and not trying to stab yourself or him with a letter opener.

You can’t believe this man is willing to buy you clothes. Frowning slightly as you swallow the last bite of eggs. “Why do you work for a man like that?” You ask. “If you aren’t like him? How can you stand what he does to people?”

“It’s complicated.” Javier tells you as he wipes the counter down before he turns back to look at you. “I can’t tell you why. It would put you in even more danger. I know you can’t but all I can ask is that you trust me.” He pleads, needing you to believe that he’s here to be a good man, not like them.

You have no choice but to believe that he isn’t like those other men. It’s not like you can do much if he is, regardless. Your eyes are on his and you nod, realizing that he looks haunted. His dark eyes are trying to tell you something, but you don’t know what. “The American newspapers say the DEA will catch Escobar any day now.” You tell him. “You might want to stop working for him if you want to avoid jail or being killed.”

Javier can’t help but snort, “sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll keep that in mind.” Unable to tell you that he’s DEA. He can’t tell you anything, just in case you are a plant from Escobar. Your reactions tell him you aren’t but he can never be too sure.

You can only pray that you are still alive by the time that Escobar is taken down. You scrape the plate clean and sigh softly. Your stomach doesn’t hurt any more but you’re emotional and honestly exhausted. Yawning catches you off guard and you try to hide it from the man.

Javier notices and bites his lip, watching you for a second. “You wanna shower before you go to bed?” He asks, “I have a guest room. It’s all yours.” He adds when you narrow your eyes at him. He guides you to the bedroom and shows you the shower. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.” He offers, knowing you’ll want some alone time.

You’re alone and it should be the time that you are running to the window to see if you can escape or signal someone, but you’re too tired. Beaten down already and just wanting to shower and sleep. He’s bringing you clothes so you can’t lock the door, but you do lock the door to the bathroom before you strip your clothes off. The letter opener on the edge of the tub.

He grabs some clothes for you, setting them on the bed, and he wonders what’s going through your mind. You must be terrified. He wants to grab his gun and kill every fucker who does this to a woman. Make them pay. He can’t, not yet. He has to take this operation down from the inside out. He rubs his cheek while you shower, grabbing his pack of cigarettes to quickly light one. It’s gonna be hard to keep himself from thinking about how gorgeous you are. You are a beautiful woman and he can never tell you. You’d immediately be on alert and not trust him.

You feel better now that you’ve showered. Clean. You had scrubbed your skin so hard it practically squeaks and you are glad to trade the club dress that was stained and torn for the comfortable t-shirt and boxers that were waiting on the bed when you had peeked out the door to find no one in the room.

Javier snubs out his smoke and picks up the phone, dialing in on a classified number and giving his code name for access. “Peña. How’s it going?” His partner Steve asks.

“Christ, they gave me a girl. To do whatever I want with.” He tells Steve who groans down the phone.

“What are you gonna do with her? Fuck her?” Steve asks and Javi growls, “fuck no. She - she’s American. I have her passport. I need to figure out how to get her on a plane without Escobar knowing what I’ve done.” Javi explains.

Steve hums down the phone, “let me sort that out. You can’t risk having some girl in your apartment. Jesus, never thought I’d say that.” Steve snorts, “leave it with me.” He says before the line goes dead and Javier sighs.

Back in the bedroom, you are too exhausted to come back out, but you don’t completely trust the man who’s apartment you are in. Sliding a chair under the doorknob would be too obvious, so you put the letter opener under your pillow when you collapse onto the bed, ready to sleep. Hopefully, this will all be a bad dream and you will wake up from it soon.

Javier takes a sip of the whiskey, staring at the papers on the kitchen table while you sleep. He’s trying to figure out where the illegal money goes and who the money man is. If he can figure that out, he can track them down and bring them in. Escobar has had the government in his pocket for too long and they need undeniable evidence to make anyone take notice and question the cartel leader.

You sleep for hours. The sun is gone and the room is dark when you wake up. Making you think that maybe you had dreamed it all when you feel the letter opener under the pillow. Screaming when you realize you really are in this nightmare and not waking up safe and at home.

Javier rushes into the bedroom, eyes wide and gun in hand as he wonders if somehow someone from the cartel has realized who he is and has decided to take you both out. When he sees you sitting up, he glances around the room with his gun drawn. “What the fuck?” He shouts, heart pounding.

Eyes wide. You gulp. “S-sorry.” You bite your lip and raise your hands, leaving the letter opener under the pillow. “Bad dream.” You explain quietly. “I-I had a bad dream.”

He lowers the gun, feeling guilty for you having bad dreams. He shakes his head and shoves the gun into the back of his pants. “Jesus. Scared the shit out of me.” He confesses, placing his hand on his racing heart. “You want something to drink?” He asks, knowing you might not but he needs something to take the edge off.

You tilt your head, confused at the way this man just offers you casual hospitality like you aren’t his property. Nodding slowly, you have to admit that it would be good to relax a bit. “I- thank you.” You mumble. “For not shooting me.”

Javier snorts, “yeah well, I don’t usually hesitate before shooting.” He confesses, “but I wouldn’t shoot you.” He promises as he walks into the living room and over to the bar cart. “I have whiskey and…vodka.” He says, knowing that whiskey is the only thing he drinks so he has vodka for any of his female company that comes over to give him intel.

“I drink what you drink.” You decide, figuring it would be safer to have the same thing he is. He was less likely to drug your drink that way. You scramble after him, wearing the clothes he had brought you and in your haste, you had forgotten the letter opener.

Javier nods, grabbing two glasses and he pours out a heavy measure of whiskey into each glass. He knows you need it and he definitely fucking does. He hands you the glass after letting you watch him pour and he takes a sip to assure you it’s safe. “I’m sorry you’re here. In this shit situation with me.”

“I don’t understand.” You take a sip of your whiskey after he does. “You don’t act like Escobar, joking about what he would do with me if he wasn’t giving me to you. Yet, you had done something vile enough to rate getting a real live sex toy.” You snort. “A fresh cunt as Pablo said.”

Javier turns to look you in the eye, “don’t be mistaken. I’m not a good man. I’ve done a lot of shit. Bad shit. But that- touching a woman without her consent? That is too fucking far. I’ll kill bad men but I won’t kill women or children. I need to prove myself to Escobar but not by violating an innocent woman. I meant what I said…I like my women willing and consensual.”

You contemplate what he says, watching him closely and realize that he really is handsome. His chiseled jaw compliments his sharp nose and is softened by the mustache that is straight from the 70’s. “You must have been a Bandit fan.” You tell him suddenly, thinking about the American movie.

Javier chuckles, “I did love watching Burt Reynolds but I tried the 80s and didn’t like the clothes of the music. Didn’t fit me so I turned back to my old closet and I’ve never looked back since.” He smirks, “most women say it suits me.” He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink.

It does suit him and he knows it. You settle in the chair opposite him a little more. “So you aren’t going to hurt me, but you can’t let me go? Right?” You bite your lip. “Tell me, what are you going to do with me?”

Javier sighs, setting his glass down. “You’re gonna stay here until I can figure out how to get you home.” He reveals, “it’s too dangerous to let you go. They’ll find out I let you go and then it’s my ass on the line. Give me time to figure it out and then I’ll get you home.”

“Why?” You frown, looking down into the last drops of your whiskey and then back up at him. “You don’t know me, I’m nothing to you.” It’s harsh, but it’s also reality. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he’s going to risk himself for you?

“You represent the many women who have been abused or killed at the hands of Pablo Escobar and his sicarios. You won’t be one of the many who have suffered at their hands. You’ll go home and tell the world about this tragedy and tell them that Pablo Escobar needs to be taken down.” He says, measuring your reaction.

You stare at him in shock for a moment, unable to believe that he just said that about his boss. Biting your lip, your eyes water emotionally and you nod. “I’ll scream it every chance I get if I survive this.” You know there’s a good chance you won’t live. “He’s- he’s a monster. One who pretends to be noble.” You snort and shake your head. “I’m so fucking stupid. My friends and I- we joked about meeting Escobar on this trip. Buying some coke from him. I’ve never fucking done coke, but I was so cute, thinking that I could meet a drug kingpin.” You shudder and look back down at your drink. “Wish I had fucking missed my flight. Never come here.”

Javier reaches out to touch your hand before he pulls it back. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here. You’ll be safe with me. You shouldn’t have come to Colombia. You should’ve stayed at home. You and your friends shouldn’t have come but you’ll get home.” He promises, “I’ll get you home.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper quietly. “This is all my fault. It was my idea to come.” You confess. “My friends- they-“ you shake your head, unable to even voice the horrible things that you imagine they are going through. “It’s my fault.”

Javier doesn’t try to placate you with words when you know you’ve fucked up. He doesn’t want to upset you even more but he doesn’t comfort you. “Like I said, you will go home. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll believe you.” You snort, tossing back the rest of the whiskey and holding out the glass for another. “If I don’t, I’ll drive myself crazy.”

Javier nods in understanding as he grabs the glass and refills it. “You can’t leave here, you understand? If you leave, you die. I can’t protect you outside of this apartment.” He says as he hands you back the glass.

“I won’t leave.” You promise, shaking your head. “If you are actually not going to hurt me and keep me safe, I will do whatever you want me to. I just want to go home.”

“I’ll get you home.” Javi promises, his dark eyes meeting yours as he swears he will do whatever it takes to get you home. “Just do what I tell you and you’ll get home.” He swears, downing the rest of his drink.

****

It’s been a few days that you’ve been in his apartment and Javier has left to check in with the sicarios, having to lie and tell them the disgusting things they’d expect him to do to you. They laugh and he pretends to go along with it, making out like he’s done those vile things to you. When he returns to his apartment, he unlocks the door to find you walking around in the fucking shorts he bought you from the list you gave him. He feels disgusting for finding you attractive but you are. You’re gorgeous and he finds himself thinking about you but he would never cross a line, you trust him and he wouldn’t break that trust.

You turn towards the door and watch him walk in, smiling at the sight of him. “Hey.” You greet him and hurry over the bar cart. You have learned that he loves to have whiskey, especially when he’s dealing with the Escobar or his cronies. Pouring him a drink, you hold it out to him. “I started dinner. It should be done soon.”

“That smells good.” He tells you, groaning at the scent wafting from the kitchen. You’ve taken to cooking dinner and for a man who usually survives on booze and cigarettes, it’s a welcome change in his apartment. “What’s cooking?” He asks as he takes the drink from your hand. God, you’re fucking beautiful and can cook. Any man’s dream but he can’t kiss you. Even if he wants to. It’s hard for him to distance himself when he’s so used to physical contact. He hasn’t brought back any of his contacts to the apartment.

“You had some meat in the freezer so it’s like a birria, but I didn’t have tomatoes.” You shrug slightly as he lifts the lid on the pot. “Hopefully it’s good. Although maybe I need to give you a shopping list.”

“Smells fucking delicious.” He groans, “you’re a good cook.” He says and turns back after setting the lid back on the pot. “You’re - you’re too good to me considering the situation.” He murmurs, sliding his eyes across the room guiltily, knowing that his contacts at the embassy are working on how to get you out of the country without anyone knowing.

“You could be a lot worse to me.” You acknowledge. “You could have given me back. I’m grateful that you have kept your word and kept me safe.”

Javier nods, reaching out to gently touch your upper arm. “I am working on getting you out. It’s not gonna be easy but I’m working on it.” He tells you, lowering his hand when he reminds himself that you probably don’t fully trust him even if he’s given you no reason to doubt him.

“I- I appreciate it.” You murmur quietly, looking down at the rice you are cooking. It’s been harder to ignore how attractive he is since you’ve settled in and realized that you are safe. “I really do. So while I can, I’m going to take care of you.”

Javier is surprised and he shakes his head, a little pleased that you feel comfortable with him. “You don’t have to but I appreciate it.” He tells you softly, “now…you want something to drink and then I’ll show you the new clothes I got you.” He says, knowing you need more clothes, he had gotten the girls who work for Escobar to help him get some things.

“You bought me more clothes?” Your eyes widen. “All I do is stay in your apartment. What you had gotten for me was fine.” You promise. You aren’t ungrateful, but he’s not going to take you anywhere, so as long as you’re covered, you’re fine. In fact, you have grown comfortable walking around his apartment in shorts and one of his t-shirts.

“I just wanted you to have some choices.” He shrugs, a little flustered. He must admit that he loves seeing you in his shirts but he can’t admit that to you. You’d think he’s a creep. “I spoke to someone today who is working on getting you a fake passport to get you into the airport and on the plane so Escobar isn’t flagged that you’re leaving.”

“Do you think that could actually happen?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful. “That’s amazing!” You bite your lip so you don’t cry, noticing that tears make him uncomfortable.

“I’m working on it, beautiful.” He promises, “I’m not that bad to live with, I hope, that you want to go because of me.” He teases softly and he winks at you. You have slotted into his life seamlessly and he isn’t sure how to feel about it.

You laugh and bite your lip again, this time to keep from saying that he is great. For a man who obviously has done horrible things, he’s actually pretty fantastic. He is kind, respectable, and intelligent. You’ve spent hours reading the books in his apartment. “No, not because of you. I think that you might be my guardian angel.”

Javier sighs and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. I- I’ve done bad things in my life. I’m not a good man but like I said, I would never hurt a woman. My mama would slap me across the head if she were alive.” He says, ducking his head and he bites his lip, “when’s dinner gonna be ready? I’ll set the table.”

You shake your head and push him away from the stove playfully. “Go shower.” You insist. “You stink.” He doesn’t, but you want to take care of him. He should relax and get clean. “Shoo.”

He chuckles and nods, making his way out of the kitchen to shower and clean up. He never imagined he’d enjoy this kind of life. The one where he comes home to a home cooked meal and a woman that makes his heart flutter - not that he’d ever tell you that. He can’t get involved with you. You don’t actually know him or who he is. He needs to get you home and safe and he needs to take down Escobar.

Setting the table is so domestic. Like all of this. The table setting is for two, since he insists you eat as well and it’s shameful but you imagine he’s your boyfriend that you are cooking for. That you are together and he will kiss you before you eat. The rice is done and you smirk when you hear the shower start up, knowing that he will feel better after getting clean.

Javier showers and he can’t help his cock hardening at the thought of you walking around in his shirt wearing those short shorts. Fuck, he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t touch himself at the thought of you. He wants it. It’s hard not to when you look at him with those eyes. “Shit.” He hisses in English, reaching down to grip his hard cock, knowing this won’t go away until he deals with it. He slowly pumps, imagining you spread out on his kitchen table instead of your delicious food.

You fix yourself a drink too, aware that he doesn’t mind and sip it while you chop the few vegetables he had to make a salad. The man needs some proper food. And not from a restaurant like he had been doing. It feels good to do this, and you can see he appreciates it. Loving how he groans when he eats, you touched yourself last night imagining those groans were his sex noises.

He pants as he jerks himself off, the hot water running down his back as he imagined those little whimpers you make sometimes are from his mouth on your pussy. He wants to hear how you moan, see how you cum. You are as intoxicating as the whiskey you serve him and fuck if he doesn't want to drown in you.

The timer on the stove goes off and you smirk when you open the lid again. It’s smelling delicious and will be perfect the rice and the tortillas. His shower is taking longer than normal, so you don’t dish it up just yet, wanting it to be steaming hot when he sits down to eat

He groans when he cums, painting the shower tiles with his seed as he clenches his eyes shut and thinks about you. How fucking perfect you are. He pants as he rests his forehead on the cool tile as he slowly works his cock until he lets go and washes off the wall. He will do whatever it takes to get you home. You deserve to be safe and with your family. After turning off the shower and drying off, he dresses and makes his way back into the kitchen. "Smell better?" He asks teasingly.

You grin and lean in to sniff him when there’s the sound of gunfire, seemingly right outside the window. “Get down!” He screams in perfect English as he grabs your arm and pushes you down, under the table and sprints across the room to his gun.

His heart pounds as he grabs his gun and presses against the wall beside the window. The gun shots become more distant and he chances a peek out the window. Seeing a young kid running away. It’s something that happens with the young teenagers fighting in their own gangs. He pants as he lowers his gun, tense but glad to know you’re not in danger. You’re under the table so he sets the gun on the side and kneels down to see you. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, again in perfect English, forgetting to keep up speaking in his mother tongue around you.

English. His English is perfect, not even a hint of an accent. He's an American. Your eyes widen in horror and you jerk back when he reaches for you. “You’re an American!” You screech, pushing out from under the table and moving to the other side, keeping the table between you. “You motherfucker, you’ve been lying to me! What is this? Some kind of trick? You’re planning on trafficking me?”

Javier curses softly under his breath at his fuck up. “No! No! I- shit. I can’t tell you. I can’t but you have to trust me. I’m American and I’m- I’m one of the good guys.” He winces at how bad that sounds but it’s true. “You gotta just trust me, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you home.”

“Stay back.” You shake your head and your heart drops. “I- I don’t believe you. I’ve been here for days and you’ve just pretended that you aren’t American! How can I trust anything you say?”

“You have to.” He says harshly, “I’m the only way you’re going to get out of this country. I’m your only hope. So you better trust me or you will be stuck here forever.” He half threatens, needing you to understand the gravity of the situation.

Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “You’re an asshole.” You decide, not hungry anymore and you turn around and march towards the second bedroom he had given you to use.

Javier sighs, feeling all the progress goes down the drain as you slam the door and he leans against the counter, looking down at the food you cooked. He washes up and puts the food in the fridge, sighing your name as he wonders what to do now. He needs you to trust him for this to work. He decides to call Steve and see how things are going with the passport situation.

You don’t come out of the bedroom until you hear him leave the apartment again. Sighing as you come out to find that he had cleaned up the kitchen and put everything away. The clothes he had bought are neatly stacked on the counter.

Javier sits in the bar, smoking his cigarette, and the woman walks past. His eyes trail along her figure but he finds the usual fire he feels absent. Usually he’d be chasing her but now, all he can think about is you. He met with Steve in an abandoned parking lot, discussing the details and timeline on the passport for you. Steve narrowed his eyes at him, asking if he liked you, to which Javi vehemently shook his head. Now, he’s giving you space and he knows he has to go home soon to check on you.

Biting your lip, you look at the closed door that is leading to his bedroom. You haven’t been in there before, but now you want to see what this man is like. Walking over to it, you push the door opened and step inside.

Javier downs the rest of his drink and the woman stands at the bar making eyes at him. He smirks at her and winks but walks straight past her to head home. He hasn’t slept with anyone since you arrived because he didn’t want anyone to see you and he has to keep up appearances that you’re his sex toy. It’s been a while for a man who uses sex to process his emotions. He heads out the door and makes his way home, eager to see you and make amends.

You find his room to be really tidy for a man. His bed is neatly made and his dirty clothes are in a basket. All in all, the room is devoid of anything personal. Which makes you wonder even more about him. About why he is working with Escobar.

Javier comes down the hall of the building and quickly unlocks the door. You clearly don’t hear him because he finds you in his room, the door open, and he can’t help but confront you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Trying to find out who you are.” You don’t even try to lie, you don’t need to. Closing the beside drawer, you stand up straight. “What I’ve found, is that you are either the most unsentimental man on the planet, or you are here - working for Escobar - for a reason.

He appreciates you not lying to him and he knows he hasn’t told you anything. Maybe now is the time to tell you. “Come have a drink with me and I’ll tell you who I am.” He says, jerking his chin towards the door and he makes his way out into the living room and over to the bar cart.

He’s not yelling at you, or demanding you get out of his room and it puts you at ease more than anything else. Following him quietly and sitting down on the couch while he pours you both drinks.

Javier hands you the drink before he comes over to sit next to you on the sofa. He’s torn on telling you but he also thinks you deserve to know the truth now. He trusts you. He knows you aren’t working for Escobar otherwise his door would’ve been pushed down by now and a bullet in his chest. “I, uh, I don’t work for Escobar. Well, I do but…I’m actually a DEA agent and I am undercover working to take down Escobar and his cartel.” He reveals, deciding to cut straight to the truth.

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops open. What you had expected, you don’t know, but it wasn’t that he was a DEA agent. “I- are you for real?” You demand. “A fucking DEA agent? You must have been laughing at me when I said that the agency was close to catching Escobar?”

Javier shakes his head, “I wish we were closer. I wasn’t - I wasn’t original assigned to do this but I have to take him down. That’s why- it’s why I had to pretend that I was gonna abuse you. That’s what they expect of me and if I didn’t do that, I would’ve been found out.” He says with a sigh, taking a sip of his drink.

You stare down at your drink and sigh. “So the DEA knows Escobar is kidnapping women and trafficking them?” You ask quietly. “Good. Motherfucker needs to pay for what he did to me, to my friends.”

Javier nods, “he’s gonna pay. For all of it. He’s gonna be taken down and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure he pays for what he’s done.” Javier promises, “I’m just - I’m sorry you’ve gotten tangled up in this. That you’re stuck here with me.” He finishes with a murmur.

“Out of everyone Escobar could have given me to, I’m glad it’s you.” You admit quietly. “I could have been really screwed.” You snort at your pun. “Literally.” It’s better to joke about it now, to break the tension. Even if there’s nothing funny about what could have happened. “So now you don’t have to pretend with me anymore.”

Javier nods, "I am glad I don't have to pretend anymore, sweetheart. I - my pa would kill me for lying to a beautiful woman." He chuckles softly, looking down at his glass, sloshing the liquid.

Your brow raises at the words he uses. “You think I’m beautiful?” You ask in surprise. “I- I didn’t think that you- you never- I-“ you break off and just shrug.

He sighs and shakes his head, "I didn't want you to think that I wanted to save you because I wanted you to - you know. That was what I saved you from. You're gorgeous and I - I gotta tell you, sweetheart, I ain't got the best reputation around town. I, uh, a lot of sicarios spend their time in the brothels and...so do I."

“Do you beat the women?” You ask seriously. “Abuse them? You once told me that you like your women willing and eager to fall into bed with you. Is that true?”

He shakes his head immediately, "no. Shit. No. I don't - I pay them well. They give me intel and I, uh, I make sure they enjoy the time they spend with me. I haven't been since you got here." He confesses, biting his lip.

“Because of me….” You bite your lip and you can’t help how that makes you feel. Almost proud that he’s not been with anyone else. “Is that because you don’t want them to know you aren’t touching me?”

“Partly. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I didn't want to make you feel awkward and I didn't want to leave you alone for too long. And...and because none of them interest me since you've arrived."He admits, his dark eyes flicking up to yours as he worries about your reaction.

“Do I interest you?” You ask softly, afraid that you’re reading too much into this and wait for him to tell you no. The nod is so subtle, you almost miss it, but it’s there. He wants you. You look down at your drink and set it down on the coffee table. “I’m going to go into your bedroom.” You announce as you stand up, “come in two minutes from now.”

His eyes widen slightly and he swallows down the rest of his whiskey when you disappear into his bedroom. He rubs his hands on his jeans, Adam's apple bobbing with nerves. He is used to paying a woman for sex. You are different. You want him, actually want him, and he holds your life in his hands. He wants to keep you safe from everything...including him. Yet he can't deny what he wants. He wants you. Standing up, he waits another thirty seconds before he makes his way into his bedroom.

Inside his bedroom, you strip down to nothing. Aware that he could reject you or end up being a far different lover than what you’ve imagined but you have to take the risk. You want to feel alive for the first time since this entire ordeal started and ironically, you’ll achieve that by fucking the man you had been given to. Except you are in charge of your body, and you want him to touch you. You kneel down on the bed and look at the door when it opens.

Javier inhales deeply when he sees you naked and kneeling on his bed. Christ, you're gorgeous. He slowly walks over to the bed, his cock twitching in his jeans, and he reaches out to gently grip your chin, making you look at him. "Tell me what you want, hermosa." He orders softly, wanting to hear you say it before he goes any further.

It’s so strange to hear his voice in English after hearing it for days in Spanish. You bite your lip and turn your head to kiss his palm. “I’ve imagined you touching me. Making me cum.” You admit when you nuzzle back into his hand. “I want you to tell me your real first name so I can cry that out when I cum.”

He nods, pleased that you want him to make you cum. It’s what he’s imagined since you arrived. “Javier. My name is Javier but you can call me Javi.” He tells you, caressing your cheek until his hand slides down to your neck. He squeezes it gently and slides it lower until he’s cupping your breast. “Eres hermosa.” He murmurs, “I’ve thought about you in my bed.” He confesses, “thought about making you cry out my real name.” He squeezes your breast before he pinches your nipple.

You gasp out in pleasure at the sudden, brief burst of painful bliss. It’s just the right amount of roughness that you would enjoy anytime but especially right now. “J-Javi.” You whimper, already struggling to keep your eyes open so you can watch him touch you. “Do what you imagined to me.” You beg softly

He groans softly, letting go of your breast to cup your cheek again and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Pushing you back on the bed as he shifts to hover over you. Managing to kick his shoes off as he straddles your naked body, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

There’s something intoxicating about his clothed body grinding against yours. Enjoying the rough feel of his jeans against your thighs and core when he presses a leg between yours. His shirt is hanging down and you capture it, starting to unbutton it to feel his hot skin underneath your fingers as you kiss.

He’s already drunk on you. Groaning into your mouth as you fumble to undo his shirt and his hand slides down to squeeze your tit again. Unable to stop himself, he pulls away from your mouth, kisses down your neck, and takes your nipple into his mouth.

"Ohhhh fuck." you toss your head back against the pillows and whine at the sensation of his hot mouth against your nipple. HIs tongue running over it again and his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. "That's- so good." you pant out, running your fingers through his hair and tugging on it lightly.

He groans into your skin, switching over to your other breast, and his tongue soothes the flesh after he bites down. Your moans and gasps have him throbbing in his pants and he shifts to continue kissing down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button before he shifts to spread your thighs with his shoulders. Breathing you in, he gets a good look at your dripping wet cunt.

"Are you- you do that?" You ask breathlessly, lifting your head and looking down at him in shock. It was rare to find a man willing to even get close to a cunt with his face, but he seems almost eager. "You don't have to- I know that I'm wet enough."

Javier looks up at your confused expression and he snorts, “baby. I love pussy. I love burying my face in a pussy. I wanna bury my face in this pussy.” He says and surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds, groaning as your tangy taste hits his taste buds.

You whine, toes curling up and digging into the sheets underneath you. "Oh fuck!" you cry out, unable to believe that this man has his tongue sliding through your folds with an eagerness that would have you believing the women he paid were actually paying him. "Oh fuck, Javi."

He grins against your wet flesh, his fingers grabbing your thighs to push them back so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. The way you cry out has him grinding into the mattress and he’s glad he has his jeans on still.

Javi doesn’t just lick you to show that he will eat pussy, he licks you like it’s his only purpose. Thoroughly taking you apart one sharp flick of his tongue at a time, with his nose pressed against your mound and his hot breath puffing against your cunt.

Javier groans, loving your breathlessly whimpers and cries of his name, cries of nothing as you react to his tongue. He’s determined to hear you cum, to fall apart on his tongue. He wants to hear your pleasure. He closes his eyes for a second until you tug on his hair and he hisses into your pussy, dark eyes opening to meet yours.

“You like that?” You get your answer when you tug on his hair again and he groans into your folds again. Making you smirk slightly as you loosen your grip. “Make me cum.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard, and he needs you to fall apart beneath his tongue. His fingers press into your thighs as he spreads you further open for him.

Your thighs fall open for him. Willing to let him get as deep as he wishes if he continues to touch you like this. One hand buries itself back into his longer hair and the other grips the sheets tight. “Javi- oh- oh Jaaaaaavvviiiii!” You squeal when the next suck makes you fall over the edge and you shake in pleasure.

He works you through it, loving the way your thighs shake and you squeal his name. It almost makes him cum. He laps at your essence, loving the tangy taste as he eagerly drinks up every drop while he works you through your pleasure until you’re pushing his head away when it becomes too much for you.

“Oh fuck.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath but you want him to kiss you. Tugging gently on his hair and his shoulder, you urge him to crawl up your body. “Kiss me, fuck, I need you to kiss me.”

He can’t deny you anything. He crawls up your body, groaning your name as he wastes no time pressing his lips to yours. His tongue pushes into your mouth as he settles between your thighs again, grinding into you.

Your fingers slide down to the belt around his waist. Needing to strip him down and feel him. Unbuckling the clasp and flicking open the button. “Shit…” you hiss, reaching down and discovering he doesn’t wear underwear.

Javier grunts when you reach in to pull his cock out. He’s hard for you, aching really after jerking off so many times in the shower to thoughts of you. “Fuck baby. You feel too damn good. You want me to fuck you?” He asks gruffly, his cock twitching in your tight grip.

“Fuck, Javi, you- yessssss.” You moan. Your cunt clenches every time he twitches and he’s thick enough that you will feel him after you’re done. “I want you to fuck me. Take your pants off and slide inside me.”

He nods, shifting off of the bed to push his pants down. He kicks them aside and his cock bounces as he walks over to the nightstand to get a condom out. He wants to make sure you’re protected, even from him. He rips it open and rolls it down his cock, shifting to kneel on the bed. “You sure you want me inside if you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you fully consent.

You spread your legs wider, nodding. “Fuck yes.” You moan. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” You aren’t above begging at this point. You’ve cum, but you really want to see what he looks like when he falls apart.

He nods, shuffling closer between your thighs and he grips his cock, swiping it through your folds. He groans at the heat of you as he notches himself at your entrance and his eyes meet yours as he pushes inside of you. Slow, not wanting to hurt you. He shifts to press his weight onto his forearms as he hovers over you.

Your mouth drops open as he slowly fills you. Enjoying the slight pinch and the fullness he gives you. “Oh fuck, Javi.” You moan, eyes fluttering close and you slide your hand up his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss. “Move.”

He doesn’t disobey you. He kisses you as he starts to move, slowly pulling out of you and he pulls back to watch your face as he pushes back into you. “Want you to enjoy this. Every second. You tell me what you need.” He demands, rocking inside of you, a slow pace at first to let you get used to him.

“Want to feel you for days.” You whimper, wrapping your legs around him. “Fuck me hard. Like you would one of the other women you fuck.”

He shakes his head, “you’re not like the other women. You deserve more. You are more.” He says softly, his dark eyes sincere as he looks at you with something close to love but it’s not. Not yet. He starts to move again, rocking into you.

You don’t argue, you can’t when he’s moving inside you. Sensual with just a bit of roughness, it’s perfect. Making you moan every time his hips hit yours.

He loves hearing you moan. He leans down to kiss along your neck, his hips grinding against yours. He’s not as rough as he could be, not wanting to be the man the other sicarios thought he’d be with you. He wants to be soft and sensual. “Hermosa.” He murmurs against your neck, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

There is a tenderness to his kisses on your skin that makes your eyes water. This man is truly better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Your arms tighten around him and your cunt squeezes him tight. “So handsome. I can’t believe that those men think you are the same as them. You aren’t.”

He doesn’t respond, knowing he’s done bad things to take down bad men, but now isn’t the time to explain that. He continues kissing along your skin, down your chest until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. His hips move to push deep inside of you, switching the angle slightly as he tries to find that spot inside of you.

“Oh fuck- there!” You gasp out when he hits deep inside you and make your eyes fly open in pleasure. His cock hits against it again and you moan. Your fingernails dig into his skin and you scratch lightly, not wanting to draw blood.

With a groan, he focuses on that spot and he loves the way your nails dig into his back. His cock twitches inside of you and he shifts his weight onto one arm so he can snake his hand between you. He rubs your clit with his thumb, eyes on you to see what you like.

“Oh fuck.” Your mouth drops open in a moan before you close your eyes and your body arches up to his touch. “So good, fuck, you’re so good.” You whine. “We- we should have been doing this from the beginning.”

Javier groans in agreement, “yes but I didn’t want - I wanted you to trust me.” He says, kissing your sternum, “only want you to trust me.” He murmurs, “and now I want you to cum for me.” He rubs your clit a little faster, needing to feel and hear you cum.

“Oh yes, yesssss.” You whimper, feeling your entire body start to tense for your coming orgasm. Knowing that it’s only going to be a few seconds before you come apart underneath him and your breath catches in your throat.

Javier groans as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and he knows he’s already addicted to you. He fucking loves it. He loves making you feel this way. He rocks you through it until you relax beneath him then he pulls out. “Hands and knees, baby.” He orders, wanting to make you cum again.

You can't believe that he's not already cum. Most guys don't last longer than a few minutes and you've already cum. The fact that he's still going has you moaning even as he's guiding you onto your stomach and pulling you up to your knees. Looking over your shoulder, you grin. "Smack my ass." You order, wiggling it at him. "I did go through your room."

Javier chuckles, “you’re a naughty girl.” He rubs your ass cheek before his palm comes down on it, smacking you hard. You moan and his cock twitches. He grips his cock, positioning himself at your entrance when you lean forward to wiggle your ass. He’s not gentle this time when he pushes into you with a groan.

"Oh fuck!" You choke out when your entire body lurches forward at the thrust of his cock. Punching deep and filling you completely with one harsh thrust. "More." You moan as soon as you can draw another breath. "Fuck me, Javi."

He doesn’t deny you. Grabbing your hips, his nostrils flaring as he starts to fuck you hard. His fingers digging into your skin as he grinds him cock deep inside of you. “Feel good?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re enjoying this.

"Godddddd yes." You moan when he pushes deep again. "So good." Your head drops down to hang between your shoulder blades and you move down to your elbows. Letting him get even deeper with ever thrust of his hips.

He caresses your back as you shift forward before he smacks your ass with both hands, squeezing the cheeks. His thumb pushes between your cheeks to press against the puckered hole, groaning at the way it flutters with each push inside of you. Christ, he’s fucking drunk on you. The way you feel around him.

"Oh my god." Your eyes flutter wide and then you relax into the sensation of him pushing against that other hole easily. If anyone would breach you there, you would let it be him. "Fuck, Javi, whatever you want, please, just don't stop."

Hearing you say that has him nearly cumming but he holds back, slowly down a little. He likes that you trust him so much. He bends over, letting his spit dribble down between your cheeks so he can press his thumb into your hips while his cock continues moving inside of you.

You whimper when his pace changes, slowing down and you feel. every throbbing vein in his cock scrubbing against your walls. "Oh fuck." You whine, trying to push your hips back, but he as you pinned with his body. "So good."

He loves hearing you moan like this. “You’re doing so well, hermosa. Want you to cum for me again. Want you to soak my cock again.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he leans over you. He’s slow but he wants you to feel all of him.

You grunt as he presses deeper. Feeling like he's pushed up into your throat at this angle. You choke out a moan and clench down around him. "I- just like that." You beg, loving how he's pushing deep.

He keeps the same pace and thrust, wanting to hear and feel you fall apart again. He groans softly when your walls clench around you he him as he pushes his thumb into your ass. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna be good and cum for me?” He asks, voice raspy and deep with his own pleasure.

It shouldn’t affect you that bad. The way his voice dips down and his words twist in your stomach. “Yes.” You whine, tanging your fingers into the sheets. “Fuck, yes, I’m your good girl. I’m gonna cum.”

“Jesus.” He hisses at your words, his entire body vibrating with desire for you, and he pants as you grind back against him. “That’s it, hermosa. Thats it baby. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He pleads roughly and finally, you cry out. Your body shaking as you clamp down on his cock again and he thrusts into you, trying desperately to hold on but he pulls his thumb out and drags you up against his chest. His grunts in your ear as he picks up the pace, thrusting into you like a jackhammer as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

“Ja-Ja-Javiiiiiiiiiiii!” You squeal as he ramps up the pace, fucking into you roughly and you love it. Taking the harsh thrusts and knowing that the ache in your cunt will last beyond cleaning up. “Cum- cum in me.” You beg, even though you know he’s got a condom on. You still want to feel him fall over the edge. “Cum for me.”

He grunts, jaw clenched as his arm wraps around you and he squeezes your tit in his other hand. “Shit. Shit.” He pants as he thrusts fast and hard until he comes to a stop. A strangled groan escaping his lips as he pulses and fills the condom deep inside of you. His teeth sinking into your shoulder as he squeezes you close to his sweaty body.

The sharpness of his teeth make you clench around him again, milking his cock even more as you feel him ride out his high. “That’s it, baby.” You coo softly, turning your head and pressing your lips to his cheek.

He seeks out your lips, pressing his to yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands caressing your stomach down to your hips as you both take a second to enjoy your orgasms. He pecks your lips and lets go of you to reach down and grip the base of the condom before he slowly pulls out of you.

When he pulls out of you, your body melts into the bed. Slumping down and you huff out a chuckle as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit.”

He quickly ties off the condom and leans down to kiss along your back as you recover. “Damn right.” He chuckles softly and shuffles off of the bed. He grabs his jeans and pulls them on before he walks into the bathroom to grab a wet rag to clean you up and then he tosses that onto the side when he settles down on the bed, leaning against the mattress. He reaches into the nightstand to grab his smokes and he wastes no time in lighting one.

You turn to look at him, stealing the cigarette and taking a drag. “Are you ready to go back to your real life?” You ask him seriously. You know that if he’s undercover, he has to be under a lot of pressure.

Javier sighs as he exhales the smoke. “I don’t even know what my real life is. All I know is that I need to take down Escobar. Nothing else matters except that. And I gotta get you home.” He adds, raising his eyebrows at you before he takes the cigarette back to take another drag.

“That’s comforting.” You snort, swinging your leg over his thighs and straddling him. “You will take him down.” You predict softly. “and until I go home, I’ll make sure this apartment is very….relaxing for you.” You promise with a grin, leaning down and kisses him right after he inhales the smoke.

He smirks and playfully nips your chin, shifting to snub out his smoke in the ashtray on the nightstand. “Yeah? Gonna make sure I have a nice warm pussy for when I’m coming home all cold and lonely?” He asks, his hands coming up to caress your waist.

“You fuck me like that?” You huff, grinding down on him. “You’re damned right. Freshly shaved and dripping for you.”

Javier clicks his tongue, “not bothered about the shaving. I’m a man of the 70s, baby. I ain’t afraid to get down and dirty.” He smirks and slides his hands lower to squeeze your ass. “You enjoy it?” He asks, licking his lower lip as he leans back to look at you, wanting an honest answer. He hasn’t paid you to moan for him. He wants to make sure you enjoyed it.

"Loved it." You admit easily, smirking down at him and cradling his face so you can kiss him again. It's fucking astonishing to find a man who is as good as he is under these circumstances. You should be terrified of him touching you, but you can't wait until he is wrecking you again. "Want to do it again. When you can."

Javier chuckles softly, caressing your skin. “I’m not eighteen anymore, baby. Gimme a while. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you off in the meantime.” He smirks and slides his hand lower until he’s cupping your pussy. You whimper and he rubs your clit, “God, you’re still so wet.” He murmurs, shifting to push two fingers inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You whine, rocking onto his hand shamelessly. “You- you’re so fucking good at this.” You whimper, eyes sliding shut in pleasure. He’s not selfish and that makes you even wetter for him.

He smirks, loving the praise, and he curls his fingers deeper before pressing his thumb to your clit. “Take what you need baby. Ride my fingers.” He orders, loving the way your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut.

This man is so sexy. You don’t know why he’s not been snatched up, because he’s also a good man despite what he says. You moan his name quietly and roll your hips down onto his hand eagerly. Wanting to obey him.

He watches you take what you want from him. Your hips grinding down on his digits and he curls them as you rock down. “That’s it baby. Take what you need. Wanna watch you cum again for me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes flicking between you and your pussy, his digits glistening when you lift up. “You’re so wet.” He murmurs again, a tinge of awe in his voice.

“You’re so sexy.” You hum, ducking your head down and nipping his jaw as you continue to rock in his hand. “Sexy, chivalrous, fuck, you turn me on with how fucking good to me you’ve been. And you’re an agent? Even sexier.”

His heart pounds at your compliments and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours as you grind down onto his fingers and his thumb presses harder against your clit. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs against your lips, “gonna keep you safe.” He vows, “gonna make sure no one touches you except me.”

You whimper into his mouth when his tongue slides against yours once more. You believe him. If he says you will be safe, then he will protect you. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pour yourself into the kiss, wanting to make this good for him too and he seems to really like kissing.

His groan is muffled by your tongue and he isn't in a rush to make you cum. His cock is interested but he's still not fully hard. His free hand finds your breast, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as you eagerly kiss him.

Shuddering, you press yourself into his hand harder, needing more. He's completely focused on you and you don’t think anyone has ever done that for you. You nibble on his lip when you pull back slightly and moan again when he curls his fingers up.

"That's it, hermosa. Can feel how close you are. Need you to fall apart for me. Can you do that? Can you cum?" He asks, murmuring against your chin as he pushes his fingers deep, slow, hard thrusts into your weeping cunt.

“Yes.” Your gasp of pleasure is one that is purely anticipatory. Knowing that you are about to cum again, your body tensing as you move closer. “Gonna cum for you.”

"That's it. That's it." He murmurs as seconds later, you clamp down on his fingers. "Good girl. Good fucking girl." He groans, loving the way you practically soak his hand and his jeans as you shake against him.

You collapse against his chest and pant as you try to catch your breath. Your body is still quaking and his fingers are still moving, although slower than they were before. Turning your head, you kiss along his neck lazily.

He withdraws his fingers after a few moments, his wet fingers squeezing your ass as he rocks you on his hardening cock while you kiss along his neck. "Fuck baby. Want me to fuck you again? Want you to ride me." He confesses when you pull back to look at him.

“I’ll ride you.” You nod, reaching down and palming his cock through his jeans. “You have another condom?” You ask breathlessly. “Want you to sit right here and relax while I make you feel good.”

He nods, reaching over to grab a condom from the nightstand and he hands it to you. "I'm yours to do what you want, hermosa." He promises, a groan escaping his lips when you pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him.

He’s gorgeously uncut and you can’t help but slide down his body so you can take the head of his cock into your mouth. Wanting him to experience your mouth before you ride him. He moans and your tongue presses against the sensitive slit.

“Jesus Christ.” He hisses as you take him into your mouth. “Baby. God. I- fuck.” He groans when your eyes flick up to meet his. He’s a sucker for eye contact. It’s so sexy. You are so sexy. His cock twitches in your mouth and he swears he has to take a deep breath to control himself.

You want to make it good for him. Keeping your mouth soft and sensuous as you work him slightly deeper. Keeping your eyes on him since he seems to like that a lot. Your moan of approval when you taste the salty pre-cum reverberates around him and your hand starts to slowly pump the base of his cock while you bob your head.

"Fuck." He pants, reaching down to caress your cheek, "you're so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "so fucking beautiful." He can't deny that you make him feel so much more than any other woman he's slept with in years. That scares him honestly.

You hum, sucking on him lightly and pulling off with a pop. “You want to cum down my throat, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly. “Your choice baby.”

“Ride me.” He says, voice rough with desire as you slowly pump his cock. You nod and let go of his length. He shifts back against the headboard while you grab the condom and straddle his thighs.

Ripping the foil open, you pull out the rubber and pinch the tip while you roll it down his thick length. Making sure it’s secure, you pump him again while you shuffle forward and line your cunt up to sink down on him. Quickly taking him into your body with a loud moan of his real name.

He groans your name as you sink down onto him, his fingers finding your hips as you moan as he stretches you out. “God, baby girl. You feel so good.” He grunts, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits as you settle onto him.

“You feel good.” You pant out breathlessly. Enjoying the hot hands on your tits as he pinches your nipples again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi.” You whine, leaning back and letting your head fall back between your shoulders. “You’re so deep like this.”

He groans, his eyes flicking down to look at where he’s disappearing inside of you. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re so good. Look so good.” He says as you lean back and he slides his hand across your stomach until he’s pressing his thumb against your clit.

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper, your cunt clenching around him when he starts to rub small circles in your bundle of nerves. “You know every trick in the book, don’t you?”

He chuckles darkly, “had a lot of practice. Lost my virginity when I was fourteen.” He confesses while rubbing your clit a little faster. “Also, wanna see you cum. Like seeing you cum. You’re so gorgeous.” He reveals, leaning in to gently kiss along your shoulder.

“Hard not to feel gorgeous when I have your attention.” You admit with a sigh, enjoying the slight tickle of his mustache. “You should have a dozen kids by now.”

He snorts, “I’m careful. Always keep it wrapped and I haven’t had any accidents. Haven’t had anyone come forward yet. Why? You volunteering?” He asks with a smirk.

You moan softly, clenching down even as you grin. “That would be a conversation to have, wouldn’t it? Asking how you go together and having to explain that you knocked up the woman a drug dealer gave you. But she wanted you to.”

“Hell of a story.” He agrees, “I definitely don’t think you should get pregnant right now. I would have to kill every fucker in this goddamn country to protect you.” He says with a hiss.

Your brow arches up in surprise, you had expected him to laugh off your comment. Instead you hum in agreement and lean in to kiss his lips. “Agreed. The condom stays on.” You squeeze him again and bounce a little harder on his cock.

He’s a little relieved but also a little disappointed. He doesn’t deny that the idea of seeing you pregnant is tempting but it’s irresponsible. Beyond imagination. He has to keep you safe and that includes all aspects of your physicality. He groans when you bounce harder again. “Christ, baby.” He murmurs, “so fucking good.”

You can barely push out a light chuckle, so breathless from how his cock is hitting inside you. Deep and thick, he presses against all the wonderful spots that make your body tense every time you slam back down on his lap.

“That’s it. You gonna make yourself cum on my cock like a good girl?” He asks, licking his thumb again to press it to your clit as your hands press against his chest for balance. “So beautiful riding my cock like a goddamn rodeo.” He pants, “seen less professional ones in Texas.” He jokes breathlessly

“Ohhhh fuck!” You moan, jerking slightly at the pressure. “Yeah? You’re a Texas boy?” You ask, wanting to know more about him.

"Born and raised. Laredo." He reveals and he groans, "fuck. I- I need you to cum for me again, sweetheart. You - you're so fucking tight." He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock.

You whine, nodding as your hands brace on his broad shoulders. Increasing your pace until you are practically galloping on him. Moaning out his name until that last roll of your hips and your entire body stiffens and you scream his name.

He groans when you clamp down on his cock, your body putting him in a vice grip that he struggles to move within but he shifts onto his knees, your legs around his waist as he thrusts up into you. "Fuck. I- I'm gonna cum." He warns, unable to withhold like he did last time when you're so fucking tight around him and you sucking him off before. "Mierda. I - fuckkkk." He hisses as he bites down on your shoulder

You moan softly when you feel him throbbing inside you. “Thank you.” You whisper, closing your eyes and holding him close. “Thank you for caring for me, protecting me, satisfying me.” You know that it’s crazy but you turn your head and kiss his neck. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Normally, Javier would be shit scared. He would've been running for the hills hearing those words but he can't run away from you. Especially when he feels the same way, it's terrifying. To have something - someone - to lose when he's fighting for his life in this undercover mission. One wrong move and he's dead. You're dead. It puts everything on the line but in this moment, he doesn't give a fuck. He pulls back from you to look you in the eye. "I feel the same. We shouldn't. So much at risk but fuck, I love you." He murmurs, voice rough with emotion.

You know that it’s probably the proximity, that once you leave, he will never think of you again, but you smile into his neck and sigh happily. Your fingers caressing his back gently. “Good.” You hum, basking in the moment and stealing every second of joy life will give you. “That’s good, baby.”

****

A few weeks go by and you're settled in a routine. You sleep in Javier's bed at night...well, try to sleep after he fucks you. Then you spend your days reading and waiting for Javier to return home. One day, he comes back and you greet him with a kiss but he doesn't seem enthusiastic. "What's wrong?" You ask and his dark eyes look sad as he holds up the passport in his hand.

"Got your fake passport. You're booked on the first flight home in the morning." He says, swallowing harshly.

“Oh.” Your heart drops and you immediately have to look away from him, eyes watering. You don’t want to go, as crazy as that sounds. It’s dangerous and he’s undercover, so you can’t stay, but you don’t want to. “Well, I- I guess that tonight is our last night together.” You try to sound stoic but it falls flat. “You’ll be happy to not worry about me.”

Javier shakes his head, throwing the passport down on the table nearby and he grabs your waist to pull you into his chest. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathes you in. “Don’t want you to go. I want to stay here in this apartment with you and forget about the rest of the world but it’s dangerous here, hermosa. I can’t lose you and if something happened - fuck - no. You need to go. You need to be safe and I’m gonna try to take that bastard down.”

“You will take him down.” Javi has been opening up to you, finding it cathartic to have someone know that he’s not the monster that the men he is with are. Your arms hold him tight and you try not to cry. “You will, just like you kept me safe.”

He kisses your hair before he kisses your forehead. His nose nudges yours and he tilts your head up to press his lips to yours. He needs to know you’re safe. It’s more important than his love for you. He can love you from afar. He doesn’t want to love you from a grave site. He deepens the kiss, suddenly getting urgent with need for you as he pushes you up against the wall, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

You feel the change in the mood, from sad to desperate and you understand completely. If you are leaving, you want this time with him, you need it. The chances are that you will never see him again. Your hands move, desperately ripping open his button on the shirt he is wearing, scattering them across his apartment.

He groans into your mouth, practically devouring you, and he drags the dress you’re wearing up your body, reluctantly pulling back to pull it over your head and it’s soon on the floor. No words are spoken as he kisses your neck and cups your tits, glad you have taken to not wearing a bra in his apartment.

Your fingers push the stretched fabric of his shoulders and let it fall, attacking his belt next. He doesn’t wear underwear, so the second you can, you are wrapping your fingers around his cock and moaning when you find him already hard.

“Shit.” He hisses as you squeeze his cock and his fingers hook in your panties. He isn’t patient. He can’t wait to push them down so he’s ripping them from your body with a groan. “Fuck. Need you.” He rasps, grabbing your thighs to lift you up against the wall. “Put me in.” He orders, his cock throbbing in your grip.

You whimper his name, finding his need for you utterly intoxicating and you notch his cock against your entrance eagerly. Gasping when he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself to the hilt. No gentleness, just pure need.

He’s driven by desire, love, and desperation. He doesn’t want to lose you but he can’t be selfish. You deserve to feel safe and you need to go home. He can’t follow you and he can’t let everything he’s worked so hard for you down the drain. He groans your name and leans in to press his lips against yours as his body keeps you pressed against the wall until he starts to move his hips.

You whimper his name, clinging to him like he’s going to disappear if you let go. “I’m yours.” You promise raggedly against his lips. “All yours, make me yours.”

He loves the way you cling to him. He thrusts into you, desperate and sloppy but passionate. “Mine. Like I’m yours baby. Fuck. You’re mine.”

“Yes, yours all yours.” You pant, desperate for him to know it, to believe it. His hips slam into yours and drives you into the wall to make you moan at the roughness of it. “More, baby, I need more.”

Javi groans, his fingers digging into your thighs as he works you on his cock, lifting you up and down as he pushes you into the wall. “Fuck. Tell me what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”

“Just you.” You squeal breathlessly, reaching down and rubbing your clit. “Just need you. Just you baby, your cock is so good. So perfect inside me. I love you.”

“Oh fuck Javi, Javi, JAVIIIIIIIII!” You scream out in pleasure when your body locks up, core clenching down around him and soaking him with your cum. Shaking against the wall while he continues to pound into you and draw out your orgasm.

He swears his heart stops when you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes. That’s it baby. That’s fucking it.” He growls, loving the way you grip him and soak him and he pushes deep, “fuck. I- I gotta pull out.” He murmurs, remembering he didn’t put on a condom.

“Don’t.” You whimper, wanting to feel him just once. “I’m about to start my period.” You are, you aren’t lying to him. You should be completely safe for him to fill you up this once. “Want to feel you. Keep you with me.”

He doesn’t deny you. He groans as he thrusts hard, pushing deep inside of you a half dozen more times before he cums. He pants just before he bites down on your shoulder. “Fuck. I love you” is muffled into your skin.

Your eyes roll back and you whine at the feeling that is swimming around inside you. Enjoying the heat and wetness as he paints your walls with spurts of his hot cum. “Love you too.”

He kisses everywhere he can reach. Your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and finally your lips. “Te amo.” He chokes into your mouth, hating that he has to let you go. He’s terrified of you forgetting all about him. He loves you. He loves you more than he ever thought possible and he’s going to leave you.

“I love you too, Javi.” You can’t help but start to cry. They are silent tears, ones that just express how badly you want to stay with him. A far cry from the woman screaming to go home not so long ago. “I don’t want to eat. I just want to go to bed, baby.” You beg. “Take me to bed.”

He doesn’t pull out of you. Instead, he carries you into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. He’s gentle, caressing your body and he pulls out of you as he shifts to lay between your thighs. He stares at the mess he made looking at your entrance, cum threatening to drip out, and he can’t help it. He surges forward to slide his tongue between your folds.

Shuddering, you moan his name while your fingers run through his hair. You’ve learned that Javi has no problem with doing what he wants and he obviously wants to touch you like this, unconcerned with his cum between your thighs. “Fuck. I love you. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls back for a moment to say “I don’t want you to go but you have to.” He dives back in a few moments later, his tongue ravenous and carving indistinct paths while he tries to memorize every tiny detail about you.

Your moans fill the room, soft and sweet. He’s taking his time, not rushed a bit as if you have all the time in the world rather than just tonight. He reaches up and twines his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he continues to take you apart with his tongue.

He wants to burn your moans into his memory, carve your taste into his tongue, he needs to remember every single detail about you before he lets you go to return to safety. He’s slow and methodical as he pulls you apart stroke by stroke, uncaring of the salty taste of his cum combined with your tangy juices that make him go crazy.

You’re there forever, legs spread while he feasts. Time seems to suspend into nothing and your breath catches and never recovers. Making every moment drag out as your body burns and twists on itself until your orgasm snaps through you, sharp and bright, cunt gushing all over his face when he presses his thick fingers deep into your walls.

Javier groans into your clit, loving how you are clamping down on his digits. "Fuck baby. That's it." He murmurs into your flesh as you shake above him. He works you through, his fingers squelching with your combined cum.

Panting, you try to close your legs, overstimulated and nearly sobbing from the pleasure. He kisses your thigh and grins up at you. “Want another?” He asks and you shake your head. “I just want you.”

He snakes up your body, kissing every inch of skin he passes, until he is pressing his lips to yours. "I love you, hermosa." He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours as he settles beside you and pulls you into his side.

“I love you too.” You sigh softly, your hand splayed over his heart and you kiss his chest. “I know you won’t be able to call me, but I’ll be thinking about you. Hoping you’re safe. Praying you are.” You know he can’t promise you anything, this is just a flash in the pan for him, and he will go back to his normal life after he catches Escobar. “You’ve saved my life, Javier.”

He sighs, “I did what was right. I have fucked up a lot on my life but I couldn’t let you be abused or worse. You were something special from the moment I saw you. I’m just - all I ask is that when you get home, you’re happy. Be happy.” He pleads softly, wanting to know that this hasn’t all be in vain.

You want to tell him that you won’t be happy unless you are with him, but you can’t. Not when it’s not what he wants to hear. “I will, Javi.” Reaching up, you caress his cheek. “I can be happy because of you, amor.”

Javi’s dark eyes meet yours and he swallows harshly, “good.” He murmurs and brushes his lips against yours. All he wants is for you to be safe and happy…even if that isn’t with him.

****

Javier glances around the airport, worried that a sicario or two have followed him. Steve is in the terminal with another agent to make sure he has back up just in case. Your passport was accepted without question and won’t be flagged by one of the informants for Escobar who works at the airport. He bites his lip as he sets your suitcase down at the gate. Your eyes are already watery and he fights the instinct to just take you back home but he can’t. You have to go.

“This is it.” You bite your lip, aware that you shouldn’t cry but you can’t even help it. You’re doing good not bawling your eyes out. Glancing around the airport, no one seems to be watching you, but you look back at Javi. “Can I kiss you?” You plead softly. “One more time? Or is it not safe?” The last thing you want to do is to put him in danger, but you can’t imagine boarding this plane without kissing him goodbye.

Javier can’t deny you. Hell, he can’t deny himself. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist to drag you against him. His lips immediately find yours and he groans into your mouth as he pours every thing he’s felt for you into this last kiss. He doesn’t care if anyone is watching. He needs to do this, he needs you to know how he feels.

It’s a goodbye kiss. A kiss that is desperate and yearning and bittersweet. The saltiness of your tears mixes with the whiskey and nicotine from Javi’s tongue. You hold him close and kiss him back just as desperately until you are unable to think about anything but him.

He isn’t sure how long he kisses you, but soon the tannoy announces that your flight is about to board. He pulls back, pecking your lips, and he leans back to look at you, his hands caressing your waist. “It’s time to go, baby.” He says, letting go of you and your hands clench in the air as if to keep holding him. His heart is pounding in his chest but he has to let you go. “Be good. Be happy.” He demands softly, kissing your forehead as your row is called.

Walking away from Javier is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Looking back at him until you can’t see him anymore, you bite back a sob as you collapse into your seat. You’re free, but at what cost when you are separated from the man you love?

****

It’s been a year and Javier has no clue if you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve found a new guy. You could be married. The thought makes his stomach twist but he’s here. He tracked you down using his contacts and he’s here to see if you still feel the same way. He does. The former Casanova of Bogotá has been celibate since you left, wanting to focus on taking down Escobar. He fucked up. Got involved with Los Pepes and got sent home before he could take down Escobar but he’s here and he doesn’t want to focus on his failure. He swallows harshly and takes a deep breath before he rings your doorbell.

You sigh as you hear the doorbell, looking over at the door and contemplating not answering but you can’t do that. Wiping your hands on the kitchen towel, you walk over to the door and flip the lock to open the door. Since you’ve been back, you’ve settled back into life with only a few hiccups. Memories of your time in Colombia are now bittersweet, the good far overshadowing the bad.

Javier shifts from one foot to the other as you open the door and he offers you a half smile. “Hola hermosa.” He says, fingers flexing as he prepares for your reaction.

Eyes wide, your mouth drops open in shock. You never expected to see Javier again. Not really. You had convinced yourself it was that Stock-ham, whatever, you had read about. That it was just a fling for him and that you had imagined yourself in love with him. One sentence, two words from the man, a year later would prove that was a lie. “Javi!”

He stares at you, heart pounding as he prepares himself for your reaction until you fling yourself forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. He groans into your mouth, loving how you feel in his arms, pulling you so close you can barely breathe.

You don’t care that it’s been a year. That you haven’t heard from him and that you’ve wondered if he’s been dead or alive this entire time. Scouring the news for any information about Escobar and the entire ordeal down in Colombia.

He kisses you over and over until finally he pulls back and looks at you with love in his eyes. “You been good?” He asks and you nod, still speechless that he’s found you. “I, uh, I got sent home. Fucked up and got involved with the wrong people but I’m here and I- I still love you.”

“I can’t believe you are here.” When you find your tongue, you’re reaching out. Touching him in disbelief and for one horrible moment, you are convinced it’s a dream. “I’ve missed you. So much. You really still love me? It wasn’t just….circumstance?”

Javier reaches for your wrist, kissing your pulse. "I still love you. I haven't - I haven't been with anyone since you left. I fought hard to get Escobar so I could come home and find you." He admits, "I love you. I still love you."

“Oh baby.” You whimper quietly, melting against him. “I love you too. I never stopped, I couldn’t stop. You- you are the love of my life and I’m grateful Escobar gave me to you.”

Javier cups your cheeks and nudges his nose against yours. “I’m here baby. I’m here and I ain’t leaving. I love you.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as he breathes you in.

****

“Fuck Jav.” You moan as your hips rock up to meet his mouth. It’s early, the sky just changing colors with the rising sun, and Javi woke up eager to have you. He’s been at your home ever since he got back from Colombia. He took you to Texas to go to Danny’s wedding and to meet his Pa. He even got his mom’s ring from his dad but you don’t know that yet. His fingers curl deep inside of you as he sucks on your clit and the phone starts to ring. “Shit.” You hiss, trying to push his head away but he pulls back to growl “leave it.”

You pant, “it might be - fuck - important. It’s early.” You tell him but he ignores you, focusing again on making you cum. The phone rings again, “Javi.” You whine, hand reaching for the receiver but he slaps it down with his free hand, silently telling you to leave it again. His fingers push deeper and he can tell you’re close. His digits curl just right and you clamp down, crying out his name just as the phone rings again. He works you through it as much as he can before he’s pulling his soaked fingers out of you and grabbing the phone from the cradle. “Why the fuck are you calling so early?” He growls down the phone without asking who it is.

“Agent Peña.” The official voice makes him sit up. “Yeah?” He asks, voice raspy.

“The Cali Cartel. It’s time. You’re reassigned back to Colombia. I’ll call later with your flight details.” The line goes dead and he stares at it, unable to respond or say anything at all.

“What-“ you sit up and frown as he stares at the phone. “Baby, who was that?” You ask, worried that something is wrong. You know they’ve captured Escobar, Javi had gotten the news from Steve, getting drunk that night and pulling you apart for hours as fucked through his emotions.

Javier swallows, setting the phone back down and he closes his eyes for a second, unable to look at you. “I’ve been reassigned. They want me back in Colombia to take down Cali.” He reveals, his heart aching.

You hear it in his tone, he wants to go. “Oh.” Pulling the sheet over your body, you sit up, watching him start to pull away from you. “Then you have to go.” You decide, pushing away your own heartache. “They are giving you a second chance, to do it right this time. You have to go.”

Javier is torn. He wants to do it right. Take down Cali the right way and redeem himself. Yet he also doesn’t want to lose you. “I- I don’t know.” He confesses, knowing you won’t wait for him again. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Javi.” You cup his cheeks and press your lips to his. “You go to Colombia and you do what you need to do.” You tell him softly. “You want to go….so go.”

“I don’t want - I can’t leave you. I don’t want to be gone and come back to find you’ve moved on. I know we love each other but I can’t ask for you to wait for me again. I want…I want you to come with me.” He says, even though he knows the risks. He can protect you.

“W-What? Come- come with you?” You hadn’t even considered it a possibility. “The DEA would let you bring me? How?” You can’t imagine they would want to have some random civilian in the country and possibly in danger.

He nods, "Steve brought Connie. She - she was a civilian." He explains, "I don't want to lose you." He confesses, "Do you want to come with me?"

“Connie’s Steve’s wife.” You remind Javi softly. “Of course I want to come with you, but I don’t think the DEA will let you bring your girlfriend.” You admit. “You aren’t going to lose me.”

He swallows harshly, knowing you’re not wrong. “They might not let me bring my girlfriend but they’d let me bring my fiancée.” He says and you frown, “fiancée?” He sighs, opening the bedside table to grab the velvet box he had hidden in there. “I was going to take you to dinner on Friday. Make it romantic but - but I don’t want to wait.” He confesses and your eyes widen. He shifts to kneel at the edge of the bed in front of you. “You came into my life so unexpectedly and I- I don’t regret saving you from Escobar. You were the missing piece of me that I didn’t know was gone. You make me so damn happy and I know I’m bad with words but I love you with every fiber of my being. I’d do anything to keep you safe, to make you happy. Will you marry me?” He asks, opening the box.

“Jav- I-“ your throat closes as your eyes fill with tears, looking down at your love on his knee as he asks you to marry him. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I will marry you.” Launching yourself forward, you crash into him, needing to kiss him once more to remind you that this isn’t a dream.

He kisses with a smile on his lips, pouring every ounce of love he feels for you into the kiss. He pulls back after a second to get the ring out of the box. He remembers proposing to Lori and he didn’t really feel much at the time, doing it out of obligation. Right now, he’s asking you to marry him because he loves you with all of him. He takes the ring out and takes your shaking hand, sliding the ring onto your left hand.

“It’s beautiful, amor.” You gasp, looking down at the ring in awe. It really is beautiful, but beyond that, it’s the realization that Javi wants to spend the rest of his life with you. “I love it and I love you.” You promise, leaning in to kiss him again. “My fiancé.”

****

Javier looks out across the ocean, the sun is about to set and he clears his throat as the breeze makes the linen shirt he’s wearing blow up slightly. “She’s here.” The officiant announces and Javier exhales shakily, turning away from the water to see an even more exquisite sight.

God, you take his breath away. Walking towards him wearing a white sundress, he swears his heart is about to pound out of his chest. When you stand before him, he reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “You look gorgeous, baby.” He murmurs when he stands up straight but keeps your hand in his.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” You admit, amazed by the beautiful, small wedding he had insisted on. It was gorgeously simple and yet the pinks and oranges streaking across the sky is something that could have never been replicated in a fancy church somewhere. “I love you so much.”

Javier smiles, “I love you too.” He takes your hands as you stand beside him and the officiant begins the ceremony. His stomach is twisting but not with nerves, it’s butterflies and excitement. Knowing that after this, you’ll be his wife. He never imagined he’d settle down but you changed that for him. He can’t imagine a day without you now. He squeezes your hands when you recite the vows and he proudly declares “I do” when asked if he wants to take you as his wife. The rest of the ceremony seems like a blur until the officiant says “you may now kiss the bride.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, your rings shining on your finger as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. “I love you.” He murmurs into your mouth before he kisses you again.

Smiling against his lips, you sigh softly. “I love you too.” You never expected to find the love of your life when you had been kidnapped and given to one of the world’s most famous drug dealers in the world’s sicarios. It could have turned out to be your worst nightmare, but it ended up being your dream come true.

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

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candycandy00 · 6 months

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The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Oral sex. Fingering. Use of aphrodisiacs. Divider by @benkeibear!

Toji looks down at the doll sitting on her knees between his parted thighs, running her wet tongue along the underside of his cock, from his balls to his tip. She takes as much of him into her mouth as possible, but he’s just too big. Any more than halfway and she’s choking. Doesn’t stop her from trying though, bless her cock hungry little heart.

It’s been nearly two weeks since he began training her, and she’s gotten extremely good at giving head. She pays close attention to what Toji likes, what little movements or techniques make him grunt or twitch. Usually the dolls he trains are so focused on their own pleasure, on satisfying their own hunger for dick, that they don’t put much effort into pleasing him.

There are several ways this doll is different. Like usual, he fucks every hole she has every single day, normally multiple times. And like any other doll she begs for it, constantly wanting to be stuffed full of him. She can take all of him now, though she’s still so tight it feels like his dick is in a vice grip when it’s buried in that tiny pussy of hers.

But unlike any other doll, she wants more from him. She asks him questions about himself all the time. What’s his favorite color? His favorite food? What types of music does he like? Where did he grow up? What’s his family like?

He’s answered some of these, and she was surprised when he told her he has a son. But then she smiled and said, “I hope I can meet him someday.”

“You might get to,” he’d told her. “Whenever I can’t find someone to watch him, I have to bring him to work with me.”

She’d gaped at him with a horrified expression. “You bring your son here?!”

He’d laughed then. “Don’t look at me that way! It’s not like I bring him into the room to watch! I hooked a PlayStation up in one of the empty rooms. I leave him in there with some snacks and he’s fine. I tell the other trainers so they can make sure their dolls are dressed in the dining hall.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound as terrible as I thought,” she said. “It’s still not good though. I mean he knows what goes on here, right? Or at least has a vague idea.”

Toji had shrugged. “I don’t know what that kid is aware of. He hardly speaks to me. But he gets along with the others. It’s like he has four cool uncles.”

“Don’t you mean five?”

Toji grimaced. “Sukuna isn’t allowed to speak to him anymore. One day my kid asked him why there was always screaming coming from his room. He could have made up anything. But he looks my nine year old right in the face and says, ‘Because I’m torturing a woman in there.’ After that, Sukuna’s cool uncle privileges were revoked.”

She had laughed, despite being mildly disturbed. He’d laughed too, and it struck him then: he’d never had a conversation like this with a doll he was training. It was all sex all the time. They didn’t care about his personal life and he didn’t care about theirs. They had nothing to talk about besides what was for dinner or where he wanted them to bend over next.

He was reminded of the times he’d chatted with her in the convenience store. She’d always been so easy to talk to, so friendly and cheerful. He tries not to remember that. He’s always made a conscious effort to not view his dolls as people with lives outside this house. Because that makes it easier to fuck them over and over again and then turn them over to the next guy who will do the same. All the dolls accepted to the Doll House willingly sign their contracts. The owner doesn’t take women who are clearly being sold off against their will, but most of them sign because they’re desperate in some way. Toji prefers not to think about that.

But this new doll actually wants to get to know him. He knows he shouldn’t encourage that behavior, but she was already in love with him before the training started. Is there any point in trying to keep her from getting too attached?

Even the way she sucks his cock is different. She absolutely devours it, taking it so far down her throat that it feels like she’s trying to swallow it, but the way she looks at it, and him in general, is different. She doesn’t just look at him with lust in her eyes. There’s a genuine affection he hasn’t seen since… Well, he hasn’t seen it in a long time.

And when he cums in her mouth, completely coating her throat, tongue, lips, she looks up at his face and smiles so sweetly. Like he just did her a favor.

A shame she won’t be reserving that look for him much longer.

********************

You get to your feet as you lick your lips, making sure to swallow every last drop of Toji’s beloved cum. You’re not satisfied. Not in the least. It’s late in the evening and he’s only fucked your pussy once today. So you go over to the dresser and bend over onto it, looking behind you and wiggling your bare ass.

“Toji… fill me up, please?”

He gets up from the chair he’d been sitting in and saunters over to you, his slow pace driving you mad. He’s still dressed, but his pants are unzipped and his still hard cock is hanging out. The “aphrodisiacs” you both take every day have some strange side effects. One of them being Toji’s ability to stay hard even after cumming multiple times.

Lately he’s been increasing the dose he gives you. You’re not sure why. You don’t think you even need it to begin with. You spent countless nights touching yourself while imagining being fucked by him, way before he ever gave you the first dose. But he’s the trainer, and you agreed to do as he said.

He doesn’t really have any rules aside from insisting you take the aphrodisiacs. You can go anywhere in the house aside from the other trainers’ personal rooms and can even leave the house if you want, so long as you return by nightfall. You’ve never left since you got here though. You don’t want to waste a single moment that you could be spending with Toji.

One of the biggest perks of being his doll is that you’ve been given a front row seat to his life. You get to see exactly how he spends his time, what his routines are.

Every morning he takes a shower, grabs breakfast in the dining hall (sometimes you go with him and the two of you eat there together but most often he simply brings two plates back to his room), and then the two of you spend a few hours doing various things. Mostly fucking, though sometimes things get a little adventurous and you play strip poker together or even watch each other masturbate at the same time. Toji doesn’t seem picky about the activity. As long as it results in him cumming multiple times in a row, he’s up for anything.

Lunch is always snacks or microwaved meals from the convenience store. He doesn’t seem to like what’s usually on the lunch menu in the dining hall. You sometimes get lunch there by yourself.

In the afternoons, Toji often works out. There’s an exercise room at the house with some pretty impressive equipment. You suppose that explains how all the trainers have such perfect physiques. You love watching Toji lift weights or even run on the treadmill, your eyes glued to his sculpted form as his muscles move beneath his clothes. By the time he’s finished, you’re absolutely drenched and practically dragging him back to his room. Once you were so horny you locked the door to the exercise room and hiked your skirt up while he was doing pull ups. You ended up hanging from the bar by your trembling hands while he fucked you mercilessly from below.

On some evenings, Toji goes to check on his son Megumi. You hate being without him for a couple of hours, but you understand that it’s important for him to go. You’re dying to ask about Megumi’s mother. You know she’s no longer in the picture, as Megumi is staying with other relatives, but you don’t know if she died or just ran off and abandoned the family. You’ve danced around the edges of the topic, but never directly addressed it.

There’s a sorrow buried deep in Toji’s eyes whenever you get close to mentioning her, when you ask other, related questions hoping to get more information. “Why is Megumi staying with relatives?” “Does he look more like you?” “What did you do before you became a trainer?” All were asked in the hopes that he would talk about her, but he very pointedly never mentioned her. So you’ve stopped asking those sorts of questions. Obviously, thinking about her hurts him, and you love him enough to want to avoid that.

Now, as Toji grips your waist with his large, strong hands and rams his enormous cock into your eager pussy, you lose track of your thoughts. The only thing on your mind is the feeling of his powerful thrusts, the rhythm he builds, his skin against yours.

You’re bent over the dresser, the few items he has there scattered across the floor now. You can see him in the mirror behind you, can see his handsome face, slightly flushed from the exertion of absolutely pounding you. He sees your reflection watching him and grins at you, the charming scar on his mouth stretching slightly. As if to give you a treat, he pulls his shirt over his head, allowing you to get a good look at his muscular body.

After a moment, you glance at your own face in the mirror, and hardly recognize it. Your hair is a mess, your face red, your mouth hanging slightly open, a sheen on your lips from Toji’s cum, and your eyes… They look different somehow, like tinted glass. Is this what they call a “blissed out” face?

“Harder,” you mutter between moans.

“What was that?” Toji asks.

“Harder! Please!” you cry, suddenly feeling like it’s not enough unless he’s all the way in you womb. Is this because of the aphrodisiacs? You’re so needy today.

He leans over onto you, his chest against your back, and whispers, “Sure you can handle that?”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. “I can handle anything if it’s from you.”

“If you say so,” he says, then suddenly straightens up and lifts you into the air, holding you in front of him by your hips. You’re folded in half in midair, your arms and legs dangling above the floor. You look in the mirror and watch him relentlessly drill into your limp body, with you hanging in front of him like a literal rag doll.

“Ahhh… Toji! S-so deep…” you cry out, your body jerking in time with his thrusts.

*****************

The doll feels light as a feather in Toji’s grasp as he holds her body in front of him, fucking her so hard she has tears in her eyes. But she wants this, evidenced by the look of sheer joy on her face, the pretty lilting moans floating up from her lips.

There’s something lurid about how small and helpless she looks in the mirror, as he literally uses her body like a living fleshlight, when combined with her obvious arousal. The “aphrodisiacs”, as he calls them, are working. She’s becoming more and more obsessed with having his cock inside her, with being fucked as hard as possible. This is the key to his training: making the dolls want to be fucked all the time. Making them hungry for it.

Dolls trained by Toji are in high demand among straight male buyers. After all, who among them doesn’t want a beautiful woman who constantly begs for their dick? The other trainers cater to more specialized tastes, but Toji covers a wider clientele.

Getting his dolls hooked on his dick isn’t that hard. Toji is aware that he’s attractive. He may not be “pretty” like Gojo or Geto, but he’s got the sort of body that almost everyone who likes men finds irresistible. And he’s very good at what he does. He knows exactly how to hit every sweet spot, how to make women cum repeatedly on his cock.

No, the challenge is in getting his dolls hooked on cock in general, so that their addiction to him will easily transfer to their owners. The Doll House is a classy establishment. They’re picky about their buyers. So while they may not all be handsome, at the very least, none of them are disgusting. Personal hygiene, dressing well, and having a background free of violence are all very important.

But this doll claims to be in love with Toji, says she’s had feelings for him for two years. Getting her to transfer those feelings will definitely be a tough job. But Toji can do it. His training is thorough. Looking at her glazed eyes in the mirror, he can see that she’s losing herself to the pleasure.

He rams into her, hitting a spot that makes her scream, and then she’s cumming, twitching in his grip. Her pussy is already ridiculously tight, but when she climaxes she clamps down on him, squeezing him until he fills her completely with his cum.

She’s still quivering as he pulls her off his cock and flips her around, now holding her in his arms bridal style. She curls against his chest, her face nearly hidden. “I love you, Toji.”

He carries her to the bed and covers her up, then steps out of the room. He hears voices from the dining hall, so he follows them to find Gojo and Nanami sitting at one of the tables, talking. It’s way past dinner time, so it’s no surprise that the room is empty aside from them. There’s a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of Nanami and in front of Gojo, some sort of ice cream-cookie-brownie monstrosity that makes Toji’s teeth hurt just to look at.

Toji walks over to the table but doesn’t sit down. He looks at Gojo and says, “You’re between dolls right now, right?”

Gojo grins as he shoves a spoonful of dessert into his mouth. “Yeah. My little puppy princess left yesterday. Why?” But before Toji can answer, Gojo says, “Oh right! It’s about that time, huh?”

Toji nods. “So can you come around this time tomorrow night?”

Gojo gives him a thumbs up while he chews, then replies after swallowing. “I’ll be there!”

Nanami looks at both of them with disapproval, but doesn’t say anything, instead taking a drink of his coffee. He’s between dolls as well, but Toji knows better than to ask for his help.

Part of Toji’s training is getting his dolls to want cock even if it’s not his. And so, after a couple of weeks, he gets his fellow trainers to help out by fucking the doll he’s training. Nanami refused the first time Toji asked, and made it clear he would never change his mind. The others will usually do it if they’re not currently training a doll. Sukuna will regardless of whether or not he has a doll at the time, but Toji prefers not to ask him. The man is a bit unsettling even to the other trainers.

Gojo is Toji’s first pick. The man can drive women wild with a glance, and Toji’s dolls are always excited about the chance to fuck him.

After confirming the plans with Gojo, Toji returns to his room and sits down on the bed next to his sleeping doll. She’s smiling in her sleep, probably dreaming of being fucked real good. He brushes the hair from her face with one hand, wondering, far from the first time, what she could possibly love about him.

“Poor thing,” he says quietly. “You’re gonna lose this bet.”

*********************

The next morning, after breakfast, Toji gives you the slightly increased dose of aphrodisiacs. Within minutes you feel the familiar heat spreading through your body, the building urge to tear your clothes off and fling yourself into Toji’s arms.

As your mind races through different ideas for sexy shenanigans you can get into today, Toji sits down in one of the two chairs in his room and says, “I think I’m coming down with something.” For emphasis, he coughs lightly.

You look up at him in alarm. “Oh no, are you feeling sick? What’s bothering you?”

He rubs his neck. “My throat’s a little sore. I’ll be fine in a day or two. I never stay sick long. But I better not exert myself today.”

You nod, understanding what he means. No wild fucking today. You wish he’d told you this before giving you the aphrodisiac, but what’s done is done. You walk over to him. “I can just suck you off today. That would be okay, right?”

He stops you before you can drop to your knees. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t wanna get my heart beating fast.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t think of that. Well can I do anything to make you feel better? A back rub? Or if they’ll let me use the kitchen I can make you some soup or…”

He holds a hand up to stop you. “No, you don’t need to do anything. Thanks anyway. I’m just gonna get some rest.”

You watch as he climbs into bed. You resist the urge to tuck him in. Acting like a wife might overstep a boundary for him. But now you’re left standing here, incredibly horny. With no other options available, you go to the bathroom to masturbate. It feels hollow and unsatisfying without Toji there to make it interesting, but it does ease a bit of the ache.

The rest of the day is spent watching tv on low volume so as not to disturb Toji’s rest, with frequent trips to the bathroom to relieve the pressure of your arousal. Once you even sit on the floor beside Toji’s bed and pleasure yourself to the sounds of his breathing. Have you always been this desperate?

At dinner, you go to the dining hall and fetch plates for the both you and Toji. You try to find foods that would make Toji feel better while also keeping his tastes in mind. When you wake him up, he eats the dinner you brought without complaint, and seems to be feeling better. Maybe he’s not getting sick after all? Maybe he’s just tired.

After he’s finished eating, he looks at the clock, then stands up and walks to the mini fridge. “Time for your evening dose,” he says.

You look at him in confusion. “Oh, I thought I wouldn’t be taking it tonight. With you feeling bad and all.”

He brings the bottle over and hands it to you. “You can’t just stop. Part of the training is getting your body used to this.”

You hold the cold bottle in your hands. “But today was really hard on me. I wanted you so bad but I couldn’t touch you. I don’t know if I can handle more of that.”

He grins at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight. Drink up.”

“Oh, are you feeling better now?” you ask, opening the lid and downing the liquid.

“Not really,” Toji says, “but I’ve made arrangements to make sure you’re satisfied.”

What does that mean? Did he get some toys to use while he’s sick? That’s not exactly satisfying but you suppose if Toji is the one using them on you, they could be fun.

Almost immediately, you feel it. The aphrodisiacs have never hit you this fast before, or this hard. You’re suddenly feverish, your face flushing red, your skin feeling prickly. There’s a growing dampness between your legs, and you drop into the nearby chair, your arms wrapped around yourself, your thighs pressed tightly together.

“Toji… I think something’s wrong.”

He looks at you calmly. “What do you mean?” he asks, though you get the impression he knows exactly what you mean.

“I’m feeling it too much. It’s… too strong,” you mutter, your body beginning to tremble. You stand up and cross the room to him. “Please fuck me! I can’t wait any longer! You can use your fingers or… or anything!”

In your hysteria, you shove one hand under your skirt, rubbing yourself through your panties.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sick so I can’t take care of you myself, but I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” Toji says, ushering you over to the bed and sitting you down on it.

Your mind can barely register what he’s saying. “Please, Toji! It’s like I’m on fire! Please make it stop! I need your cock inside me! I need-“

There’s a knock at Toji’s door. It’s such a rare occurrence that it distracts you from your madness. Toji goes to open it, and you watch, partly in a daze, as Gojo walks in. You’ve met him many times in the dining hall. He always seems friendly, and you remember thinking, the first time you saw him, that he’s a very beautiful man. He doesn’t compare to Toji, of course, but there’s an otherworldly quality to his features that’s quite striking.

Toji throws a casual arm around the other trainer. “Gojo here is gonna look after you tonight in my place.”

Gojo smiles at you, his blue eyes shining. “I’ll take real good care of you,” he says, walking towards you. “You might even like me better than Toji.”

Huh? What’s going on? Your mind is fuzzy. You look to Toji, and he gives you an approving nod. Gojo gently pushes you onto your back on the bed, then climbs on top of you. All your hazy mind can think is, “Wow, those eyes!” Is this beautiful person really going to fuck you? Toji said it’s okay. Hell, it was his idea! So it must be fine, right?

Your body is aching to be touched, to be fucked. And there’s a gorgeous man on top of you, squeezing your breasts through your shirt, kissing your neck. Ahhh, it feels so good! Your eyes slide closed as Gojo pushes your shirt up.

********************

Toji watches Gojo kiss and grope at his doll, in his bed. He’s seen this sight many times before. If not Gojo, it was one of the other trainers. And in all Toji’s years working here, he’s never once been bothered by it. After all, these women didn’t belong to him. He felt no jealousy, no possessiveness.

So why does he feel so irritated now, watching Gojo grind his still clothed body against this doll as he slowly pulls her clothes off, leaving her in nothing but panties. Gojo’s tongue on her nipple, Gojo’s fingers stroking her pussy through the fabric, the sharp little moans she’s making…. All of it irritates Toji. He’s almost definitely won the bet now, but he doesn’t feel like he’s won anything. In fact, he feels like he just lost something.

He looks away, turning his back to the scene. But just a moment later, he hears her voice.

“Wait.”

Toji turns back to look at the bed, where the doll has her hands on Gojo’s chest, pushing him back.

Gojo has stopped touching her and looks down. “Something wrong?”

She glances at Toji and then back to Gojo. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this with you. I appreciate you offering to help me out, but the only person I want is Toji.”

Gojo gives her a sultry look that would make most women buckle. “Are you sure?”

She nods, her face still flushed, her eyes still glazed. “I’m sure.”

Gojo gets up from the bed and heads for the door. He opens it, then turns back with a smile and says, “See you guys tomorrow!”

Then he’s gone, and Toji is left alone in the room with his very cute, very horny, mostly naked doll. She’s still lying in his bed, breathing hard, staring at him. “I only want you,” she says. “I’ll wait for you. I can endure this until you feel better.”

Suddenly he wants to fuck her more than he ever has before. No doll he’s trained had turned down sex with Gojo before, especially not when they were pumped full of his special “aphrodisiacs” and he’d deprived them of sex all day.

Maybe Gojo just isn’t her type? It sure didn’t seem that way when Gojo was on top of her. And with his training, she should want sex with anyone.

He walks over to the bed, his legs carrying him there as if they have a mind of their own. His cock certainly does. It’s been achingly hard all day, even when he was pretending to be asleep. Hearing her quiet moans coming from the bathroom, and even from a few feet away from him, knowing what she was doing and what she wanted from him… it was agony.

Before he even thinks his actions through, he’s got one hand on her panties, ripping them off with one yank. She gives a little cry of surprise, but her face lights up with joy as she opens her legs to him. Her pussy is glistening with arousal, waiting for him.

He doesn’t waste any time. He ignores her questions about how he’s feeling. Right now, he just needs to be completely buried inside her. So he climbs onto the bed while pulling his cock out of his pants, lifts one of her legs into the air while rolling her onto her side, and plunges into her.

As he rails her there on the bed, he can’t help thinking about the fact that it was almost Gojo doing this. Almost Gojo getting to sheath himself in this sweet, warm, wet little pussy. A pussy meant for Toji.

From this angle, he can see her face, turned sideways on the pillow. It looks like she’s crying, but it must be tears of happiness, because she’s on the edge of cumming already.

“Toji… Toji… Toji!”

Hearing her gasp out his name as her pussy desperately clenches his cock does something to him. And before long he’s shooting his load into her body, then watching it ooze out after separating from her. He’s still hard, and she’s still not satisfied. So he rolls her over to start again.

He’ll have to try something else later. Maybe a different trainer or stronger “aphrodisiacs”. But for right now, in this moment, he only wants to fuck her until she can no longer move.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk x reader #Jjk smut

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serosblunt · 1 year

Text

~ Hanta Sero x Reader ~

My Darling, My God

Hanta Sero x (Female) Reader

NSFW, 18+

Warnings: Mentions of smut (mutual masturbation, cumming untouched), mentions of weed/smoking, alcohol, mentions of god. Reader uses female pronouns and has female anatomy.

Word count: 800 words

A/N: I don’t own the fan art or rights to it. If you know the artist, please let me know so I can credit them.

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

On occasion, Hanta will choose to sink back into the darkness that resides at the end of your bedroom. He takes up the chair that sits in its place, right where he expects it to be, unmoving since he last made use of it.

The dull shards of remaining light peaking through the curtains reflect off of his crystal glass, drawing your attention towards his muscular forearms, which remain similarly illuminated.

That alone was enough to pique your interest.

He holds an air of mystery about him, yet somehow not one part of you is scared of the total authority he has over you in that moment.

After all, what’s yours is his.

Small crackles fill the air as a sickeningly familiar scent floods your nose. He leant forward then, sleeves rolled up to show off his admirable quirk. Placing the drink on the floor and taking a steadying drag, he instructed you to seek your pleasure, for both his benefit and yours.

His hair had grown out since you first met him, and every now and again, a strand found its way out of his loosely tied bun across his forehead. Your fingers itched to brush them from his eyes.

But they had been assigned to other, equally pleasurable roles.

He watched, eyes unmoving and completely focused, despite his obstructed view. Nothing would ever tear him away from the sight of you laid out for him.

This was his worship. You were the only god he would ever bow to and the only alter he could ever hope to pray at, from now until the end of his days. It is through nights like these that he clutches to your memory, over and over again like a broken record that he will never tire of.

Inhalations of smoke slowed, eventually stopping altogether, as the sight of you became the only intoxication he needed.

“My beautiful girl,” he said with a voice like silk, as your fingers continued to dance aimlessly over your skin; a poor imitation of the way Sero caressed you night after night. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Your eyes locked, both heart and core fluttered at his next silent command. You allowed a hand to drift lower and lower down your plush body, being sure not to rush the process.

After all, this was all for him. It was the thing he dreamt about, begged for as though he would not get the chance again, as he moaned into your mouth not an hour earlier.

Over and over, night after night, lower and lower.

Two fingers found their target, that sensitive button laying so vulnerably between folds of flesh. A shiver ran through you as you begun your ministrations again.

Growing eager, Hanta found purchase on the edge of his seat, neglected cock throbbing against the confines of his dress pants, but this only spurred him on more.

This to him, was indescribable. So intimate and forged from a love and desire so deep he was sure no others could compete with it.

His girl, his girl, was falling apart for him under his gaze. And he was the only one granted the privilege of viewing the heavenly scene.

Nothing on earth drove him as fucking wild as that thought alone did.

He had begun to salivate as his eyes drank in every inch of you. His body craved you more and more with each passing second.

The long haired man’s elevated breathing and paired animistic gaze told you all you needed to know.

He might as well have been on his knees for you. Your walls tensed around emptiness as you thought to yourself that should you ask, he would fall on the sword for you, crawl from one end of the earth to the other to make you happy.

Anything for his queen.

“Don’t wait for my word, princess,” his voice came breathy and restrained, “when you’re ready, let go for me. Need’a see you feel good for me.”

He knew he was losing control of himself and he couldn’t have cared less. Moans he could no longer be bothered to contain synchronised with your own, and his tongue was practically lulling out of his mouth at the thought of getting just one little taste of your sweet, sweet nectar; a luxury that you both knew would come later.

Needless to say, Sero never needed to touch himself when he watched you in this way.

You considered it one of your biggest achievements that you could make your pro-hero fiancé cum untouched, simply by getting yourself off.

And damn if that thought didn’t have you both seeing stars.

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

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dootznbootz · 3 months

Text

I feel kind of bad about that post I made talking about how Odysseus would never sacrifice his family to save his own skin while I didn't give a name, I hope that person doesn't feel bad or that they get hate. As I don't want to gatekeep someone's interpretation of the Odyssey but also...while I guess you could claim that he would do that, there's so much MORE evidence as to how he would literally rather be stabbed than see his wife and son have even a splinter

Her rejecting him at first put him in a bad position. Honestly, in an alternate universe, where she didn't accept him or trick him that night, I think the poor guy would've cried himself to sleep again in that separate cot. He'd probably cry to Athena and ask if he did something wrong.

It would probably be an "awkward morning" of Odysseus and Penelope silently doing their things (not bringing up suitors' parents right now. And Odysseus would probably tell Telemachus to not say anything stupid.) and eventually, everything would bubble up out of Odysseus and honestly, I could see him straight up begging her to accept him. Not even caring about how he appeared to others.

Honestly, if she DID take a lover in that time...I think he'd either accept it and just...wander? Around Ithaca as a beggar as he doesn't want to be away from them but if they won't accept him, what else can he do? OR if she had another lover, (War flashback of the shitty retelling where Penelope has an affair) he'd probably kill the lover as let's be honest, Odysseus is basically a Yandere, to put it simply. Touch the wife, you get the knife.

And yeah, he doesn't JUST want his family.

"Oh, he wants to not be in constant danger."

"He just wants to go back to Ithaca."

"He wants to be king again."

Boy howdy, he sure does!!! But if, for example, Penelope and Telemachus for some reason moved to somewhere else? IDK, AU where they permanently moved to Sparta, hanging with Helen and Menelaus, and she didn't remarry or something. He'd be like "Shit, okay, BRB." And go to them. He'd probably have them all go back to Ithaca but still, THEY ARE HIS HOME. They make Ithaca home. Any place is home as long as he has them.

Despite having the opportunity to wed the most beautiful woman in the world, he took the Oath so then he could marry Penelope. And even then, it wasn't "for sure" as he had to race her dad. He did so much simply to have the CHANCE to marry her even though he probably wasn't planning on getting married as he brought no gifts. And he did so much so then he wouldn't have to leave the life they had built together and their young baby.

He could've had ANYONE. Went ANYWHERE. Did ANYTHING and he still wanted THEM.

Like??? Holy shit. This guy would do ANYTHING for them. I mean that's kind of why he's considered to be so "scummy" in how ride or die he is for them and basically a bitch to everyone else. That's what makes him SO different from many of his peers.

Person: Would you rather have your family- Odysseus: Family, always. Person: I didn't even say it yet- Odysseus: I don't fucking care. Always family. Person: Even if it meant you got immortality and a hot goddess for a wife? Odysseus: You act like that's a good thing? That was literally torture. Fuck you. I already have a hot Water Wife™ that I get the privilege to drown in every day. She gave me a wonderful Water Son™ who is the light of my eyes and who I am more proud to be the father of than I am of being the son of an Argonaut Person: Even if I give you a million dollars? Odysseus, acting nonchalant while Penelope picks the person's pockets: As if we can't get that on our own. Person: You'd die? Odysseus: I'll set myself on fire if I have to. Person: ...Okay, new question. Would you rather lose your family- Odysseus: The other option. Always. Person: Even torture? Odysseus: I never said I would like it, just that I would do it. Person: Even yeet a baby?! Odysseus: I'll punt the baby if I have to. It's not like I wanna but I gotta do what I gotta do.

And so on and so forth. You GET IT.

#It's technically not enough as I will not shut up about them EVER but yeah. I have cat on lap. I have a cookie. aaaaaaaaaaaa #I did mean for this to be an apology and it became a rant again. I'm so sorry. but yeah... :'D I'm so fucking sorry. I'm such a bitch #I realized that there really wasn't the best evidence for this idea of him saving himself. there's more evidence to COUNTER that.#I mean he could've killed Penelope because she rejected him at first. HE was at risk because she didn't accept him.#and while he was REALLY fucking hurt and called her cruel. he STILL let her have their bed. Their fancy bed that represented THEM #that he refused to sleep in any other bed but that one but if she's not in it with him? There's no point.#It's not a marriage bed if he can't have the marriage that it represents with it.#sad au where Odysseus isn't accepted and he just...stays and watches... can't even move on because he doesn't want anything else #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #let's be real. Odysseus is against drowning but if it's from the Water Wife???👀 He'd be fine sinking to the bottom of the “river”#“Get in the Water” sung by Penelope would be a COMPLETELY different...tune.#*coughs*#I feel so insane right now. Yahoo #sdkjfskldjf #essay

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omnipah · 3 months

Note

for the ship ask meme: john and arthur malevolent?

haha. you have caught me at possibly the best/worst time to ask this because i have just started catching up on malevolent and had to stop 1/3 of the way through an episode cus i was so mad. so. schroedinger's ship.

Ship It

What made you ship it?

the inherent eroticism of a parasite, obviously

What are your favorite things about the ship?

there is such a fascinatingly blurred line between 'toxically codependent because they literally have to be around each other with no breaks 24/7' and 'weirdly healthy relationship because they have to figure out their differences because they have to be around each other with no breaks 24/7'

also the specific mechanics of the body-sharing, not just the basic idea of mutually excusive control of the parts of the body (though that's also just really cool), but also the fucking Symbolism of. he's your literal left hand man. he's your advisor because you can't make decisions without the information he provides but you cannot know if he's trustworthy. he's also a better person than you ever will be because he has reason to prompt him to try, whereas you have the privilege of thinking you're good by default. he has all the control he can't do anything without you. he has to beg you to see his point of view to be able to act on the world and make choies. this is just turning into john doe propaganda i'm realising

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

i mean. if i really have to pick just one then it's gotta be that i cannot understand people who ship them in a way that has bodily separation as an end-goal. like. first of all if you aren't here for the gay possession why are you listening to the gay possession show. secondly they are a system and that's good and interesting. they shouldn't have to be separate for you to see them as whole, functioning people. thirdly, and this is more corollary than directly to do with their separation, if i have to see one more person give arthur his sight back after they separate i'm gonna start biting

Don’t Ship It

Why don’t you ship it?

if harlan wanted me to be interested in this ship (and i know he does because he's baiting everyone to hell and back) then the least he could do is actually respect both characters in it, and not treat one of them as if he's always right despite him being objectively horrible, while treating the other like he's not a full person and can't make decisions or be trusted with his own emotions or growth

What would have made you like it?

JOHN. DOE. DESERVES. BETTER.

in particular i do think it'd be good for both the ship and the story if someone other than arthur knew about john and talked to him and allowed him to have relationships. i mean we can still have the codependency and the jealousy as a treat but. also john needs friends so he's not entirely defined by arthur, and i think it'd be interesting to see how he learns to communicate with people who can't hear him

also just fucking once i would like to see arthur concede to john about something important rather than the story constantly treating john like he's hysterical and needs to grow up whenever he has an issue with what arthur does or says

Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

listen to me. i am taking you by the hand and looking deep into your eyes. these characters have so much fucking potential. they're so fascinating. it's so good. just please actually do something with it. and also have some basic empathy.

#ask me #malevolent #masked #zero thoughts #thanks for asking i love to throw rocks at hornets' nests <3

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russosafehaven · 1 year

Text

Setbacks - 4

Pairing: Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Content: SH, Relapse, Suicide, CSA, COCSA, Abusive Family, Various kinds of abuse, Step-Family abuse, Basically dark content because I’m not in a great headspace and I live vicariously through my writing

POV: Second

BR Taglist: @snowkestrel @judig92

Setbacks Taglist: @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

They say trust is something we earn. That it is not something we randomly give. Trust is a privilege to have and we must prove that we deserve to be trusted. So why are we expected to blindly trust our family or step family? Is it because they are blood they remain an exception? Even then they should still have to go through the trials and tribulations to earn the trust that society has deemed sacred.

That’s what you thought anyways. As you walk with Matthew up to his apartment you can’t help but wonder why you had trusted Billy. Was it because his skin was scarred like yours? Was it the fact he looked after you like your own family couldn’t? Or were you simply looking for the male validation you’d never gotten? Many questions and yet no answers came.

Matt unlocked his apartment and ushered you inside. The two of you were quite close despite the circumstances of your friendship. He, a devout Catholic and protector of the city while you held no beliefs and were nothing but a mere suicidal. Walking over to the couch you spared no hesitation to plunge into the fabric.

Unbeknownst to you Billy was doing anything he could to find you. He was angry, clear as day. Since the incident that led to the scars he lost his emotional regulation. Billy was nothing but pure emotion at any given time. Raw and ready to attack.

“Bill calm down, we’ll find her”

He knew he should believe Frank, believe the man he called his brother. Even if there were no biological connections they were bonded by blood spilt in war. The group of four had David or as he liked to be called Micro doing his computer stuff. He had happened to be in the area and agreed to drop by. While Micro had remained on edge around the scarred man he seemed comfortable enough around Frank and Dinah. The teenage girl, Amy, had taken an immediate liking to the computer nerd and the two were reminiscence of how David was with Leo.

“She went into a church and then left 30 minutes later hand in hand with a blind guy?”

David spun around looking at the three adults. Frank strutted over to peer at the screen. He let out a grunt and clapped his face.

“How the fuck does this girl know Red?”

Dinah was the next to catch a glimpse on the screen. The woman couldn’t help but let out a restrained chuckle. Back when the Punisher was no more than a legal case she had followed it closely, even while on the other side of the country.

“Is that one of your lawyers?”

She asked, poking fun at the deadly man. Frank could choke her out right now and everyone knew it, but the two had a layered relationship. They almost acted like siblings when looking from afar. Billy beelined towards the door and Frank knew what was happening.

“Fuck… I don’t think any of this is a good idea but it’s better if I take you to Red’s. You have no fucking clue where we’re going. David thank you for,”

Instead of verbalising his thanks Frank mimicked the action of typing. It was a peculiar sight, this big gruff guy playing a game of charades but welcome nonetheless.

“Amy, you stay here and Madani if you’ve nowhere to be… maybe keep an eye on her”

With that the two men walked out. Billy set in finding you to all but beg for your forgiveness. Frank in hopes of stopping his brother from doing something he’ll regret more than he already has.

When Matt here’s Frank coming up the stairwell with an unfamiliar man he can’t help but let his curiosity pique. It wasn’t everyday the vigilante came to his place of residence. He made sure to check on you, your stitches all redone to hospital perfection. Whoever did them before did well but clearly lacked medical training. Matt had called Claire in hopes she could help out. He could’ve sworn the woman was going to adopt you in the spot. Even more-so when he could hear Claire’s heart breaking when you opened up to her.

When the heavy pounding rang out through the apartment Matt had expected you to wake up. You didn’t, you’d always been a sound sleeper. He’d hosted you many nights after a particular angry fight between you and your mother or when you felt uncomfortable at your own house. Before the man could even get a chance to open the door it was being broken down. The mystery man dashed in, heading straight to do whatever. Frank stood there awkwardly.

“Sorry Red, the girl. Billy knows her, become quite attached and well you know how we all fuck up with women”

If Matt’s eyes worked he would’ve been rolling them. The marine standing opposite must’ve picked up on the fact he was unimpressed as he could hear the side of his mouth perk up. Welcoming Frank into his apartment the two walked into the main living area. They were met with the scene of Billy kneeling on the ground, softly stroking the sleeping girl’s hair. Frank watched as his hands ran down to the stitches. Matthew on the other hand could feel the guilt that ran through Billy’s veins. Whatever must’ve happened was bad.

Both men could sense the heartache in Billy’s chest. As you stirred awake your eyes were met with the sight of the scarred man. You felt betrayal. Why was he the one crying? You’re the one who was hurt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say you were broken. Fuck… if anything I am. You’ve been through so much all I wanted to do was help… clearly it didn’t work out”

You smiled softly at the man. He apologised, it felt nice to get an apology. Although you’d never experienced one so raw and genuine. As a child you had heard a lot. After your father sexually assaulted you he would buy you ‘my little pony’ dolls so you would keep quiet. To make up for years of emotional abuse your step father got you a bird. Your mother would buy you treats in an effort to make up with you. Over the years you’d come to hate when apologies came with gifts. They weren’t real, they never were.

Billy was on his knees practically begging for you to forgive him. You reached out for his hand and he gave it you. The stitches from your slit wrists brushing against his skin. If Billy was there for you this would’ve never happened. He felt regret but he knew it wasn’t his time to feel badly.

“You apologised”

Your smile widened and across the room Frank frowned deeply. Why did you seem so shocked Billy would apologise? In his eyes the way he hurt you it only made sense for Billy to be sorry. Matt picked up on Frank’s confusion and lightly whispered why you seemed so shocked. A few light details of your story had Frank breaking. A young woman such as yourself should’ve never had to be put through that. What Frank heard wasn’t even the worst of it yet.

You sat up, sliding down on the floor next to Billy. Opening your arms you silently asked him for a hug. Like a child seeking comfort of their parents. At least that’s what you guessed happened. Affection was a tool for hurt in your family. Billy pulled you into his chest, nuzzling against the top of your head. His hug was almost crushing but the pressure was welcome. You hated light touch and the way Billy hugged you felt like a weighted blanket. You rubbed your face on his chest.

“Acting like a little kitty are we?”

With that you suck your teeth into his chest. Nibbling on his pecs through the fabric of his shirt. Billy laughed and he just held you closer. The two of you made sense for each other. In a morbid way of course. Both scarred, both unwanted by their parents, both assaulted by a man meant to look after them. Yet here you were, wanted by each other. Even through the bloodshed and misunderstandings, Billy would always be there to put you back together and you would always be there to hold him through the night.

#billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #the punisher imagine #the punisher #x reader #billy russo angst #frank castle #billy russo x yn #matt murdock

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hussyknee · 6 months

Note

Democrats gotta be livin in a alternate reality where Biden didn’t publicly accused Palestinians of blood libel, lying & inflating the death toll.

Liberals are fucking delusional, they can’t be out here telling people that if their Democratic candidate does not get elected then something worse will happen because the worse is already here under a Democrat as president. How can it be worse than a FUCKING GENOCIDE ??? What the liberals who say this stuff really mean is, “If you sit this election out, they might elect someone who would do all the things they’re already doing, but to *Americans*, the people who actually MATTERS.

Not just Americans, white Americans. Every other group is already suffering– anti-immigration crackdowns, cop city, a border wall going up, a healthcare system on the brink of collapse, wage slavery under a skyrocketing cost of living, white nationalism, auctioning off half the Gulf of Mexico to oil companies. And even though disabled, trans, poor and Jewish people in the US are all similar levels of endangered, white people in those communities still push this "blue or die" shit because they cannot wrap their heads around the fact that the US has gone so far right that their white privilege has almost no more currency. Most of them are newly poor despite having an education that prepared them to be middle class, and even those who grew up working class are now plunged into the kind of economic instability foreign to even their parents. They are now forced to live the reality that the majority of BIPOC has for generations with no point of reference or ability to adapt, so they cling to what they know. They absolutely refuse to listen to those who have known generational disenfranchisement and systemic exclusion because 1) centering themselves is second nature to them and 2) the problem they want solved is the loss of their white bourgeoisie privilege, not creating equitable resources by dismantling of power structures. Social justice for them is simply about finding a port in the storm, to harbour until their own conviction in the Just World Theory is rewarded and their privileges restored to them.

And the thing is that part of what they're saying is true— Biden's administration has very limited scope to do anything about most of it because these are systems of economic power entrenched in the US establishment, the nexus of which is military operations and contracts. I mean, once you have seen Trump, Biden, Hillary Clinton and Bernie fucking Sanders all take the same party line on Israel's right to raze Palestine to the ground, you cannot possibly have any more illusions left.

Or so you would think. White America is built on the myth that they live at the heart of democracy and enlightened civilization, and anything that contradicts this is an aberration or the work of bad faith actors. That's why they keep saying that the "system is broken" instead of recognizing that the system is actually functioning 100% the way it is meant to. It's why so many of them absolutely refuse to acknowledge that Israel is a settler colony, because America created Israel in its image, and it would mean grappling with the fact that it is also a genocidal settler colony, that they are colonists and beneficiaries of an imperial core that can only perpetuate itself through apartheid and militarization. That both Trump and Netanyahu are not aberrations but simply part of that same ouroboros of violence without the veneer of civility and apologia.

I keep thinking about that liberal white college girl in Knives Out. She made being progressive and an Ally™ her whole personality, defending Marta loudly, pushing back against the conservative politics of her family and earning Marta's trust. But the minute she realized her money was gone and her college fund was in danger, instead of trying to work out an alternative plan or beg Marta for help, she immediately capitulated to the rest of her family and tried to use the goodwill she has established with Marta to try and guilt her into giving up the money. Because approaching a poor Latina immigrant as an equal or from a disadvantaged position is completely anathema to white people across the political spectrum.

Liberals might have turned against Biden during Clinton's time, when more of them were comfortably affluent or had the means of becoming so. I mean, they impeached Clinton not for sexually exploiting his intern but for fucking adultery. But economically and socially destabilised whites will never take the moral high ground over their own interests, even, it would seem, when it comes to three solid weeks of seeing live footage of entire families blown apart, buried under rubble and their homes set on fire. The mask has finally fallen all the way off.

#asks #knee of huss #white liberals #white privilege #white supremacy #free palestine #american imperialism #gaza genocide #palestinian genocide #racism #colonization #genocide joe #fuck joe biden #israel is a terrorist state #military industrial complex #white queers #disability justice #ableism #ask to tag

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actuallyits-a · 1 year

Text

Prerogative

[pri-ˈrä-gə-tiv] noun

a right or privilege exclusive to a particular individual or class.

I've been waiting. Anxiously waiting.

In the university, we're supposed to pick our classes and set our own schedules according to the available classes and curriculum. For the past semesters, since I was a freshman, I always got the classes that I wanted. Sometimes, not the schedule that I want but always, always, all the classes and the units that I needed. It's different this time around. After the enlistment batch runs, I still lack 2 classes. 2 remaining classes before I graduate. I'm a graduating student and I should've had an edge, an advantage to others because of the priority ranking in the system. But, disappointingly, despite everything -- the listing of classes, the use of statistics and probability, strategically enlisting my classes, I still lack those two (2) classes.

Now, what I need to do to get those classes is to do, the so called, "prerog" or prerogative. Never in my academic life have I done this, and it sucks! It sucks really bad. I've been waiting on the waitlisted enlistments. And I hate waiting. I have that I'm not able to do anything about it. Don't get me wrong, I have emailed the offering department, begging them to give me a slot in their class. But as of now, there is still no response. The waitlisting period still has no results. All this waiting is giving me anxiety. The fear of not getting the needed class and the fear of not graduating on time haunts me.

Still haunts me.

I tell myself it's fine. Extending another semester is fine. Extending another term is fine. Not graduating this year is fine.

But it's already so close.

One last semester and I'm out of this institution-- out of the academe.

I'd have more time to plan for myself, make concrete plans for my life, have more time for my family and friends, and start making money. In a way, graduating would force me to grow up. Be independent, be more of an adult, take responsibilities, and of course, do what I want to do. And I want to grow up. I feel like a kid, and I want to outgrow that part of me to move forward in life.

sigh.

I already shared a lot.

Still want to share a lot more.

But some other time maybe.

Leaving this without resolution, unless I get into my classes tomorrow. It's Monday tomorrow and it's likely that they'll release those results by morning.

We're always hopeful.

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acradelius · 2 years

Note

some nsfw with ashe please? 👀

"Sweeter Than Sweet Iced Tea~"

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Elizabeth Caledonia "Calamity" Ashe x Reader

Rating: Lemon (NSFW!) [🟡]

Warnings/Mentions Ofs: Secretive Sex Life, Simply Sex- No Strings Attached, Being a Switch, Dominant, Submissive, "Mistress" terms, "Good Girl" terms, Singular Partners, Multiple Partners, Threesomes, Orgies, Preferences to the "Girls, Gays, and Theys", Denial, Teasing, Human x Human Sex, Human x Omnic Sex, Customizable Gentelia, Persuasion/Manipulation of sex with (Y/N) and others, "love and hate" sex, sex with Cassidy.

Word Count: 714 Words

Author's Note: Ex-queeze me, you have some explaining to do that caused this to come out. Like insert that one "gawd damn" tik tok sound here bestie.

Elizabeth Caledonia “Calamity” Ashe. Surrounded by wealth and privilege as a young child, ensured by her Mommy and Daddy’s “old money” that she would have every opportunity to succeed. And succeeded she did, becoming a respected figure within the criminal underworld. The leader of the famous Deadlock Gang, her being ambitious and calculating. While she did have these specific and high standards upholds to her appearance and her reputation, there’s always that uphold that goes on behind closed doors that only seem to be theories, or secrets from the world.

This goes especially with her sexual interests within the bedroom. You heard right: “sexual interest”. Ashe wasn’t one for an actual romance or intimate life with a significant other. With everything she was doing, along with also doing everything else that her henchmen being insubordinate, she simply didn’t have time for any of that. Just a moment or two of physical pleasure with others and then she would move on. Maybe commiting in acts as such a couple times of month at most.

Ashe, despite being considered a woman of dominance throughout her workforce and seemingly in life in general, she’s actually a Switch within the bedroom. Sometimes Ashe would continue with her high from dominance and take control of her partner(s), usually ones like (Y/N). She loved seeing them squirm in lustful distress, them begging her to bring them to a release. Yet, if Mistress says that they need to wait a little bit longer to cum, then that’s just how it’s going to be. Yet, there’s other times where Ashe is just so physically drained from everything going on, or she wants to give the reins to someone else for some time, then she’ll agree to being the submissive one. Being underneath someone else’s commands, having to beg that she’ll be such a good girl and do whatever it takes to be able to be brought to an orgasm, or five.

Ashe’s definitely one to have multiple partners, whether she takes them on individually or multiples at once during a night of fun. She’s always down for experimenting with her partner(s), guiding them into having threesome or double penetration sessions. Whether she’s the one giving pleasure or receiving pleasure, she’s always sure to make sure that her partners along with herself are satisfied. She would admit that if there’s multiple partners at once she’s more into giving pleasure to the “girls, gays, and theys” all while playing denial and teasing with the men, or others.

If there’s anything about this that would surprise anyone, even having surprised herself when Ashe became more into it, is that Ashe doesn’t mess around with just humans. She also messes around with Omnics as well. I mean, does anyone actually believe that Bob’s there just to be her secondary during missions and all that? She sometimes likes to test her own limits, and using Omnics can satisfy that itch. They don’t have limits to their stamina as humans do, “genitalia” can be altered to the mind’s desire, and Ashe doesn’t have to worry about the possibility of an accidental or unwanted pregnancy. She’ll even go as far as to introduce (Y/N) to some of her Omnic “friends” to join in with them.

Personally feel like she’d be into the whole “love and hate” type of sex sessions with Cassidy. There’d be times it’d be quite rough, angsty, and jealous sex in the middle of the night away from everyone else. Yanking at Cassidy’s hair while she whispers insults into his ear, becoming angrier whenever he’d just laugh, bucking his hips harshly to get his name to tumble out past her lips. Other times it’s built up, having hours of foreplay, before they disappear away from others to indulge in the gentle, passionate pleasure. Ashe mumbling about how it seems that Cassidy is the only one that seems to get her , and she wishes he could stay longer.

In summary, Ashe might be an independent dominant criminal leader on the outside. Yet, she’s more of a freak and the sheets and she’s living for it. If people happen to find out, they better keep their mouths shut unless they want to end up somewhere off in the desert never to be found again.

#ashe overwatch #elizabeth caledonia ashe #x reader #requests?! thank you<3 #lemon rating #lord have mercy

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

He’s Safe With Me | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Half-Blood!Reader

Summary: A little boy brightens Regulus’ days after his brother leaves him.

Inspiration: Click & Click

Growing up always left a bittersweet taste in people's mouths. While it was nice to gain freedom and more privileges that growing up included, the new responsibilities made it bitter. It was the leaving, the stress, and the idea of putting your childhood behind you that brought the sour taste to people's tongues.

Regulus never thought that he’d have to grow up so fast.

The summer months were always Regulus’ favorite. They were the months that, despite everything, Sirius would come home to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and be a resident there for the two months of holiday. Maybe during Hogwarts, they would sneer at each other and argue with one another, but at home, it wasn’t like that.

Sirius was sixteen, and Regulus was fifteen, but that didn’t stop Sirius from taking the hits meant for Regulus. It didn’t stop him from taking the blame, so Regulus was safe. Afterward, Regulus would hear Sirius whimpering in his bedroom and silent cries. Sometimes, he’d even fall asleep outside his door, or if he were brave enough, he’d go inside and lay beside him.

They were boys, but from the moment they were born, they had to be adults. Their childhood was stripped from them, and responsibilities piled on top of another. From the minute they were born, they had to sit straight, use proper manners, try to court girls, be charming, study, and be mature, but they were boys. They were bound to be a ruckus.

Regulus could remember running around Uncle Alphard with Sirius when he was three. Uncle Alphard had a vast plot of land with a big house on the corner. He had cherry blossom trees planted all around the manor, and it gave the boys an area to run. When Regulus caught up to him, eventually, he’d jump on his brother's back, and Sirius always caught him when he fell.

So why couldn’t Sirius catch him now?

He heard the window open from Sirius’ room and already had a feeling he knew what was happening. Earlier that day, he heard the shuffling of clothes and items in the room beside his own. Regulus swallowed the growing lump in his throat and opened Sirius’ door to find exactly what he suspected. Sirius had a trunk packed and head out of the window. When the door opened, he hit his head on the bottom of the window.

“God damn it.” Sirius muttered in pain as he retracted from halfway out the window.

“Sirius…?” Regulus hated how small his voice sounded.

Sirius turned to face his little brother fiddling with a Gryffindor tie, tears in his eyes, “Regulus….”

“Please, wait.” Regulus pleaded softly, and Sirius wanted to, but he couldn’t, “Reg, I- I can’t. I can’t stay here anymore.” Sirius stuttered as tears filled his vision.

Why couldn’t Sirius stay? He felt like a little boy again begging and pleading for Sirius to hold him during the thunderstorms that used to take cover of the skies. Mother always dragged him out of the bedroom, and Regulus would be left wailing begging for Sirius. Regulus would sit on his bed crisscrossed, holding a blanket close to his heart, praying, “Please, Siri, please.”

He could remember when Sirius and Regulus were forced to become enemies. Remembering when Sirius came home from his first year, he was shut in his room with multiple locks. Regulus would weep beg for him to save him from their mother and father. When the first Cruciatus Curse hit, he screamed Sirius’ name.

“Please, Siri, you- you can’t leave.”

“Regulus,” Sirius stepped forward to cup his brother's cheek who reached just beneath his chin, “I’m sorry.”

Regulus leaned into his brother's touch, knowing it would probably be the last time, “I wanna be home….”

“You are home, Regulus.” Sirius replied, confused but still soft and Regulus looked up at him with tears streaming down his face, “Home is wherever I’m with you….”

Sirius had tears trickling down his pale cheeks as he placed his chin on top of Regulus’ head, embracing him tightly, “Please don’t go….”

“Please. I’m begging you.” Regulus was whimpering, keening, wailing, “Siri, please.”

“It’s safer with me gone.” Sirius confessed, “You’ll be safer here. They won’t use the crucio curse on you, not with you being the only one left.”

Regulus was fisting the back of his shirt, the Gryffindor tie still in his hand, “They know that if they hurt one of us, the other one hurts more. With me gone, that leverage disappears.”

“I don’t care.” Regulus cried, “I just want you.”

Sirius kissed the top of his head and parted from his brother's tight embrace, “I love you, Regulus.”

“But-“ Regulus swallowed, “You love James more.”

Sirius didn’t answer, and Regulus let his head fall, staring at the wooden floor, fiddling with the silk tie. He felt guilty. He felt like it was all his fault. Maybe if Regulus had taken more curses, perhaps if he had been a better brother. Maybe if Regulus were strong enough to disobey his parents as Sirius did, then Sirius wouldn’t be leaving right now.

“Perhaps not in this lifetime, but perhaps in another, I’d be able to stay.” Sirius replied solemnly, leaving Regulus’ heart to shatter like a ripped piece of paper.

Regulus sniffled, “I guess… this is goodbye.”

“I suppose it is,” Sirius said as he approached the window again.

This time Regulus didn’t stop him. He knew he had nothing on James. Regulus would always be second to James no matter how hard he tried. Sirius threw the trunk onto the outside ground and sat on the edge of the window, looking beneath him. He turned around one more time before leaping onto the soft grass.

Maybe the summer months weren’t Regulus’ favorite months anymore.

The start of fifth year was dreadful. Regulus didn’t feel anything when he approached the Hogwarts Express. It felt like half of his heart had gone and disappeared. All the compartments were full, and Regulus would have to share with someone, which worsened the experience.

He saw the Marauders compartment. It was filled with the usual four boys, but inside was a girl. She was stunning with her soft appearing hair and sharp features. She was the epitome of beauty, and she made the entire compartment laugh with a quick wit she seemed to have made.

Regulus passed it until he found a compartment with Lucius Malfoy and Evan Rosier. He slid the door open and took place beside Evan. Both boys welcomed him in with a smile. He couldn’t help but think back to the girl in the Marauders compartment. He had seen her before, but he couldn’t place it where.

She hadn’t changed into her robes, so it was impossible to know what house she was in, but she still looked stunning in Muggle clothing. He noticed her style was comparative to Sirius’. The black ripped jeans, the doc martens on her feet, and a tee-shirt he couldn’t make out due to the jacket she wore over it.

They entered Hogwarts and went into the Great Hall, where everyone sat at their respected tables. Regulus couldn’t help himself but try and search for her. He was shocked when she entered the Great Hall with green and silver robes.

It didn’t make sense. Why did she get to be included? The Marauders hated Slytherins, yet she seemed to be so close with them. Regulus was a Slytherin, and he was related to one of the Marauders, yet he still wasn’t included. His heart swelled with a sense of jealousy and envy.

Nonetheless, she took her seat beside Leia, a pureblood with long brown hair and blue eyes. They were talking until the sorting ceremony began. The sorting ceremony was long and drawled out, but the girl looked strangely intrigued. She watched intently as a little boy with shaggy brown hair and green eyes who was introduced as Romeo L/n sat onto the stool where McGonagall placed the hat onto his head.

It pondered for a while, a maximum of two minutes, but the hat finally exclaimed, “Slytherin!” The boy smiled brightly and approached the girl. He was bouncing over to her with a gleeful smile on his face. The little boy had dimples and straight teeth. He hugged her tightly, and she kissed his cheek.

“Congratulations, Romeo.”

“I’m just like you, sis!” Romeo grinned.

She smiled, “You’re just like me, love.”

“Congratulations, Ro!” Leia exclaimed, “So happy for you.”

He hugged the other girl, “Thanks, Leia.”

“C’mere, Rom,” Y/n patted the seat beside her, “Sit.”

The little boy sat beside his sister and allowed her to put her arms around his neck, holding him close to her chest, “Love you, Romeo.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Regulus grimaced. So she had a little brother, and her name was Y/n. Regulus looked back at the stool where first years were sitting. He glanced slightly at Sirius from across the room, who was smiling brightly as James placed an arm around his shoulders. Regulus would always be second best.

The first few weeks of fifth-year weren’t that bad. It went smoothly, and people didn’t talk to Regulus. He was cold and snappy. It turned people away, which he was thankful for. He didn’t want people to talk to him. He felt numb and unresponsive, like he was the shell of who he uses to be.

He was in the library with a Transfiguration book in front of him. The pages were dull, and he couldn’t retain anything he was reading. He missed Sirius’ brilliance in Transfiguration. He missed Sirius tutoring him in hidden places of the library so their mother wouldn’t curse him for low marks.

A hand had gently tugged at his robe, and he went to snap when he saw familiar green eyes, “Um, excuse me, you’re Regulus, right?”

“Yeah, Regulus Black.” Regulus replied, hoping the last name would deter him, but the boy only smiled, “I’m Romeo L/n. Professor Slughorn said that you could tutor me in Potions.”

Romeo sat across from Regulus and plopped down his supplies, “I’m absolutely rubbish at Potions, but my marks in Herbology and Charms are pretty okay. Mum says they need work, but I’m trying the best I can.”

Regulus tilted his head, “What are your marks in Herbology and Charms?”

“I have an Exceeds Expectations in both.” Romeo muttered, “Mum says that I can do better, though.”

“Exceeds Expectations is good. That’s remarkable for a first year. You’re starting out with no knowledge. For just starting, I’d say you’re doing great.” Regulus replied.

He didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort this boy. Maybe because he saw himself in the boy in front of him, he could hear his own mother scolding him for his Acceptable in Transfiguration in his first year.

“Will you tutor me, please?”

Regulus hesitated, “I guess I’m not great at Potions either.”

“Y/n says your fantastic!” Romeo replied, “She talks about you quite a bit.”

“She does?”

“Mhm!” He hummed, “Used to send me letters at home talking about you.”

Regulus’ face flushed, and he gave a tiny smile, “I didn’t even know who she was.”

“She does that on purpose. She knew you wouldn’t like her because of her relationship with Sirius. They’re close friends.”

“Have you spoken to any of them?”

“Yeah.” Romeo's smile was bright, “Sirius was the one who told me to talk to you. He said that you were nice.”

“Sirius did?”

“Yeah, and Y/n, of course.”

Regulus smiled; maybe Sirius wasn’t completely gone, “I’ll tutor you.”

“You will?”

“Yeah. Why not.”

Without a second thought, Romeo had jumped up and embraced the older boy. Regulus stiffened, and Romeo pulled away with wide green eyes, “I’m- I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

Regulus embraced the boy again, and Romeo leaned into his touch. He felt safe in the Black boy's arms, almost the same feeling he got when Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus’ embrace was soft, comforting, and sweet. Romeo could smell the broom polish from being the Slytherin Seeker, cinnamon, and a hint of sandalwood.

Romeo gave Regulus a smile before sitting back down, and they began studying together. Later that evening, Romeo had entered the Great Hall for dinner with him. The first year smiled at him before approaching his sister at the Gryffindor table, where he took his spot beside her.

“Hey, Rom.” Y/n greeted, “Hey, sis.”

“Did you talk to Regulus?” Y/n asked, “Is he gonna tutor you?”

Romeo nodded, “Yeah! He’s really nice!”

Sirius gave a subtle smile, “That’s brilliant, Romeo.”

Romeo and Regulus became quick friends despite Regulus’ reluctance. Romeo thought of Regulus like an older brother, and Regulus protected him like one. He was a target for many older Gryffindors, and Regulus would always take the hits or duel them for him.

These actions didn’t come without consequences. Regulus’ home life got worse, and letters often came about his friendship with the other Slytherin boy. They didn’t enjoy the fact that they were half-bloods and didn’t believe in pureblood supremacy. Regulus would sit in the Astronomy tower with the letter reading it with a dry face looking at the stars.

The door to the tower opened, and Regulus didn’t move. Their footsteps were light and patted across the concrete until they saw him. She sat beside him with her legs crossed while Regulus dangled. She saw the parchment in his hand and took it from them. He allowed it. There was nothing terrible in it other than his mother threatening to throw him out if he didn’t stop talking to that half-blood.

She read it while Regulus stared at the night sky. Y/n placed it back down on the concrete pavement without a word. She fiddled with her hands and put them back in her lap. Regulus was so silent and so peaceful. But she had to break the silence.

“I really appreciate you doing what you do for Romeo.” Y/n said quietly, “He thinks of you like an older brother.”

Regulus chuckled softly, “He’s energetic, that one.”

“Yeah. He’s got a lot of energy.” Y/n replied, “He hates sitting still. But he really appreciates that you can work with that.”

“He gets irritating sometimes, but I try to keep him intrigued.”

“It works.”

“I’m glad.”

It was silent again, “I’m sure he’s told you plenty. He’s not very good at keeping secrets.”

Regulus smirked, and for a moment, he looked like Sirius, “You wrote letters about me?”

“I like you, Regulus.” Y/n confessed, “More than I should.”

He intertwined his hand with hers, “I like you too.”

Y/n smiled at squeezed his hand. Regulus leaned his head on her shoulder and began to tell her about the stars. He went into extreme depth of every constellation, planet, and star. Y/n noticed that he skipped Canis Major but didn’t say anything. She knew of Sirius’ departure the previous summer and how badly Regulus had been hurt thanks to Sirius’ description. It wasn’t good to rub salt in a still-open wound.

When Regulus got the mark months later, they didn’t separate. She stood by his side and helped him through it. They didn’t tell anyone about it, not even Romeo. It wasn’t until the war was over that they decided to let everyone know. Y/n had allowed a sigh of relief when she found out that Peter was in Azkaban and her friends were still alive.

Regulus was sleeping when she grabbed a bit of parchment to write to Sirius. Y/n dipped the quill in black ink and began writing smoothly. The ink embedded the paper like old friends, and when it dried, she handed it to her owl, Astoria. The following afternoon when Remus and Sirius were still entangled together from the previous night, the owl tapped on the window.

Sirius groaned and stood up from the bed. He grabbed the parchment as the owl flew off. The writing was perfect calligraphy, and Sirius smiled at the note written on the parchment. His heart slowed its beat with relief.

“He’s safe with me.”

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Note

Aaa congrats on 666 :D you've been one of my favorite obey me blogs since I joined the fandom! can I request the brothers with an mc that looks/acts like they just walked out of a zombie apocalypse? Turns out that while the demons werent looking, things in the human realm went down hill ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

👀 I love this! Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer

When Solomon popped down into the Devildom earlier, Lucifer had noticed that the sorcerer looked a tad… concerned. After he left, Lucifer thought nothing of it until the second human exchange student appeared brandishing a gun and looking like they hadn’t showered in eight days.

After managing to disarm the human and avoiding the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, Lucifer managed to explain exactly why the human was in the Devildom and what was going on. In return, the human calmed down and explained what was going on in the human world.

…geez, shit really hit the fan. Uh… Lucifer wished them luck in their exchange year and foisted them off on Mammon. Lucifer was not about to deal with that right then.

(Apparently one of Solomon’s necromancing acquaintances had something to do with the mini apocalypse going on in the human world. Lucifer and MC were assured that the zombie problem was being dealt with)

As confused and annoyed as Lucifer was at first, he quickly became glad that the human had some kind of self defence on them. The Devildom was a dangerous place, and the human could nullify some of that danger by popping a bullet or twelve into some idiots’ heads.

But one of MC’s more annoying habits were their tendency to set traps and hoard food. They didn’t seem to grasp that lack of food wasn’t an issue and that there were plenty of spells in place to make sure-

Okay, Beel just raided the fridge. Maybe MC had the right idea. Up for sharing some spaghetti-o’s?

Mammon

Now listen here! The Great and Amazing and Mega-Sexy Mammon wasn’t scared of the human at all! Got it?! Good. He wasn’t scared of how dishevelled and dirty they were and how they looked like they just crawled out of a horror movie! Not at all! He also wasn’t scared of the baseball bat they threatened to hit him with if he continued to spout threats of eating them.

Pff, he wasn’t scared… totally not scared… *ahem*

Once the human took a bath and stopped pointing their various weapons at him, Mammon quickly began to warm up to the human in their own tsundere kind of way. Fine, he could admit that MC was kinda cool.

The one thing that Mammon just couldn’t deal with was MC’s traps… he kept setting them off while trying to get into MC’s room!

Oi! Don’t look at him like that! He wasn’t tryin’ to steal anything! He also wasn’t goin’ in there to hang out with the dumb human either! Wasn’t goin’ in there to check on em’ and make sure they were comfortable…

Mammon is also #2 in terms of food theft in the house. He just spotted ramen and decided that possibly getting hit with MC’s baseball bat of pain was worth getting his greedy little mitts on some dollar store noodles.

Leviathan

When Levi went downstairs to threaten Mammon for his money back, Levi immediately recoiled at the absolutely fowl smell coming from the human. Ew, normie stink was getting all over him! And why did they look like they just walked out of TellTale’s The Walking Dead?

Once MC explained their situation, Levi took it upon himself to mansplain the zombie apocalypse to the poor human that was going through it. He had played plenty of zombie survival games and he was surely the expert-

AAKSJAKAJANA- PUT THE BAT DOWN! HE’LL SHUT UP! HE’LL SHUT UP!

After that was over and done with, Levi decided it would be his job to reintroduce MC to some quality entertainment. There couldn’t be that many good shows to watch in the apocalypse, so MC (starved for entertainment) agreed to watch whatever Levi wanted.

Food hoarding? Been there done that. Levi keeps at least ten boxes of Pocky in his room at all times, and a crap ton of other snack foods too. That habit doesn’t phase Levi.

The traps on the other hand? HELL YES TEACH HIM MC! THAT’LL WARD OFF SOME SCUMMY MORONS! *insert Levi cackle here*

Satan

Satan was amongst the people who had the privilege of getting a gun pointed at them on the first day of the exchange program. He kept his fake little smile on his face, but he sure as hell wasn’t too pleased with the human.

He kept his distance at first, studying MC from afar and taking note of their weird little habits. Satan found it quite interesting how quickly this seemingly average human adapted to their new circumstances.

After the body switching incident and the murder train incident, Satan developed a fondness for MC. But… maybe MC shouldn’t have brought their weapons with them on one of their hangout sessions with Satan.

It was on that day that MC learned that Satan was as good a shot with a gun as they were… Rest in Pieces to the idiot that decided fucking with the Avatar of Wrath would be a good idea.

The traps… oh yes the traps… that exact skill set transferred perfectly to pranks! Oh if MC would be so kind as to let Satan teach them the way of the bastard (tm) so the two of them could annoy that pompous peacock together?

Asmodeus

Ewwwww! What was that awful stench coming from the- EWWWWW! Why was the human so gross and dirty! Someone get the hose! They summoned a feral one!

Asmo was less concerned with the fact that the human was threatening everyone with an actual weapon and more concerned with how they smelled like a month old macaroni salad.

MC got a bottle of admittedly pleasant smelling soap thrown at them before Mammon dragged them off to the HOL.

Despite the nasty first impression, once MC took a much needed bath and washed all that gross grime off of themselves… they were honestly really hot… man, apocalypses should happen more often if they produce babes like MC~ *eyebrow wiggle*

Though, the poor human still needed some work, Asmo declared himself their fairy goddaddy (I regret ever learning how to type) and took every opportunity to make sure MC looked their best and took care of themselves.

MC’s odd habits don’t exactly phase Asmo much, I mean, look at who he lives with.

Beelzebub

…he doesn’t wanna eat this human.

Listen, Beel will eat anything, but if he has other options, he’s not eating the gross dirty human pointing a gun at him.

At first, Beel’s pretty neutral towards anything and everything MC ends up doing. They barricaded themselves in their room to keep safe out of habit? Okay. They scarily polish and clean their weapons out in the middle of the living room? So does Satan on occasion. They cleared out the fridge- wait they cleared out the fridge?

BEEL WAS GOING TO DO THAT! PREPARE TO BE EATEN, HUMAN!

MC miraculously survived a hungry Beel attack by chucking food at him until he calmed back down. Beel felt a little bad for scaring them, but anyone with more than five brain cells should know not to steal food from the Avatar of Gluttony.

Anyway, once the two get closer, Beel’s always there for a hug and comfort if MC needs it. Just don’t let him near the food hoard. He will reduce it to nothing in less than an hour.

More than 90% of the traps that get set off are set off by Beel trying to get into MC’s room for food.

Belphegor

Father Dammit, Belphie wanted a nice easy defenceless human to murder, not this Rambo-lookalike. Whatever, sure the human looked tough, but Belphie’s a demon.

Well… Belphegor’s plan went to shit when he was in the middle of choking the human, who pulled out a gun and nearly shot him in the eye. He ended up dropping them in surprise when the bullet grazed his face and ended up getting MC’s boot planted into his forehead.

Yeah… Belphie did not fare well. MC: 1 Belphie: 0

After that nonsense, Belphie demanded begged that MC become his full time nap guardian. They were scary and could protect him, the totally defenceless war criminal 🥺, come on MC, don’t be heartless!

Similar to Asmo, Belphie isn’t too phased by MC’s weird habits. As long as they don’t try and steal his pillows, he’s okay. Those traps though… perfect for a certain older brother of his…

He joins in on Satan’s crusade to get MC to join the Anti Lucifer League. Puh-LEEEEEEEAAAAAASE MC?

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey Me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor

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thornedrose44 · 3 years

Text

Prompt: "Do it. Take a chance, I'm begging you. You don't want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."

Read on AO3

“What is it?” Kara huffed out, her frustration finally reaching critical mass.

“What’s what?” Alex replied, playing dumb by pretending to study the DEO’s monitors far too intently considering Kara had literally just dispatched the rogue villain of the week.

Kara crossed her arms, hip cocked forward slightly as she leant against the central console, blue eyes observing her sister's profile closely.

“Whatever you’re not telling me because you think it will upset me.” The superhero clarified bluntly, her social hesitation and uncertainty having dampened over the last few years.

She had learnt the hard way how important it was to never shy away from the truth and avoid speaking around the heart of the matter. It was a lesson she had absorbed completely, and it was one she refused to forget - needing to prove she had evolved, had bettered herself from the version that had required teaching in the first place.

“I’m not…” Alex refuted, shrugging dismissively but keeping her gaze trained forward, “There’s no-“

“Look, I’m asking you out of courtesy,” Kara cut in, “but you and I both know that I could just as easily ask Nia, and she would fold almost instantly.”

Alex grumbled irritably under her breath - Nia still had yet to build an effective resistance to Kara’s puppy dog eyes and this particular weakness had caused no small amount of trouble for Alex over the last five years.

“It is Lena related, right?” Kara checked, though it was completely unnecessary.

For Alex to actively try and keep a secret from her, it couldn’t be about anything else. And it had been more or less confirmed by her sister's reaction to her threatening to go to Nia.

“Just because I’m keeping a secret, doesn’t automatically mean it’s to do with Lena.” Alex tried, though the conviction behind her statement was weaker than wet tissue paper.

The redhead side-eyed her and Kara merely had to arch an unimpressed eyebrow in return for the DEO director to deflate.

“Okay maybe it’s a little to do with Lena.” Alex admitted with a wince, rubbing the back of her neck in defeat.

Kara threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s been over five years, okay? I’m fine!”

Her bellowed declaration of stability, made the nearby DEO agents look over with a mix of curiosity and concern. Kara grimaced at the reaction and as such didn’t resist when Alex grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the central room and into her private office.

Alex turned to face her fully, lips pressed tight together and hands firm on her own hips (it had always annoyed Kara that Alex managed to make her signature superhero pose far more intimidating than her own attempts).

“Yelling I’m fine, definitely helps your case.” Alex retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kara had the good grace to look suitably embarrassed for a moment before launching into the same variation of the speech she gave every time there was a morsel of Lena news to be had. “I screwed up, okay? Big time screwed up - ‘regret it for the rest of my life’ screwed up!” Kara declared prompting a beleaguered sigh from her sister who knew the blatant lie that was coming next. “But I’ve made my peace with it. I won’t spiral into another depressive episode when I hear how happy she is.”

Alex shook her head, not even remotely convinced - not that Kara could blame her, the last time Alex had been pestered into telling her a Lena update, Kara had spent a weekend on a drinking binge that had successfully proven that there were limits even for a kryptonian.

“I don’t think-“ Alex began.

“What is it?” Kara demanded. “Is she getting another medal from the president?”

Alex shook her head, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Kara, you don’t want to know this.”

“Her and Kal save the world again?” Kara barrelled on, her lips curling into a jealous snarl. “The greatest Luthor and Super duo continue to make the world a better place?”

That particular news article had been printed and burned by Kara’s heat vision more times than she dared admit to anyone.

“Kara, please-“ Alex begged, expression crumpling as Kara relentlessly pushed.

“Tell me, I can take it.” Kara proclaimed, voice coming out high pitched and strained. “Is she dating someone again? Another famous actress? That Olympic male gymnast? What-“

“She’s getting married.”

A bomb must have gone off, Kara thought to herself.

A kryptonite bomb.

It was the only thing that could explain the ringing in her ears, and the way everything just… hurt.

A shard of kryptonite must have pierced her chest and cut her heart into jagged pieces. That was the only thing that could explain it.

“What?” She questioned, barely above a whisper. She didn’t quite recognise her own voice - it sounded shattered and unfamiliar. She also didn’t know what she was asking.

Didn’t know what ‘what’ was all about.

What just happened?

What did you say?

What post-apocalyptic reality are we living in now?

“Next week, she’s getting married.” Alex explained, giving Kara answers she no longer wanted. “Sam, Ruby, Kal and Lois are invited.”

She knew it should sting. Not being invited even though they hadn’t spoken in nearly five years. That she should feel something about the fact that Lena had omitted Alex, Brainy, Nia and J’onn as well - it further reinforced how Lena believed them to be Kara’s friends and never hers (which was one of the things Kara regretted most - how her poor treatment of Lena had infected and destroyed everyone else’s friendship with the youngest Luthor).

“To who?” Kara asked, tone cold, hollow… empty.

“Kara,” Alex murmured softly, reaching out to comfort her sister, “this clearly isn’t good for you.”

Kara jerked backwards so fast that the papers on Alex’s desk shot into the air, fluttering down around the sisters like snow.

“Just tell me!” Kara ordered, hands turned into white knuckle fists at her sides that would be capable of tearing through the strongest of metals. Her eyes heated but she managed to stave the fire in them as she glowered at her sister.

Alex slumped back, leaning heavily against her desk, running a frantic hand through her short hair. “Does it matter?” Alex muttered defeatedly, brown eyes filled with pity and sympathy as she stared up into Kara’s eyes.

“Of course it fucking matters,” Kara snapped in outrage before she had a chance to stop and think , “because it’s not me!”

The admission hung heavy and rotting between them. It wasn’t a revelation to either of them, though the fact that the intensity of Kara’s feelings hadn’t dampened despite the separation of half a decade was.

“Kara…” Alex breathed, standing back up and moving towards the blonde with the obvious intent of hugging her.

“I should get back to CatCo.” Kara mumbled, cheeks a fiery red with shame. She stepped hurriedly away from her sister and was already halfway out the door before she halted, turning back to call out a sad yet sincere. “Thanks for telling me.”

Xxx

“I genuinely don’t get why you love these films so much.” Lena remarked, hands cupping her just made cup of cocoa, nose adorably scrunched up as she snuggled back down on the sofa beside Kara, who didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her best friend’s shoulders.

“They’re sweet and romantic.” Kara replied with a happy sigh, turning to nuzzle into the side of Lena’s head for a fleeting moment as the film’s lead started her joyful march down the aisle. “It makes me hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” Lena repeated curiously, leaning away slightly so she could meet Kara’s blue eyes.

Kara shrugged, ducking her head bashfully, “It’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Lena murmured gently, freeing a hand from her mug so that she could interlace her warmed fingers with Kara’s, “you could never be stupid, especially not about something like this.” Her best friend asserted, before asking seriously, “You want the classic big white wedding?”

“Uh…” Kara blushed, cheeks pinking as her mind struggled to kick into gear.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that the reason she loved weddings more than any other event is because they so closely resembled Kryptonian Bonding ceremonies. That the exchanging of rings, polished everlasting metal, reminded her of wonderfully crafted bracelets clasped on wrists. That it was an occasion for family to join together across generations, for the rare flashes of art and music on Krypton to take centre stage over cold science.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that after being alone, abandoned and lost - ripped away from her home in the cruelest of ways - that the idea of belonging to someone else, of having a home in someone else regardless of time or location was what Kara wanted more than anything else.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena because it would require admitting the truth of who she really was, it would require taking accountability for years of lies.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena without losing her forever.

“Yeah.” Kara coughed awkwardly, “I want the whole thing. Beautiful dress, surrounded by family… the love of my life at the end of the aisle. Everything.” She shot Lena a side-long glance, “I’m guessing you don’t?”

“Never really been my thing,” Lena admitted readily and Kara’s heart twisted at how Lena didn’t hesitate to bare herself, how she gave all of herself when it could be argued that Kara - at best - only gave half, “probably because I can’t imagine I have enough people in my life to invite and feel ‘surrounded’.” Lena pursed her lips thoughtfully, “I also don’t get the need for the spectacle. Just the idea that there’s someone out there that would want to…” Kara watched her best friend deflate, expression wistful and pained, “be with me, love me like that… that’s more than enough.”

Kara’s eyes stung with barely suppressed tears at how little Lena thought of herself. Whoever had the privilege of marrying her best friend would be the single luckiest and most fortunate person in the universe and Kara wished Lena knew that, wished she believed it. But when she opened her mouth to say it, to proclaim it, her breath faltered and her courage abandoned her… like it always did with the youngest Luthor.

“So no white dress?” Kara muttered instead, voice meek and lacking the lightheartedness that should have carried the question.

It didn’t matter, though, Lena let out a quick exhale that resembled something on the edge of laughter. Kara’s escalating heart rate settled at that, however, it did little to alleviate the pang of regret that was steadily accompanying all her interactions with the CEO.

“Well, I guess I could be convinced by someone special.” Lena teased, shooting Kara an overtly salacious wink that wouldn’t - on the surface - be considered genuine.

“Anyone that marries you will have to be special.” Kara replied, the statement tumbling out instantly.

It wasn’t the heartfelt confession that Kara wished it to be and it wasn’t quite light enough to be dismissed as a friendly reassurance. Instead, it was yet another thing that fell into the ethereal greyness that lied between them, something to tuck away and think back on late at night when they tried to work out if the other meant it the way they wished they did.

��Yeah?” Lena whispered, piercing green eyes studying Kara’s face closely.

Kara swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”

Xxx

Lena found out less than six weeks after that movie night. They defeated Lex and Kara had been on the edge of breathing easy, of being able to simply relax back into her life when it all came crashing down.

They had been at Games Night and Kara had been antsy, waiting for her best friend to arrive. The thought of pulling Lena into a hug had been what she had been looking forward to most all day.

Kara was at peace, laughing and drinking with her friends - her family - when Lena had arrived. Kara had beamed up at her immediately and for a second Lena’s entrancing green eyes lit up in return before turning dark and distant.

Kara’s smile faltered, crinkle appearing between her brows when-

The wine bottle smashed into the wall behind Kara’s head.

Deathly silence fell over the area.

Kara looked into hollow, emptied out versions of her favourite green. She would have preferred anger, fury, rage… the defeated nothingness staring back at the Kryptonian was far worse.

Lena turned and left, grinding Kara’s heart to dust and taking the sand particles left with her.

She knew.

She knew because Lex had told her.

She knew because she had gone to stop her brother, intent on saving the world like always only to find out that those she was saving the world for didn’t view her as their equal. That the people she treated as family had kept her on the outskirts. That her best friend had lied, had manipulated, had-

xxx

It was Lois that found out everything from Lena.

When the fallout had happened, as Kara and the Superfriends realised what they had lost, the blonde hero sent notice to her cousin that his identity was probably known as well (mostly because she remembered how hurt she had been when Kal shared her secret without her consent). Kal and Lois had arrived almost immediately, frantic and terrified (especially with baby Jon to consider) at the concept of a Luthor knowing their identity.

Kara, joined by all the Superfriends, quickly put their minds to rest, sharing Lena’s actions from before, her dependability, kindness and inherent goodness. Kal and Lois were convinced their secret was safe but they were horrified to hear how Lena had been isolated and kept at arms length after her considerable good deeds. Alex and the others had squirmed uncomfortably and tried to weakly talk around their hesitancy.

Kal and Lois had simply looked at Kara for an explanation but she had none. Yet again the words would not come.

It was Lois, therefore, that had sought out the youngest Luthor and through her incredible tenacity was able to gain access where everyone else was rebuffed and harshly rejected.

It was Lois that comforted Lena, gave her support and sympathy.

It was Lois that relayed Lena’s demand that they give her space.

It was Lois that suggested Lena return to Metropolis - presenting it as a way to celebrate how L-Corp, after Lena’s repeated sacrifices and heroism, was fully rehabilitated and ready to reclaim its once home.

It was Lois that encouraged Lena and Kal to work together becoming an unstoppable force that Kara and Lena had always danced on the precipice of.

A Luthor and a Super. Saving the world.

xxx

Kara did as asked. Gave Lena space. Or at least the semblance of space.

She checked in constantly, hovered nearby throughout the days and nights leading upto L-Corp’s departure and Lena along with it. She followed Lena’s jet to Metropolis, a sentinel ensuring safe passage.

She kept her distance for three months. Three months of stony silence before she broke.

Snapped, more like.

Landing on Lena’s new balcony in Metropolis that had been specially built for Superman this time - not for her, though Kara, at the time, had hoped that she had been considered consciously or unconsciously as well.

Kara couldn’t remember the exact words.

She remembered crying from beginning to end.

Remembered ‘I loved you’ - past tense.

Remembered finally breaking through Lena’s cold, hardened shell to the raw, bleeding wound hidden underneath and regretting it almost immediately.

Remembered how seeing Lena’s agony was worse than kryptonite, worse than watching Krypton burn…

Remembered Lena saying she needed time to heal, for Kara to stop hovering nearby - because she knew, she sensed Kara’s presence even without seeing her once - and to give her time to stop thinking of Kara and feeling only pain when she did so.

Remembered promising to do just that.

Remembered a timer starting to count in her head - the seconds that she would be condemned to purgatory.

Remembered the hope that just refused to go out - the hope that whispered give it time, give it time, give it time with every beat of her heart.

Remembered thinking that given enough time Lena would reach out and they would get the chance that Kara had almost destroyed for them.

Remembered flying zig-zagged and dangerous to Alex where her endless stream of tears returned to full flow as she sobbed into her sister’s shoulder using words and phrases like ‘heartbroken’ and ‘I love her’ and ‘I can’t survive this pain’ and ‘what do I do?’ and ‘I can’t breathe’.

Remembered a hollowed out shell of Kara Danvers moving through the motions for a year, for two, three, four… five...

Remembered taking up drinking to excess whenever she saw Lena’s life flourish and grow - not because she didn’t want Lena to be happy, that was what Kara wanted and wished for more than anything - because she wasn’t there with her for those life-changing events.

Remembered Alex and Kelly’s worries growing with each occurrence, intervening more and more to such a degree that they encouraged Kara to consider AA meetings - she did eventually, and found destroying entire junkyards to be a healthier coping mechanism, external destruction rather than internal.

Remembered Brainy at the behest of Alex, setting up Kara’s phone and computer to prevent searching for any keywords affiliated to Lena and to alert Alex if Kara ever managed to stumble upon a news article.

Remembered listening to Kal and Lois skipping large parts of stories where it was clear that Lena was involved - it was nice in some way to know Lena was getting the credit she deserved, but it hurt when Kal’s stories started to involve gaps at Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year (events that made Kara’s loneliness even more acute and her longing intensify).

Remembered her life without Lena.

Remembered regret and guilt and loss.

Remembered-

“She’s getting married.”

xxx

Kara shouldn’t have been there. Shouldn’t be anywhere in the vaguest vicinity of where she currently was.

The bride was dressed in a simple silky white shift, sipping intermittently from her champagne glass as she stared contemplatively up at the designer white dress hanging off the door in front of her. Raven locks were pinned up, so tight and intricate that it made Kara wince sympathetically at how it must tug and pinch at the bride’s scalp - she’d always preferred it down, loose and curling… soft and inviting. The bride’s make-up was artistic with a dramatic edge that would captivate but made her look… not like herself in Kara’s opinion.

Or maybe after five years it made Lena look more like herself - the version of herself she had become once free of Kara and all the pain she brought into her life.

She was hovering outside the dressing room window, trying to work out how far she was willing to take this. If it would be better to leave without saying anything, to try and leave some part of Lena’s life unspoiled.

It was the fear that she had always given into when she was best friends with Lena that made her decision for her. Like speaking her truth and learning to ask for what she wanted - Kara had also promised herself that she would never allow that bone deep fear to stop her ever again.

The window was open and it was as good an invite as Kara was ever going to get.

“Lena?”

The beautiful bride-to-be jerked in her place, champagne glass nearly tumbling to the floor but saved at the last second.

She didn’t turn around for a beat… then two…

Kara was just about to escape back through the window when Lena exhaled slowly and pivoted round to meet her.

“Kara?” Lena breathed out, green eyes closed off and wary.

The kryptonian studied the love of her life for a moment, taking in every little detail - soaking it all up as if accepting that this would be the last time she might ever get to see it again. That the timer that had counted past five years would stop after this moment, the hope powering it gone forever.

“Don’t marry them, please.” Kara requested, no flowery language, no build up. Just the honest truth.

“What?” Lena’s jaw dropped and the champagne glass didn’t survive the second shock, crashing to the ground - released by trembling fingers.

“Don’t marry them.” Kara repeated, uncaring of how the carpet below them soaked up the amber liquid.

Lena’s expression flitted through an array of emotions before settling on indignant rage, “And why the hell not?!”

Kara didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, instead she stood taller, the crest of her super suit catching the early afternoon light. “Because it should have been me. It still should be me.”

Lena scoffed in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. Now? You’re doing this now?”

Kara pursed her lips, fighting back the regret that always came with the reminders of countless missed opportunities. “Yes.”

The straightforwardness of Kara’s answers seemed to be throwing Lena, leaving her wrong-footed, clearly expecting the blonde to talk around and hint and imply like she used to.

But Kara had learnt. (The lesson had been too painful not to.)

“You had years, Kara!” Lena argued, “Years where I…. I threw myself at you. Practically begged you to love me… to trust me…”

“I know.” Kara replied sadly, wanting desperately to reach out when Lena’s pretty green eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “I know. But I’m here now.”

“I don’t want you to be.” Lena muttered, arms crossed over her chest and head ducked downwards to hide her expression.

“I know that too.” Kara assured, fingers twitching with the desire to make contact, to comfort and coax - even after all these years her body remembered, the pathways of hardwired instinct related to her best friend were still there, still active even if temporarily closed for service.

“Then why are you here?” Lena murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s head snapped up at that, green eyes like saucers.

Kara’s single biggest regret was that she had never said those words to Lena before, had alluded and pointed at them during their final interaction but had never outright said them. And Lena had deserved to hear them then and deserved to hear them now to forever vanquish the doubts that had always been with her.

“Because I’m in love with you and we didn’t get our chance.” Kara affirmed, taking a half step closer to the bride, her red heeled boots and Lena’s bare feet meaning the younger woman had to tip her head ever so slightly back to maintain eye contact. “We didn’t get our chance because of me. Because I was afraid, I was so afraid of losing you. Of doing even the slightest thing that could mean you weren’t in my life. And in the end every action I took out of fear of losing you ensured just that. I’ve spent five years without you, Lena, and I can’t bear a single day more.”

“Kara,” Lena whispered, “I’m getting married.”

“I know.” Kara smiled sadly before adding, “Don’t.”

“What are you suggesting? Seriously?” Lena sighed, shaking her head mournfully and Kara knew she was losing her then.

“I’m suggesting that we have our chance now before it's gone forever.”

Gathering the small amount of courage Kara had left, she tentatively let her hands nudge forwards, brushing against Lena’s cool, pale fingers. That small contact was everything. Made it easier to breathe, made the colours of the world more vibrant, made everything just more.

“I let fear hold me back from the person that made me happiest in the entire universe and I won’t let it hold me back again.”

“Kara…” Lena whimpered, glancing back over her shoulder at the closed door that her wedding dress was displayed on, though she didn’t pull her hand away from Kara’s touch, didn’t flinch or retreat.

“Do it.” Kara pleaded, stepping across that final slither of distance between them, her forehead leaning forward to rest gently against the side of Lena’s, “Take a chance, I’m begging you. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

Lena inhaled shakily, head returning to forward facing - foreheads pressed against one another, breathing in the same air - and then… and then…

Lena’s hands slipped fully into Kara’s, fingers intertwining together.

#supercorp #supercorpfic #i feel no remorse for this #tempted to do a part two

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

I absolutely love your fics!!! Thank you for sharing your talent with the world. If you're interested, do you think you could write a fic where Finn gets injured in a game against Tampa? O'Hara brothers ftw ♥️♥️♥️

Ohohohoho yes. It's 'missing your big brother so you write siblings' hours, and all of you are trapped in here with me. Combined with prompts for cubs hurt comfort/ poly love (@hi-im-phoenix) and distraction hurt/ comfort for AJ. Sorry about your manager <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for bone inJuries

The crowd was roaring. Finn couldn’t catch his breath. His arm was on fire.

Something like a sob broke free in his chest, but he could do little more than hiccup in pain and fear from his place laying flat on his back atop the unforgiving ice. He couldn’t move his fingers. His elbow throbbed. Everything in between just hurt.

“—fuck is wrong with you?” an angry voice shouted, followed by a flash of blue and white shoving at the man whose late hit had left him suspended in shock. Finn didn’t know if it had been on purpose, but he didn’t really care anymore as a tear tracked down to his ear. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the bright lights overhead.

A hand cradled one side of his jaw, warm and clammy on his cold skin. “Talk to me, mon amour, what’s wrong?”

“Lo,” he croaked, swallowing hard. “I’m okay. ‘m okay, promise. I’m okay.”

“Out of my way!” The blue and white blob pushed closer before kneeling next to him. A helmet hit the ice, followed by a glove; heavy hands settled on his shoulders, and the one on his face disappeared. “Finn? Finn, look at me.”

Finn’s chest hitched once, twice, hard. His head was pounding, and everything hurt. He may have been able to reassure Logan, but he had never been able to hide from his brother. “Alex.”

“Hey, buddy,” he soothed as Finn finally regained enough breath to gasp around his tears. “No, no, shhh. You’re gonna be just fine, yeah? Can you tell me what happened?”

“Hurts,” he choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain had reached his shoulder and every movement was agony. “It hurts, it hurts—Alex, it hurts.”

“What hurts?”

He could hear people calling for medics. His friends, his family. But Alex stayed right there next to him, holding his good hand and brushing his tears away. “My arm,” Finn said, feeling as pathetic as he ever had. “Alex, it hurts so bad.”

“Can you wiggle your fingers for me?” Finn sobbed again as he shook his head and saw the encouraging smile slide of Alex’s face. “That’s alright, buddy, just take some deep breaths.”

“I don’t wanna be out,” Finn blubbered. “I gotta play.”

Alex gave his hand a light squeeze. “It’s not that bad, Fish. Deep breaths.”

He managed a handful—and admittedly felt a little better—but the alarms in his head were still blaring when Remus arrived with the medic, all but carrying him across the ice to get to Finn. He had a smudge of a bruise beneath his eye, but the worry creasing his brow overtook anything else. “I’m good, Loops,” Finn panted as the medic sat next to him. “Totally cool.”

“28, I’m going to need you to make some room,” the medic ordered. Fear spiked in Finn’s heart when he met Alex’s gaze, but he found only determination looking back.

“I’m not leaving,” Alex said simply.

The medic glanced down. “Can you stand?”

“I think so?” Finn said hesitantly, trying to get cool air back into his lungs. “It’s—I think I broke my arm. Everything else is okay.”

“What’s your pain level?”

“Eight. And a half,” he added. Alex frowned.

“Let’s get you off this ice, yeah?” The medic patted him gently on the shoulder. “O’Hara, can you get him up?”

“Keep that one close,” Alex murmured, sliding his arm under Finn’s shoulders. He clenched his teeth around a cry of pain as his bad arm was jostled, but Alex was strong and steady, and within a few seconds he was on his feet. “Easy does it, bud. I’ve got you.”

“Fucking shit,” Finn wheezed as he tried to close his hand. The fear and adrenaline had faded, but involuntary tears sprang to his eyes anyway. Alex held him upright without faltering despite his wobbly legs; they made it to the bench in a blur of movement that made Finn dizzy.

“We can take him from here,” the medic said to Alex.

“I’ll be fine,” Finn said, cutting him off just as he opened his mouth. “Go play. Your boys need you.”

Alex pressed his lips together in obvious frustration, but tapped their helmets together and skated back to his own bench. Finn let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “O’Hara?”

“I’m good,” he assured the medic.

“If you feel like you need to throw up, let me know.”

“No. No, I’m good. Just hurts.”

He caught a glimpse of the clock as they headed down the tunnel—ten minutes left in the period. Finn steeled himself for a long stretch of being alone in a medical room and tried to focus on something over than the unbearable heat and throbbing in his arm.

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

Leo traced the edge of the splint with a deep-set frown, but said nothing. His other thumb ran in gentle lines up and down Finn’s waist, kept there by Logan’s side pressing close. “You’re sure you’re alright?” Logan asked softly as he placed a kiss on the corner of Finn’s mouth.

“I promise.” They had barely traded ten words—both had shown up the second the game ended, stripping off their pads and skates in the entrance to the medical room before sandwiching Finn between them. Leo had been unusually quiet. They had won the game; from what Finn saw on the television in the corner of the room, Alex had reamed out the guy that hit Finn with a vengeance. Tampa had been disjointed, and the Lions swept in as a cohesive pack, out for blood.

“I was worried about you,” Leo said at last, resting his temple on Finn’s shoulder. He sighed, then shifted impossibly closer. “Couldn’t get through the crowd.”

“I thought Talker and Loops were gonna kill that guy after he hit you,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “Looks like Alex did it for him.”

“What, you didn’t get into your shining armor for me?” Finn teased, nuzzling his nose against Logan’s cheek to draw even a slight smile from him.

“Maybe next time.”

“No,” Leo mumbled, linking his fingers with Finn’s purple ones and lifting them to his lips for a brief kiss. It was a clean break, but would still take weeks to heal. Big blue eyes landed on him, melting his heart like they always did. “No ‘next times’, okay?”

“Aw, Knutty,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. He wrapped one arm around each of them and held them tight, soaking in the feeling of having both crushed against him. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

Logan tucked his face into Finn’s neck. “Nothing to be sorry for, mon rouge. We’re just glad you’re alright.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice said from the door. Alex shifted his weight back and forth, twisting his baseball cap in his hands like he always did when he was nervous. Finn didn’t hesitate before extracting himself from the cuddle pile and crossing the room; Alex met him halfway and engulfed him in a hug. A shudder ran through him under Finn’s palms. “Jesus, Finn, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Finn mumbled into his hoodie, letting himself be cocooned by distilled safety. Even out of his skates, Alex had a good two inches on him, and he had always been the broader of the two—Finn suddenly felt about six years old, as if he had just skinned his knee on the sidewalk.

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Closed break, clean fracture. I’ll be out for a month or two.” He stepped back and swiped a hand under his nose, then tilted his head toward Leo and Logan with a wry smile. “But I’ve got these two to look after me.”

Alex scanned his face for a moment; his mouth dipped on one side. “I called mom and dad, told ‘em you’re okay. You should tell them yourself, though. They were freaking out.”

“I will,” Finn promised.

The worry creasing his brow didn’t diminish as he wrapped Finn in his arms again, holding him tight. “Keep me updated, yeah? If I don’t hear from you, I’ll get the captain on your ass, and he won’t be as nice about it as I will.”

“Deal.”

“Knutty, Lo, drive safe. If he tries to pull some stupid shit, I’m counting on your survival skills to stop it.”

“Survival skills?” Leo half-laughed.

Alex pulled away and raised his eyebrows. “They don’t call me Hurricane O’Hara for nothing.”

His eyes flickered back to Finn, who was horrified to see slight redness around the rims despite the teasing in his voice. “Alex,” he said softly. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“I know.” His voice was gruff, but it poorly hid a sniffle as he bumped their foreheads together. “But I’m your brother. It’s my job to worry about you. I hate that one of my guys was at fault here.”

Finn tried for a smile, socking him on the arm. “Six weeks, and I’ll be good as new.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” With a final survey of his face and a kiss to the top of his head, Alex headed back out into the hall with his shoulders up near his ears. Finn sighed; he hated it when Alex was upset, and even more when there was nothing he could do to fix it except wait. He didn’t know what he’d do if one of his teammates broke his brother.

“Fish?” Leo was smiling when he turned around. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind?”

“The kind where I pull out all the sob story pity points on Cap’s soft heart and get us babysitting privileges for his incredibly fluffy dog after three months of constant begging.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Make sure you look extra sad when we leave,” Logan advised. “We can’t lose this opportunity because you were too perky about a broken arm.”

“Quick, someone make me cry.”

Leo’s grin turned to horror. “What?”

“No!” Logan said at the same time.

“You guys are killing me here,” Finn groaned. “Just, like, hit me in the arm or something.”

“No!” they shouted in unison.

“You said I need to look sad!”

“I meant pout and sigh!” Logan pulled him over by the hem of his shirt in clear distress. “You’ve already cried too much tonight. No more.”

“Alright,” Finn agreed, already wracking his brain for any smidgen of drama skills he might have acquired over the years. Younger siblings were always the best actors, of course—he had given some Oscar-worthy performances to his mom when Alex got on his nerves as a kid—but Sirius was tough to fool. Maybe if he stayed quiet and didn’t risk opening his mouth they would get away with it.

Leo let out a slow exhale against his chest and snuggled closer before standing. “Come on, darlin,” he said with a kiss to Finn’s forehead. “Let’s get you settled. We’ll take a shower, have some dinner, and then we can put a movie on.”

“Mighty Ducks?” Finn asked hopefully.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

#finn ohara #logan tremblay #alex ohara #leo knut #oknutzy #cubs #hurt/comfort #sweater weather #vaincre #my fic #fanfic #brothers #broken bones

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ceilingfan5 · 3 years

Text

Safe Harbor

“Lighthouses,” the tour guide drawls, “Aren’t just pretty pictures on calendars. They’re a beacon in the darkness, symbols of hope, all that jazz. But they’ve also literally got a job to do, even today.”

His name is Taako, and unlike the other lighthouse keepers Kravitz has seen on this tour his moms dragged him into, he’s about Kravitz’s age, and he’s beautiful. Kravitz hangs on every word, even though a lot of them are recycled from the other tours. There’s only so much a guy can learn about lighthouses. He tried to tell his moms this, but they just laughed and kept taking windswept pictures. He’s almost ready to thank them, though, for the privilege of getting to spend the better part of an hour in Taako’s intimate radius.

There’s not a lot of personal space in a lighthouse.

“You lot seem familiar with the poetry. I’ll skip the rest. This gorgeous beastie has been around for almost two hundred years, despite the ocean’s best attempts on her life. And she’s got something special.”

Kravitz read the pamphlet, but he asks anyway.

“What’s special about it?”

“You can divine the future from all the damn bird shit on the ground,” Taako deadpans, and then laughs at his own joke. Kravitz laughs too, so incredibly, foolishly charmed. “Nah, it’s a whole thing. Every lighthouse has got a characteristic, yeah? A pattern for the light so you know who’s who and where’s where? This one’s characteristic is a flash of one, one-two-three-four, one-two-three.”

Kravitz blinks.

“Cool?”

Taako grins. Kravitz’s moms look at each other and laugh. Kravitz had almost forgotten they were there again. Taako holds up his fingers as he spells out:

“One, four, three. I l-o-v-e y-o-u.”

Kravitz’s cheeks burn about as bright as the giant night-light above their heads.His moms awwww behind them.

“They were actually going to change it, and the community got way upset, like, ahh, I took my soulmate here when we first dated, you can’t do that, so they didn’t.”

“Wow,” Kravitz says, fully aware he sounds like a big dumb idiot. “Love wins.”

Taako snickers.

“Yeah, guess so. Hey, you crew wanna see the top?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do the stairs on this one,” Raven says, and Istus nods as seriously as she can manage. “My knees, you know.”

Traitors. Or wingladies? The world may never know.

“I’ll go with you,” Kravitz volunteers. “It’s. Cool to see the view.” He doesn’t like heights. This is a lie to talk to a pretty boy for a little bit longer. But Taako grins and leads him up the terrifying stairs, so...he wins? Taako rattles off more facts as they spiral upwards, seemingly more excited now, and Kravitz tries not to swoon, because those stairs forgive no sins, no sins whatsoever.

“So you’ve already been on a few of these tours, you’ve probably heard all the hot deets, you know, about tallow versus lard and wicks and glass chimneys, right? Fresnel lenses and all that?”

Kravitz nods, which he realizes Taako can’t see.

“Yeah, they’re also in, um.” There’s so many fucking stairs. “Car headlights.”

“Smart boy.” Kravitz gets the firm impression Taako would be winking at him if he could. His cheeks burn even brighter. He’ll guide the ships back home with his fucking face. “So I won’t bore you with all that. But I will bore you with this--did you know magic likes significant places?” He doesn’t wait for a response, mercifully letting Kravitz just climb the stairs. “And high places, too. The grip of reality is thin. And you know, sometimes, sometimes you can see things.”

Kravitz figures if he sees anything funky, it’s probably his body warning him he’s about to pass out after climbing up God’s asshole, but he keeps that to himself. Taako seems to believe it. Kravitz will pretend it’s a real thing for Taako. Gorgeous Taako.

“You don’t have a soulmate yet, do you?” Taako finally gets to the top, and he turns and offers Kravitz a hand. It feels incredibly significant. He takes it, of course, and Taako helps him up to the very top of the lighthouse. The eye of the beast glitters brightly as it slowly turns, massive and celestial in a way that leaves Kravitz reverent.

“No,” he says, editing out what gave it away, the fact that I’m on vacation with my moms?

“Cool,” Taako says, with a gap-toothed grin. “Check out that view.”

Kravitz doesn’t want to look at the view, but obediently, he turns, and he sees the world and the ocean spread out before him, glistening and inviting, and he squeezes Taako’s hand tightly as vertigo grips him by the guts and shakes him like a doll. His life flashes before his eyes--no, not his life, another man’s life, and he’s out on the sea in a little fishing boat, and he’s made the worst and definitely last mistake of his life. The storm is rolling in like a train made of pea soup, and he knows, knows deep down in his soul, he’s going to die. There’s no way he’ll find the shore again.

And then he turns, and there’s a light in the darkness, hope against the hopeless sea, flashing once, four times, three times. His love is guiding him home, and he paddles like his sorry life depends on it. And it does. He crashes on those vulturous rocks, and he imagines he’s gone and died after all, and he wakes up in a tiny bed, a man with beautiful eyes bringing him something to eat.

“I do feel awful about your boat,” he says, in a familiar voice. “But I knew you’d come back to me.”

Kravitz hurls back to the present and almost loses his clam chowder lunch about it, but Taako steadies him. Those eyes, those familiar eyes, glittering like the sea, they guide him back to reality. A beacon of hope, and all that jazz.

“What did you see?” Taako begs, absolutely thrilled. “Did you see your soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz whispers, so lightheaded and terrified and confused and happy he could just combust. “Yeah, I did.”

#taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #long post #sorry this is long it took me a bit to get to the point #okay so listen. ive been watching modern marvels on youtube and it makes me feel things okay. tonights episode was about (guess) lighthouse #anyway brrrrrrrr #fan5fics

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asterjennifer · 2 years

Text

Who's feeling?

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: Unknown x Reader

Category: Light Angst

Warnings: X

Word count: 4447

Author's Note: I'm feeling Unknown this week, apparently-

Summary: ( Based on: Casual & Deep Route Prologue BE )

This wasn't anything he'd ever been dealing with before.

Aren't you just another tool to reach his goal?

So why are you making him behave that way?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This isn't how it should be.

No word could describe his frustration. His hands were busy with other concerns which were more important than this minor matter, that's nothing in comparison to his big plans or goals. No other way would lead him where he wanted to be in order to finish the torture that's plaguing his heart for ages, this stupid game of the RFA members and their sanctimonious parties. V and Luciel specifically, it's only so much missing for everything to fall into place. The trap he prepared night after night soon would be worth the time. And the pain. There's nothing else for him to pay attention to, nothing would help reaching the ultimate salvation if it's not declared for his vengeance.

He didn't have time for silly giggles, nor for anything regarding hobbies. There's too much to prepare, things only he's able to manage. Nobody other than him's allowed the privilege of satisfaction once the moment's in his and the Savior's hands. A waste of enegery to interact with other people, it's only advantageous for the soiled purpose of completing the tasks ahead. It's been years where he lived by that lifestyle, not once it bothered him as much as it did right now. This wasn't what's supposed to happen. This wasn't what he's required to finish or even attempt, for that matter. Just a waste of precious time, not helpful for his revenge whatsoever.

You're not supposed to get involved with him in any way, that's why it confused him. Ever since he came for you, there's acceptance steaming off your care. He'd never seen that before, although he picked you for the mission in the first place. This felt different, that's not a feeling he's acquainted with. And it's fucking terrifying. He expected you to cry and beg for him to let you go, or put up a fight and win over the situation. Neither happened, though. That's the core of the problem, you're genuinely polite even though you didn't have a single reason. On the contrary, he'd bet you're learning to hate him just like everyone else for taking away your freedom when dragging you to Paradise.

Even worse, you messed up his plan by trying to pursue the situation with stubbornness. Or rather moral, he almost couldn't blame you for lying about the door's password lock. But only almost. And now that you're stuck with him, the way you're interacting with him's something he'd never experienced before. It's like a trap, all that sugarcoating and caressing as if you're interested in him or his health. He warned you before, playing tricks with him would force you through the worse nightmare you could've imagine. And his words were always loyal, if he promised such punishment, be aware it's not an empty threat. Still, despite all the fear he must've caused you, there you stood.

Arrogant and disobedient, so full of yourself for thinking you're owning the right to try distract him from work. The code on the screen's weighting more importance than your entire life. You couldn't understand a single line of ones and zeros, it's beyond your cleverness. He should've kept you locked up in the other room, there you couldn't cause trouble and instead waited all day with the time gifting you moments to think about the mistake you made back at the apartment. Apparently that's not enough of a lesson, however, since you're standing right beside his chair. Eyes so round and big it's quite hilarious if it weren't for the fact they're directed at him.

What's with your brain? Was fear a forging concept to you, or perhaps you're tired of life now that he took away the last bit of that ordinary life you've lived day in and out. A boring process he came to find out after studying your schedule. It's pissing him off, the blood that boiled up for the countless time to scratch his already thin patience until it's snapping apart. Your sent gave him nothing but headaches, especially when standing so close to him. Too sweet, too lively and comfortable. Did your nose not burn by that constant smell of flowers and candy? Didn't you have any self-respect remaining when trying to fuck his work over? What's with that facial expression that you're showing so openly.

He couldn't read it, that's a new horizon he's not fond of exploring. One not meant for a shadow living in the dark. There's no way he would dig into the meaning of your actions or words, he rather emptied a dozen of elixirs within a single minute. Your eyes sparkled under the simple albeit dark light of the computer screens, as if it's the night sky instead. Your cheeks owned color he didn't appreciate seeing, that's a show of emotions he didn't know how to handle. That red shade slightly purple because of the cold the room's embraced in. What's with the way you maintained eye contact? There's no hesitation in the response you're giving. If he wouldn't have known better, he'd say all you're showing's meant for someone else.

But you're clearly staring back at him, although he's as obvious as he could be when eyeing your facial expression with half lidded eyes. It not once worked out, though. None of it made sense, that's truly the one thing that caused your presence to become unpleasant. Unknown's true with himself since nobody else was, the things you offered and let bubble to the surface for him to examine felt dangerous. That's unusual behavior, he's not used to people looking at him with such calm. There's a lot he probably couldn't read, nor explain and as a hacker it's poking his pride like a knife. Who did you think you are by trying to hypnotize him with unexplored water? How dare you.

"What do you want."

He finally said after a long moment of nothing but tension drowning in silence. You blinked in response, your eyelashes literally fluttered against your cheeks. Yet your body's making no effort to create space, on the contrary, it felt like you're leaning closer against him. Weren't you a brave one, playing the role of a royalty. This wasn't how he thought you'll act once he's bringing you in here. That's not how it's supposed to go, you're messing things up once again. He wanted to scold you, hissing at you for the nonexistent shame that's just embarrassing. Despite the will, he kept his mouth shut. Unsure what to wait for, if he's waiting for anything at all. He stood up, that's your chance to justify your mistake.

Instead you stared up at him, the way a dog or cat pleaded to their owner in hopes to get treats. Unknown's fingertips twitched with uncertainty, his brows frowned and realxed over and over as he's still torn between thoughts. Nobody ever dared to act that way towards him, they're aware he's capable of very mean or nasty deeds. He explained it to you at the beginning. Didn't seem to concern you, though. And it's new, he's not used to people holding his gaze nor stay silent after asking them a question. What's just wrong with you? He despised the confusion deep inside his gut, he hated how it took longer for his mind to be made up. Surely you knew, which made it worse than necessary.

He's familiar with tension of evey kind, regardless if it's created by himself or other people. Sadly this felt different, that's electricity he'd never been put under. It's having him questions lots of things he usually didn't pay a second thought to. But you somehow changed that, he should punish you for such behavior. How could he, however, if his mind's working against the idea for some unexplainable reason? He should lock you away again, instead he just stood in front of you without a single movement coming from neither of you. This was uncomfortable, for the first time since he could remember, he's unsettled. Admitting that the situation's nerve-wracking.

"I wanted to see your face."

Your voice's as much of a pain in the ass as your sent. That tone's hight but therefore it's quite melodic, like an angle speaking to some unfortunate soul in order to offer pure redemption. It's not loud, Unknown never heard you yell or hiss before. Unlike any other person he met in his life. A whisper or some mumbling's your often used way to express inner opinions to him. That's also a characteristic he'd never seen in real life before. Comfortable in his ears, soft in his head. Such an inconvenience, he didn't like any of these things about you. They're weird, they couldn't be real by how absurd they made him feel inside. This hesitation he's required to face, that's your fault alone.

Not to mention your words. Always so careful, thoughtful even when addressing him personally. Not over the top for the simple reason of manipulation, you're not saying things that would flatter him. In the same moment there's a honest touch in whatever you're sharing. Like you're not afraid to speak your mind and deal with possible consequences if it upsets him. You wanted to see his face? For what purpose? That's useless, exactly like how you're trying to act as if you're waiting for him to come closer. Was that your goal? What did your words meant? Nothing about you made sense, not a single aspect felt logical. Sometimes he wanted you to be nothing other than some programmed machine.

"That's an pathetic attempt to wrap me in."

What's coming over his lips? While the words left his mouth, he immediately realized he didn't understand these either. The longer you stood in front of him, the harder it became to not push you out of the room. He should've, he's aware better than anyone, these eyes of yours didn't give him a chance. And he's unaware why that is. You're close enough for him to see the pattern of your eyes, watch the colors shift with your mood. Close enough to make out the little imperfections on your skin, or your hairline and the little hair strands rebelling against your hairbrush. He's near you in a way where he's able to feel the warmth of your body come in contact with his.

What's your trick here? What was it you tried to gain when messing on the edge of sanity? Would you really not learn until it's too late to apologize? Did it make you feel better about the situation when provoking him? We're you even aware of anything regarding his considerations at all? There's something off about you, as you're one of the very few people he couldn't understand. His Savior is one of them at times, but even when she preached nonsensical believes, there's always a part inside of him capable to comprehend the intensions. But you? For once in his meaningless life, Unknown's clueless. Not one day passed by where you didn't have him questions both you and Mint Eye itself.

"I wanted to see you, that's all."

"For what purpose."

The corner of your lips pulled upward, the red, almost pink a harmonizing difference to your skin color. Then it turned into a smile. Genuine and therefore not as wide, however, it looked better than he liked to admit to himself. Why were you enjoying yourself? He's serious, he's dead serious actually. Couldn't you jump over the shadows and ask what it is you wanted? Why were you trying these lame tricks on him, he'd seen them happen countless times and they ended in vain for the opponent every single time. There's no need to go behind his back and try getting on his good side, he didn't have one anymore. It would be easier if you're honest.

"No purpose, just wanted to see your face."

The smile remained on your lips, somehow it shone brighter than before. Liar, that's not the truth. There must've been a reason, why else would you approach him. Whatever your motivation had been, sooner or later you would realize he's not going to break under the sweet pressure you're trying so desperately put him under. And then you would reveal yourself, it's only a matter of time, like with everything else in life. Your stare's steady regardless, no particular fear and no particular anger. What else could you possibly be feeling? There's a limit nobody should cross, yet you're so willing to step over every given boundary the moment a chance occured. Maybe you're tired of life after all.

It truly scared him once your hands reached up to take hold of his cheeks, rushing further to brush into the start of his bleached hair. His eyes widened by that sensation, it's been ages another soul came in contact with him, especially with such a soft touch. Although it frightened him, which he could never admit to either of you, he didn't say anything. He couldn't move from the spot, not even lift his hand to slap your arms away. How fucking dare you. Seriously, who did you think you were when continuing to stare into his eyes like nothing happened? How arrogant and shameless. His frustration narrowed his throat, these things weren't part of his knowledge anymore. The way your fingers held his head up's out of his control.

That's not how it's supposed to be, you're supposed to fear him and cry for mercy. Ask him to let you run away, get out of this nightmare you're forced to go through. You should hit him if the anger became too hard to manage, do anything to put a fight. None of it took place before, he doubted it would ever happen either. Look at you, so brave and charming by thinking you wrapped him around your finger with some empty words and meaningless gestures. In reality it's only him who's capable to save you, no other person's in the position to ensure your safety. And yet you decided so selfishly to play with fire. Maybe he should get you burned this time, what's going on's unacceptable. This touch's foreign, it's uncomfortable and hurt.

"I missed your eyes."

You confessed, some of the strength left your system when being truthful about your longing for his presence. The hair on his neck stood from his body, the shiver that ran down his back's a disgusting feeling. That's not what should come out of your mouth. How could you miss anything of him, most of all his eyes. They're filled with remorse towards the outside world and shattered into pieces by the endless routine of pain caused by the elixir. What's there to miss? Nobody would miss him if he's gone, not even his Savior since she's going to replace him with someone else in an blink of an eye, quicker than anyone could suspect. There you go again, forcing him to face false structures in the system he's living in for years. Were you aware of what you're risking?

"You're on very thin ice."

He warned, both of you could tell there's not much weight to these words. And it pissed him off even further, knowing you're seeing this uncertainty inside his action's a nightmare. He needed to get this under control, he needed you to shiver in pain and cry in fear to get this embarrassment over with. So why's he standing there, letting you touch him with the care of a true angel? This horrible territory, he refused to acknowledge you're aware of this better than he could ever become. It's like the opposite side of his entire motivation, the reason for his life to continue in the first place. You seemed wide awake in using the unknown against him. Speaking of having no shame whatsoever

You pulled him out of thoughts and his head an inch closer against your own. Thin ice, that's what you're on right at the moment. But as always, it didn't seem to bother you, if anything, you're stomping onto it for the layer of water to break into a thousand pieces. What's going through your mind? What idea had you thinking that doing this would end with a positive outcome? How were you bold enough to try bring him closer. Him, from all the people on this godforsaken earth. Only after feeling your thumb stroke small circles over his skin, he noticed his body's trembling slightly. Why? What's that for a reaction? What's going on? That's not how it's supposed to go. You're having too much fun.

You're only a movement away from him, now he could take in the wamrth on your face as well. So close, your head titled a bit to the right as you shut your eyes. There's not much to focus on anyways, everything's coming to an hold as Unknown stayed stiff in his current position. Now that's new. You didn't do that before, you've never asked in silence for such intimacy. It got his heart to beat louder, reminding him against his will he's very alive and very much capable to feel the fear it brought. What did you expected of him? He didn't owe you anything. His hair tickled when brushing over your forehead, patiently waiting for whatever you're communicating with this. There's no chance in hell you wished for something as simple as a kiss. Did you imply you wanted a kiss when holding him like this?

Your breath hit his lips, making him painfully self-aware over every inch of his body. You wanted him to trap him that way? Maybe using the moment against him in the near future? You're clearly onto something he's unable to see through yet. Just what kind of intention was it. Good? Bad? Did you have any kind of intention at all? The start of your lips came in contact with his when shifting on your feet, it send a shockwave of panic through his veins. Nobody ever came that close to him, let alone waiting for him to end the torture and close the gap. What's he supposed to do? No hacking would bring the answer, no research would reveal the truth to him. Using violence wouldn't get him an explanation, he couldn't do anything.

"Why are you doing this."

He whispered. Speaking loudly or, heaven forbid, yell wasn't an option when you're only an inch away from him. You sighed softly, the air cooled the heat that somewhere between now and then crept over his features, it's not pleasant. He despised how he felt, how you didn't leave him alone for once. He's regretting he brought you, now look what situation you put him through. With his head torn apart and body responding in ways he's not consenting to. That's not his style, he's rarely the one speechless. When it came to you, there didn't seem to be an escape route. You're a dead end, one he couldn't understand. How he got stuck there in the first place.

"I wanna feel you close."

"Why would you want that."

You giggled lightheaded, sending another wave of electricity down his body, one he didn't want to feel. He didn't want to make these new discoveries, how he wished they're not going to haunt his head later when he's trying to fall asleep. Every since you arrived, it's been difficult to find inner peace. You turned everything upside down, every thread and every decision based on his worldview's messed over until they're melting into another. He didn't know how you're doing it, let alone how to fix it. He should keep you far away, not let you explore this entire construct under any circumstances. He needed to finally stop your curiosity. How he's supposed to make it reality?

"I don't know.. I just want to."

Honest, that's what it sounded like. Could that really be the case? That you're not knowing why exactly you're trying to lure him into the light of yours, as if you're willing to share that beauty with him. His darkness wouldn't have any advantage for you, you didn't need him for anything. Like he didn't need to know every reason for your deeds. He couldn't help but go in circles until his head broke apart, the need to comprehend your entire being's hard to overpower. It's growing with the minute, he even abandoned his work just to stand across from you. One day you'd pay for what you've done to him, he would make you go through hell for this and finally feel safe again.

He leaned in, giving you whatever you're hoping to receive by pressing his lips against yours. They're soft, just the way your voice lingered in his ears despite your absence. Calling him by name when slumbering. How your sent couldn't leave the room anymore, the words of yours that tried to cut through goddamn lead until it's broken. What's your goal? Was this what you wanted? Unknown closed his eyes, feeling the lips of yours move against him almost experimentally. That's not good, he didn't like that you're getting what you demanded. Then again, it's somehow bringing his soul a moment of peace when focusing on your touch entirety. Your hair's groomed well under his fingertips.

It's like he imagined, maybe a tad more broken at the tips. You sighed into the kiss afterwards, letting him push your head back some more. He could feel you shudder by his nails scratching carefully over your scalp, your body apparently liked the feeling since it came closer until it's soon onto his own. Your shape's smooth, your curves fit against his own oddly perfectly. You gasped lightly as he brought the other hand underneath your shirt, touching the bare skin of your back. It's heated and, like everything else of you, soft. Your arms around his neck, brushing the hair there send goosebumps over his skin. It's a lot at once, he's unfamiliar with careful touches like yours. With sweet kisses like these.

Silently he gave you space to express this side of attention, he couldn't do it himself. Therefore the lead's yours, although it's only for this one time. Only one time, he couldn't afford to let you grow even bolder. No chance in hell he's going to surrender to this, show what he would manage to offer. Years passed without someone searching for his kindness, the main reason why he left it behind. You're going to regret this, you would feel sorrow once he's fed up with this dumb game you're ruling over and then you're forced to scream the truth into his face. Your hand rushed through his hair, playing with the chaos, smoothing it down as good as you could. There were lots of mistakes you made, yet this was your biggest one so far.

You pulled away to breath, not taking steps back and give him the option to collect his thoughts. Instead you pressed your forehead to his, like you're showing affection. What a stupid, navie thing you were. Did he look that dumb to you? Weren't you seeing that this was going to bite back in he future? How come you didn't care about your wellbeing the way you cared about coming closer into his space. You're lost beyond hope, not even his Savior would accomplish to fix you. You're simply out of your mind, he didn't had to think about any of this. There's no digging under the surface, he couldn't deal with the results of that. He's busy with more important matters, things that actually lastet.

"Congratulations. You played yourself."

He said dryly, quite dull for his standards. You didn't seem affected, all he witnessed was another little chuckle before you went back into the moment for another kiss. Your back ached slightly when he pressed his fingers into your spine, he could hear your breath getting caught in the back of your throat. Although it's the opposite of what he's supposed to do, he pulled you down with him onto the chair. You straddled his sides, legs hanging down at the sides until it's comfortable. This time he's the one pulling away, seeking your eyes for something that proved him right, searching for contradictions to your kisses. There's none of that kind, though. His stomach sank immediately.

You smiled just as sweetly as before, eyes a captivating ocean regardless the current color. He didn't want to drown, he shouldn't look into them either. He wouldn't swim because you asked him to. Whatever you're trying to give's obviously not meant for him, none of the feelings belonged to him. They're yours, spilling over at him for whatever reason. Didn't you consider they might never find their way inside? What motivated you to repeat the same signals over and over again, even though he didn't answer once. Why weren't you scared of the dark edges that tore apart everything and everyone that came in contact with him? Just what were you doing to him? Why did it felt so frightening?

"Let me work now."

His words cut the silence, another aspect of you that's having no substance. You're often emotional, he could see the storm taking place behind your eyes, yet you're so quiet all the time. Where's your better judgement? Didn't your parents taught you about bad people like himself? You placed both hands on his chest, much against his liking. Still, he didn't complain out loud. One's right above his heart, the thought you're able to feel it beat this fast wasn't nice to consider. Therefore, he pushed the possibility aside. Why weren't you scared of him, it would make this all so much easier. He didn't have to think and question so hard, sadly favors never worked out for him. Life always kicked him off the cliff.

"Okay, boss."

Was all you chimed before closing your eyes to cuddle into his body. He hated it. He hated you for having the audacity to act like he's worth something. For confusing him without using effort. Seemingly carrying because there's certainly something you hoped to get in exchange, taking your sweet time for the sake of his damaged pride. Whatever you're doing, it wouldn't work. He's shutting the good options out, that's less scary. It's not as terrifying when convincing himself you're like the rest of the outside world, it helped to stop breaking his thoughts over this unusual relationship. At least you're quiet now. Unknown clenched his jaw, going back to type hacker code with you resting on his lap.

This isn't how it should be.

But he's not strong enough to change it.

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