#hope you enjoy your stay restrooms are down the hall to the right

[allpromarlo]

i can't believe cj was there to bless us for the draft

#did anybody count the number of new blorbos yet #i know we got shaedon sharpe and jabari walker but like who else #is it just those two #if yes welcome youngins to the land where forwards come to die #hope you enjoy your stay restrooms are down the hall to the right #but no this night was RUFF for me #after sleeping 4 hours in the evening (!!) i was awake for 3 hours and then went back to sleep 4 hours again #so in the end i somehow - in a fucked up way - got 8 full hours of sleep #don't look at me i don't know how it happened either #nba #portland trail blazers #shaedon sharpe #new orleans pelicans #cj mccollum #cj mcdonalds #this dude's mentally still a blazer i'm convinced #like he still considers himself part of the team and some of our dudes do too

[rosewaterandivy]

9. part-time soulmate, full-time problem

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), we think we’re ~prank Sinatra~ to disastrous effect i.e. a fake elopement, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: hey girl, u up? lemme come thru 💦💦💦 🥵🥵🥵 *slaps roof of fic* You can fit so much reverence and smut in this bad boy. Here’s 5.1K of pure filth and debauchery, holy water can’t help me now! Poetry excerpt from Sue Zhao. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Steve's playlist for Trouble: trouble will find me

previous || next

Now, Spring Break, Joshua Tree, CA ➡️ Las Vegas, NV 

“You did what?”

And it’s not a question, not by a long shot. 

If Nancy Wheeler wasn’t some 1,800 miles from you, you’d be seeing the patented snarl right now. The one that says ‘you’ll be dead by my hand and my hand alone.’

There’s a very real possibility that you’ve overplayed your hand this time. What started as a prank, a harmless lark, had devolved into one screeching phone call from Steve’s mother for him and a blistering series rapid-fire of texts for you, followed by a phone call during which Nancy was going to rip you a new asshole.

She didn’t appreciate your texts as you’d hoped.

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: so BDE is not *just* an energy with Steve. got it, good to know.

Natty light 💯: She lives! We haven’t heard from you in days. Wtf did you idiots do?

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: nothing to be concerned about! on an unrelated note, before you check insta remember that i am your BESTIE and you would miss me terribly(!!!) if i died, even if it was at your own hand

Natty light 💯: … I’m going to kill you, and resurrect your dessicated corpse so I can strangle you … slowly and painfully

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: pls mother, no, i’m scared

But hey, it’s not like you woke up and decided to potentially fuck up your life today.

So, yeah. Definitely went too far with it this time, but in your defense, it’s not like anyone was there to reign you in. Steve was just as liable to go on with your half-cocked schemes, even more so now that you could sit back on your heels, all pretty smiles and wide, sweet eyes as your hands unbuckle his belt, still supplicated with chin on his knee, “You said anything...”

Folded like a house of cards the second you got your mouth on him. Shudders when you begin with your tongue first before eager lips stretch to fit him, guiding until he’s nestled in your mouth. And then you move, deliberately measured, building a lazy pace, sluicing him up with spit.

“Ah, shit…” Steve’s words are already betraying him. You smile as his cock pops out of your mouth.

“How’s that? Still wanna make that dinner reservation?” Thick lashes framing glittering doe-eyes peer up at him. Purposely coy. “Or do you want to stay here?”

He returns to himself. Dazed, he blinks at the bright lights and the glossy tiled floor. The marble countertop of the sink where he grips like a lifeline.

The restroom down the hall of the restaurant. Turn a corner and twenty people are sitting at tables, drinking cocktails and cajoling. Your mouth back on him wipes the thoughts from his brain.

Squelching when you push him back past your molars, crushing your tongue.

You slide him out, voice hoarse and breathy and it chills him to the bone the way you whisper, “C’mon baby, let’s have some fun.”

The second day in California runs a lot more smoothly, and the third day is as easy as a breeze. Granted, it’s a hot, humid, sticky type of desert breeze as you wipe a hand across your forehead in the heat of the day.

Steve hums a patient tune, leans back on both palms and you watch the sunlight drape his bare chest in a warm flare. Glowing gold and bronze as if it’s transmuted from the hue in his very eyes.

He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been months and the first man you touch is more like something carved by a master sculptor of Renaissance than any other man. It should be illegal for someone to look this good.

Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.

“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This–” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already…”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.

“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of muscles.

And you’re abruptly startled awake by the sound your own moans. It’s past four in the morning when you rouse from sleep, frustrated to leave behind the pleasant escape the dream provided.

Damn it all to hell.

A creak of the wood door alerts you to his arrival. Steve is quiet when he sits on your bed, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg slinks down by your side, thigh brushing yours where your legs kicked off the covers. A sigh rolls through him at the early hour.

There is discomfort. His body retreats with the shift of your atmosphere. Always too itchy in your own skin. Afraid of being seen, noticed, thought about. He’s good at hearing your silence. Good at reading your language.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

He glistens like a god come to drown you in the sweetest of dreams. It makes your heart plummet to its death at the thought of his departure when you shake your head.

“Me neither.”

He lays back on your bed with a tired sigh, close enough to touch. Your own personal wonder.

“C’mere then,” you tug him to your side. Steve presses his lips to your neck, smiles into the wispy hair at the nape, nuzzles your locks aside to reveal more shoulder. Breathing soft and slow with his face against your neck, chest to your chest. He’s folded and tucked against you, all his strength and gravity nestled to your side.

“Honey—” Steve murmurs, more purposefully now, rasps your name, so soft and reverent you almost don’t hear it.

A confused noise, a second of readjustment to a new position, to his touch, and then you stir and purr.

“Hey, you.” Voice like warm fire, even with disrupted sleep from past few days.

A heavy silence falls between you.

Tell me what you’re thinking. If it was a mistake, tell me. If it wasn’t, tell me. You’ve been avoiding me and look—I want your goddamn babies, but c’mon. You gotta throw me a bone, I’m shit at reading signs.

He wants to take you to pieces, eyes roving your sleep-drowsy form, shorts rucked up on your thighs, shirt askew. Would devour you whole if you’d let him, savor your cries and moans at his capable hands. Make a ruin you only to build you right back up, unable to think of anyone else save him.

Steve arches, brushing the tip of his nose against your chin, up to your own nose, mouth hovering but not quite touching, just feeling each other’s atmosphere. You cross the distance and kiss him, grip tighter now like he could collapse right into you and god, you wish he could. Let you keep every last bit of him forever.

“Can we—”

You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow with your own, tongue flicking over the corners of his mouth, punctuating it chastely like a ritual. He moans, hand on the plane of your back moving, fingers scrambling at your spine before he palms your thigh and slots you flush against his torso with one leg hooked around his waist.

“God yes. Lemme just—”

He tugs at the waistband of your sleeping shorts before he changes his mind and his hands slip into the leg opening of the silk instead, keeping you right where you are. He rucks his own sweats down, just enough to spring himself free, shushing your whines, never letting you get too far, slipping upward, finding your heat.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

“Okay, Steve—ah—”

Right. So this is happening. Like, right the fuck now. 

Oh god.

You’re both surprised and terrified, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too. A beatific grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and slowly glide yourself down his considerable size, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

Steve stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

A half-hearted cluck of your tongue gives way to a low moan and you shuffle, flush against his chest, bare bodies warm and growing hotter now. Your palm rubs down his chest, savoring the rougher feel of his hairs there, contrasting your own skin, grasping his jutting hipbones, the strong plane of his abdomen.

Eager fingers slip between flesh. Velvet and surprisingly slick and wrapping around his digits like syrupy flower petals. “Baby girl,” Steve hums at the way you sigh. “Pretty girl.”

Shudders. You’re weak and boneless, slack and supple, pliant to his fingers and words. Little sweet-talker, you never knew he had such a clever tongue until he first slid it against yours in that fevered kiss in December. Now he’ll know all your weaknesses, know every lock and how to pick them until you’re all the way opened up for him.

It’s hard to focus when he’s like this. Perfectly warm. Perfectly adoring. Perfectly fitted. So, so bright with the faintest pink bursting over his cheeks.

You whimper with his every stroke. Every plunge. His other hand runs itself up the nape of your neck, fingertips in your scalp and you arch like a cat for more. 

“So good,” Steve praises, “Nice and tight, squeezin’ around me. All wet for me, aren’t you?” 

“Uh— mhm.” Inarticulate noises. Woozy and wrapped in his affection.

His eyes– pupils blown wide, half-hooded with lust and love– immobilize you, memorizing every inch of your face. He smiles. Christ, a smile that could launch a thousand ships. That could blind the whole world.

You curse quietly, blood pounding in your ears, your chest, your throat where he latches on with his perfect mouth, marking you up with his spit quickly followed by his teeth.

“Keep going—oh, don’t stop–“

“You want it like this, honey?” He sucks on your collar, on your shoulder, taking every whimper and cry as a command to continue.

They flower all over your chest. Red and purple and swollen bright for everyone to see—just like him. And the very thought of him, of you, lost to it takes you over the edge, calling his name like you’re at an altar in supplication.

“That’s it, honey. Be a good girl and come for me.”

With a tremble that vibrates all the way to into Steve’s soul, you obey. Onto his hips and abdomen, gushing a little, and with some embarrassment that it happened all so quickly. 

Your lids flutter open and you see as Steve hitches himself deeper, grinding his hips, gripping your thighs, and fills you all the way up until the stars behind your eyes whites out your vision, making you stutter and keen as you continue to fall apart.

Then he stills, pulling you even closer, body slick with dew in the early morning light. The two of you lie in perfect symmetry, trembling in each other’s arms.

And because you’re a sap with too much poetry rattling around your brain, all that pops into your head is:

In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been?’ I say, ‘I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.’

You allow yourself to sink into the feeling, expecting the tight fit of something new but finding that not to be the case at all. But rather brushing against something well-worn, as if it had been waiting for you all this time. 

“God, Steve—” you rasp. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Steve laughs low, kisses the blooming bruises up and down your neck, makes you whine again, sensitive and aching. His clever tongue wonders sweetly, “How’s staying in bed all day sound?”

You laugh. He’ll learn everything you like. Know all your weaknesses. How can you say no to something like that?

It’s different, almost tender in the afternoon. 

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Steve begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s powerless against you.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Stevie.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Steve holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet, you just started back up again after a late breakfast, having slept soundly through the morning, and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second–”

Using the position you’re already in, he pushes you up against the mattress and guides you back down, hitching your thighs around his hips, sinking a bit at a time until you’re landing on him with a gasp. He eases into you with what he hopes is restraint, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Eddie?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a series of hook ups. A few times over the years—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Steve wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking down below him, tipping back into the pillows, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Baby, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Steve promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Steve could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

Two weeks prior…

“Eddie…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, folding clothes (well, that’s a generous term— it’s more haphazardly tossing and bundling laundry into your open suitcase). “It’s good, isn’t it? Shawty, tell me what that thang do!” 

You waggle your brows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Steve thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with the most recent episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Half-keeping an eye on you to make sure you actually pack actual pajamas and pants for this trip. 

“Dude. Stop it.” Eddie groans, knowing you’re all too familiar with his endowments and prowess from previous experience.

Whomever currently was getting the Eddie Munson midnight special was having a helluva time. 

You lob a pair of leggings toward your suitcase, “Kobe!”

You miss.

Eddie cackles, “How’re you gonna disrespect a legend like that, and miss?!”

“Okay!” Steve yells, pushing you off the couch in the living room, “That’s enough of that. I’m going for a run.”

Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.

“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Steve!”

The scrape of the chair legs signals Eddie standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”

There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his… activities under the sheets his flavor of the month. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Eddie points sharply down the hall to where Steve’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.  

“You know he likes you, right?”

Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”

Eddie cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”  

“Now,” Eddie leans over you, menacing you with his height. “How about you go listen to the record he gave you and think about what you’ve done, hmm?”

Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Steve? In love? With you?  

Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning errand runs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.

Steve? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think.

Back in your bedroom and chastened, you wait until the front door closes signaling Steve’s exit. Turning to the wall dedicated to your impassioned analytical skills, you eye the various colors of yarn showing the various connections that could be drawn from the song choice and order in which they were placed. 

Printed out pages of lyrics have been annotated to death, some phrases scrawled more largely than others for importance. You stare at the wall for the better part of an hour, long enough to come to the end of the playlist. Sufjan Stevens rhapsodizes on the mystery of love and fades into Matt Berninger singing how he needs his girl.

A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest as you slowly, methodically begin removing the pins and pages from your wall. Realization settling on you heavy with mood. 

Clearly, this was not some bush-league bullshit.  

Hesitant, but growing in the knowledge that Steve, your best friend whom you annoy to no end, is irrefutably and undeniably in love with you. You’d have seen it sooner if you weren’t such a dumbass, all the signs had been there just lying in wait. The front door opens once more, his voice calling out to Robin in the kitchen about dinner. 

“Steve.” You light out of your room, tearing down the hallway. “Stevie! Steve! I’m sorry! Steve oh my god! I’m a fuckup!”  

You trip on the corner of the floor runner, as he turns, slightly confused, one hand reaching out to catch you as you careen into his chest with a thunk.

You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, him sweat-slick, bearing your weight as he sets you right on your feet.  

Steve raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front of your shirt slides from your shoulder and takes his ear buds out, looking at you like you’re a first-rate idiot.

And well ... he’s not wrong.

The flight to Vegas is painless, though you are put out at having to leave the love nest that bloomed like a night flower in the Californian desert. A lazy, slow start to the day. Sticky and sweet like biting into a ripe peach, juices flowing down against sun-warmed skin. 

His hand pulling at yours, guiding you through the crowds of the airport, looking back to you frequently, as if he can’t bring himself not to. One hour later and viva, Las Vegas!

As it turns out, it’s fairly easy to fake a Vegas elopement. Just a matter of subterfuge and a wedding chapel, which are a plenty in Clark County. Steve in a suit (“You weren’t even wearing a tie, Steven! Who gets married looking like that!?”), rotating the signet of his ring out of sight, the ‘H’ resiting against the underside of his ring finger so just the band was visible. 

You in a dress, something white and off the rack from Neiman’s, your ring, courtesy of Steve, moved from your right hand to your left. Sapphire earrings as your something blue, Manolo Blahnik pumps in your favorite color, a gift from Steve, as your something new.

A well-timed call to Jonathan, he was in town for a shoot and just so happened to have a few hours to kill. An appointment at the Graceland Wedding Chapel and 250 dollars later, you have yourself a believable elopement, no marriage certificate required. 

Even drove out to the Red Rock Mojave desert outside of town for a photoshoot courtesy of one Jonathan Byers, professional photographer. By the time you’d made it back to your room at the Wynn that night, he’d already done a rough edit of a few photos for you to post to the ‘gram. Piece of cake, really.

It was all well and good. Steve even let you tag him and posted his favorite images himself, miracle of miracles. The man does jack shit with social media, claims he only has the account for the groupchats and memes. Captioned it something like ‘married AF’ because he’s a dork; first photo in the carousel was a shot of your hands, showing off the new bling with the wedding chapel sign in the background.

You opted for the more truthful, ‘ew, boy. you’re, like, obsessed with me’ and selected a photo where your legs wrapped around Steve’s hips after he’d told you to ‘time to giddy-up, yeah?’ with a wink and caught you in his arms before kissing you stupid. You were quite pleased with yourself until the phones began to ring.

“Jus’ ignore it, honey.” His teeth pull against your bottom lip, bringing your attention back to him. You screw your eyes shut, hand falling to cup the nape of his neck as his lips continue their mapping of your skin. Purposefully, he plays with a lock of your hair, tucks it behind your ear, and lets his finger ghost over your neck. “Gonna kiss you now,” you murmurs, “Doin’ some of my best work here and you’re missing it.”

He pouts.

Your throat clenches, bobbing with a thick swallow and Steve thinks if this wasn’t so tender and sweet, he’d be latching onto that pulse instead. “Okay…” Your mouth parts expectantly, eyes fluttering closed, hand coming up to caress his jaw.

It’s sublime. It’s perfect. It’s the biggest relief he’s ever felt when you return his touch—parting your lips to receive the tip of his tongue against yours. Thirst. Desperation. Enthusiastic limbs scrambling to feel more of him. A bucking of your hips against his thigh and he’s soaring up into heaven with the sensation.

Except the damn phone won’t stop ringing. 

“Steve,” you pant, hand reaching up to fist his hair and pull him from your the sensitive spot he’s located behind your ear. As you tangle your fingers in his mane of hair, securing your grip with a tug, he breaks contact with your slick skin with a strangled moan.

Oh.

You file that particular reaction away for further investigation and direct his attention to the loudly ringing phone on the nightstand. He rolls off of you with an exasperated noise and answers the call in a sulk. “Hi, Ma.”

His expression changes so quickly you nearly have whiplash; lazy and pouty one moment to shocked silent in the next while his mother lectures him, a mile a minute. Eyes cutting to you, he grabs your phone from the same table and holds it in font of you to unlock it via Face ID. You roll your eyes and bat him away, taking a slug of water from the glass on your bedside table.

“Shit,” Steve mutters, putting himself on mute and his mom on speaker as he scrolls through your phone. “Holy fucking shit, nonono.”

You lean over and take a peek. He’s thumbing through Facebook, pupils blown wide in shock at the sheer number of notifications on his accidental post. Because yes, Steve accidentally cross-posted the photos from Instagram to Facebook as an update, like genius. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

He drops your phone on the bed when it starts to ring, like it’s a venomous thing that could take him down in one strike. 

Sheepishly, he looks to you and mouths ‘I’m so sorry’ as he returns to his mother’s raging diatribe. 

After checking the caller ID, you answer, voice flat. “Hello.”

“You little scamp,” Eddie tuts, “Stole my idea of eloping in Vegas and everything, I hate you.”

In spite of yourself, you crack a smile. “It’s a prank, babe.” A sigh as you pull your hair up and off of your shoulders. “Not legally binding at all. Having Byers on deck really sold the idea though.”

“You are the absolute worst, Trouble.” You warm at his soft laughter, “What’d you do to get Steve to agree? Drop to you knees all nice and pretty?”

A swell of pride accompanies the rush of heat at the thought of your earlier rendezvous. “Y’know Eds, I did exactly that. How perceptive of you.”

He cackles. “It’s tried and true for a reason, babe.” Steve is nodding furiously at whatever his mother is yammering on about, bare back toward you as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

A push and a slide across the rumpled sheets and you’ve wrapped around him like a vine. His thumb rubs at your ankle, pulling your leg to envelop his hip. Opposite arm dangling across his chest as you press your face into his neck, revelling in his scent—cypress, vetiver, and something slight musky tinged with salt. All warm and pliable.

“Nance may have called in some reinforcements.” Eddie says carefully. “I told her to fuck off, but she’s beyond reason at this point.”

“Whaddya mean?”

He sighs, “Just be on the lookout for an angry lesbian, alright?”

You snort, drawing Steve’s attention. He twists in your hold, phone discarded on the table finally, fingers trailing tantalizingly up and down your sides. Pushes you back against the bed, chin resting on your sternum as you talk with Eddie, head tilted as he listens.

Begging off the phone call, you say your goodbyes. “Hey,” Eddie says before you go, voice soft and warm, “You happy babe? You sound it.”

“Yeah,” you turn your head and grin at the ridiculousness of your life. Steve follows your lips, his own blazing a trail across your chest and up to meet your shoulder. “I’m really happy, Eds.”

Steve plucks the phone from your hand, “Bye Munson!” He sings before ending the call and unceremoniously dropping your phone on the floor.

And Steve never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Steve’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Robin swings it open and Steve is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” She hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Rob!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a shirt, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Steve is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispers again, “Oh… my god.” She sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” she hisses, before screaming, “Oh fuck no! I’m here picking your asses up. Got on a flight at ass o'clock from Indy— you're butt-ass-naked in here—” She stands ram-rod straight, hands on her hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on you.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Rob!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m exhausted! And well— you're exhausted too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

She snickers, high-fiving herself before crossing her arms, “Now get your freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Harrington’s dick.”

You pat her on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Robin dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Steve closes the door to the now-silent hotel room, damp with sweat and the lingering aroma of musk. Robin trots on ahead, leading the pair of you through the lobby and out into the dry desert heat.

His hand pulls at yours, reassuring and warm. A small smile blooms across your face and you allow yourself to revel in it for a moment: heading home with Steve, can't even bring yourself to be all that mad at Robin's antics.

Not when he turns back to check on you, all tan skin and that devastating smile. Tugs you closer as Robin flags down the Uber, lays his lips against yours, and kisses you with a sweetness only he could bring.

Oh yeah, you think tangling your free hand in his shirt. This'll do just fine.

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #reader insert #teacher!steve #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

[mochie85]

So I had an idea if you want to take it. I love your writing sooooooo much.

So the reader is the newest maid and when She goes to clean Loki's room she's surprised to see him in the bath. Everything in her is telling her to leave but she stays and watches him. Well this turns into a somewhat daily ritual. She saves Loki's room for last so she gets there as he's getting into the bath. Of course Loki knows. He knew she was watching him from day one but let it go on because he was curious as to what she would do. Would she join him or stay in the literal shadows. We'll Loki makes that decision for her one night and tells her that if she is going to watch him she might as well join him. While they bath together and get "busy", Loki discovers that she's ticklish and decides to tickle her for making him wait so long.

Hope you like the idea but feel free to say no. 💙💚💜🖤

All The Right Places

One-Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry this took a while friend. I had never written a tickle fic before. My research was very eye-opening indeed 😈. This is a long one too. I hope you enjoy it. As always my ASKS are open. Stop by even just to say 'Hi'. 😁😘 Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Smut-fingering, masturbation, voyeurism. Tickling. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Life in the palace wasn’t so bad. You received new sets of clothes with a clean apron. The kitchen arranged three meals a day for you. And, provided that there wasn’t some big event or someone very important visiting, you would have one day a week, off.

You started as a chambermaid for the lowly courtiers, hoping to work your way up as one of Queen Frigga’s maids-in-waiting. You knew it wouldn’t be overnight, but if you were diligent and worked hard, you could be there in no time.

You worked mostly in the mornings, making the beds after they had been slept in. You left small tokens on the courtier’s pillows; flowers, or books that the courtiers mentioned they were looking for. Sometimes chocolates for the children.

At night, you would turn down the beds and make them look inviting for the residences of the palace. In the short time, you worked there, you had moved up from being the chambermaid to the dignitaries and courtiers to the chambermaid to the princes themselves. It won’t be long now, till you get to work for the queen herself.

Having just finished Prince Thor’s room, you made your way down the gilded halls into Prince Loki’s wing. You smiled at the guard posted to the prince’s door and knocked. No answer.

The guard wouldn’t stand by if Prince Loki was not in his room. You knocked louder, hoping to get the prince’s attention. You decided to go in and announce your presence. Looking down to the floor, you quickly came in and bowed.

“Your highness, I’m here to turn down your chambers for the night.”

There was no response. You stood there, bowed, waiting for a reply, or a rebuke. Anything. You dared to look up, only to be met with an empty room. Taking a big sigh, you decided to just finish what you came here to do.

You stoked the fire, adding two more pieces of wood to the hearth. You opened the windows slightly, to let the scent from the Queen’s garden inside. You tidied up here and there, picking up books and parchment off the floor and settling them upon the prince’s desk. Lastly, you pulled his blanket and top sheet down to an angle and fluffed the pillows making sure it was inviting for the royal.

Putting the last pillow down on the bed, you heard a soft humming and splashing coming from the comfort room to the side. You rolled your eyes at the realization that Prince Loki was in the en suite. Of course, he was there. How had I not considered looking in the restroom when I came in?

To confirm your suspicion, you went over to the door of the en suite. You were about to knock but his warm humming and loud sighs made you reconsider. He was relaxing and you didn’t want to bother him.

The door was slightly ajar, and you peaked in as you smelled the steam of pine and citrus wafting towards you. I really shouldn’t be doing this. If I get caught, he’ll think I’m a spy or worse. A pervert! Ladies should not be in the habit of spying on their betters.

You were about to turn away when the deep sound of a moan caressed your ear. Your eyes found the prince. His eyes were closed. His hair, damp and dark, like ink, stuck to the nape of his neck which was outstretched as he laid his head back resting on the edge of the clawfoot tub.

Prince Loki’s defined arms spread on either side of him as if he were welcoming you to join him. You rolled your eyes at the thought. In what realm would that ever happen? He lifted a foot outside the water and rested it on the edge. His arms sank back under, and another lip-biting moan escaped his lips.

A spontaneous whimper left your lips. You turned away, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes beamed as you realized what you had witnessed. Covering your mouth, you quickly gathered yourself and stalked out of the Prince’s room, not bothering to bid the poor guard goodnight.

The following night had you nervous and embarrassed as you prepared to turn down Prince Loki’s room. The thought of his hands sinking below the water, his long fingers gripping himself, eliciting the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard in your life, made you want to combust right there in the hallway.

“Your highness, I’m here to turn down your chambers for the night.” You were met with silence yet again as you looked up from your bow.

You noticed the thin opening of his en suite door. Calling you, beckoning you to have a glimpse. Your eyes never took off from the opening as you tended to his fire. Or, when you picked up his books and papers from the floor. Not even when you had turned down his bed and fluffed his pillows did your eyes wander far from the gap at the door.

You were drawn to it. The steam from the prince’s hot bath lured you in like an aphrodisiac. Licking your lips, you hesitantly walked over to the door.

Just like last night, Prince Loki’s well-defined arms stretched out from either side of him. His chest was heaving slowly, sensually, as he relaxed from the warm vapors of his bath. There was a terrycloth covering his eyes, warm and soothing as he let out a deep sigh.

His hands rubbed his neck, and you found yourself doing the same.  He trailed his hands down the expanse of his heaving chest and into the steaming water. He lifted one knee as his strong fingers found what he was searching for.

His moans started low at first, a gentle vibration. Then you saw the waves form in the tub as he increased his movements. You witnessed his arms flexing and relaxing in rapid succession. A sultry moan escaped his open lips. You couldn’t help but bite your lip down and close your eyes as your own hands found your pebbled nipple underneath the sheath dress and apron you had on tonight.

When you heard him reach his pleasure, your hands found themselves in between your legs, rubbing furiously, as you sought your own high in tandem with the Prince. You let out a quiet orgasm as you leaned back on the wall, trying to support yourself as your knees gave way.

What had you just done? Reality sunk back into your body. The threat of the Prince finding out you had pervasive thoughts and touched yourself to his private moments scared you. You quickly ran out of the room and hurried back to your chambers.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what you just witnessed. The prince’s strong arms, his long neck stretched out to pleasure. The sound of the water splashing as his hands brought himself to his orgasm. His moans quivering in your memories as if you can still hear him.

This was wrong. You shouldn’t be spying on his most intimate moments. But you couldn’t stop. Night after night, you had saved Prince Loki’s room for last. You always announce your presence, warning the prince, but hoping he couldn’t, or rather, wouldn’t hear you.

And each night, whenever his hands would wander down the soapy waters, your own hand would complement his actions until you both found yourself in the throes of passion.

Loki had noticed your presence around the palace. The courtiers were often thanking him and his mother for their gracious gifts upon their pillows every morning, which made them confused. For they had not requested anyone to do so.

To his mother’s investigation, it turns out you had left tokens, or sometimes small chocolates, for the courtiers after their return to their chambers. The Queen was impressed by your kindness and generosity and promoted you as the Prince’s chambermaid. Perhaps, when there is an opening in her inner circle, she might consider taking you on.

The first time Loki was on the receiving end of your kindness was when he was looking to read a new book. He had already read the ones in his personal library twice over and the ones in the main library already.

That night, as he dried himself off from his bath, he noticed a book of poetry laid out on his pillow. He stayed up all night reading the book from cover to cover. He was pleasantly surprised that you had found something he had not read. And was even more surprised that he enjoyed it.

He stalked you afterward. As much as a busy prince could. You were kind and always had on a smile. He would hear you laugh at the guard’s jokes outside his door, and often wondered how you would react to his class of humor.

The first time you had spied on him, he had no warning that you were watching him from the sliver of the doorway. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared such voyeuristic perversion. But he heard you moan. A faint whisper of passion that was stifled by propriety. A sound he was sure that no one else had heard of. Not even those unworthy guards outside who could make you laugh.

The next night, he wanted to see if you would be so bold enough to watch him again. And so, without reservation, he waited till he knew he had your attention and imagined that his hand was yours. It was your hand roaming his wet body. Your touch, that sought out his pleasure underneath the waters.

He heard you whimper again, and he knew he had you. Night after night, he invited you to watch him. Always leaving a small opening for the door. Hoping your urges would just overtake you and you would march through the doors and give yourself to him. Hearing you shuffle around in his chambers excited him. Does she know that I think about her? Does she know how much I crave her attention?

All his frustrations finally climaxed in one night. He noticed you come into the great hall as Fandral’s attendant. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were visiting his loutish brother and his mother had ascribed you to be Fandral’s maid while he was here.

Anyone but Fandral! Loki thought. That scoundrel wouldn’t be able to admire you properly as he could. He wouldn’t know how kind and generous you are with your attention. How forward and lascivious you could be.

Yet, all too soon, Fandral got caught up in your gracious manner as well. He couldn’t take his rascal eyes off you. Loki witnessed him tuck a stray hair away from your face and into the back of your ear. You let out a ticklish laugh.

Realizing what you had just divulged. You clapped your hands over your mouth and let out an apology. A warm blush traveled along your body and Loki followed the hue. His eyes enjoyed the sight as he perused over you. Fandral laughed, almost mocking you for having a secret ticklish spot.

When Loki heard your laugh, that same carefree laugh he heard when you were out mingling with his guard, he was instantly jealous. He was so entranced by the sounds you made. He treasured your moans. But that was behind closed doors and in secret. He wanted to hear you laugh carefree and only for him.

After finishing your nightly chores, and obligations to Fandral, you hurried down to Prince Loki’s chambers to set his room for the night. Greeting the guard hurriedly, you set to come inside and hurry your duties. As always, the room was empty. The door to his en suite was slightly ajar and steam from his bath furled outward luring you to come closer.

You slowly made your way toward the en suite. The familiar tile and clawfoot tub appears in your sight. Tendrils of steam gave way, but the tub was empty.

“Hello, pet,” Loki said in a deep growl behind your ear. You turned around surprised and almost giggled at the tingling sensation his voice sent down your body.

“Your highness! I – I apologize, your grace. I didn’t m-mean to…” Loki uncloaked himself from his seidr and was wearing nothing but a towel, which hung low around his waist. His defined chest was stronger and more intimidating up close. Your throat dried up and you were at a loss for words.

“I know you’ve been watching me, dear. I can hear your soft whimpers even from behind the thick door.” He said to you as he studied you. A flush of red, as the roses outside, bloomed on your lovely face and crept throughout your body.

You had been caught. There goes your goal of working for the Queen. You would be put in the dungeons for spying. Or maybe the stocks. Worse yet, exiled! You did the only thing you could do. You knelt and begged for forgiveness.

“I-I apologize your majesty please forgive me. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just saw you an…”

“How shall I punish you?” Loki said teasingly.

“Please have mercy, your highness.” You started to cry. A sound that broke Loki’s heart. He’d rather hear you laugh or better yet come undone under his many talents.

“Come now, dear pet.” He said as he tucked your hair behind your ear. The action alone made you stop crying, forcing you to hold back your giggle.  You were always so sensitive around your ears. “I think it’s only fair I get to watch you, don’t you think?”

Your eyes grew wide, and your breath hitched at what the prince had just asked you to do. He held out his hand to help you up.

You looked at it and hesitantly took his offer to help you stand. He led you to the steaming bath. The humidity steamed up the windows and made it hard for you to breathe. The smell of citrus and pine beguiles your senses as Prince Loki started to undress you.

He started with your apron, reaching behind you and untying your knot. He pushed the soft tule of your dress off your shoulders, letting them pool onto the floor. Loki noted that your blush had reddened your skin. He was eager to touch you. To find all your hidden spots that would make you lose control.

Loki bit his lip as he circled you. Trailing his finger from your back up to your shoulder. The action caused you to shiver and jump away from him. “Ah, ah, ah. Jump away like that and I’ll have to tie you down.”

“Please your highness, I’m very…sensitive to touch. I can’t handle it.” You begged.

“Oh, I can tell.” Loki traced his fingers down your neck, eliciting a moan this time. “I wonder if I can find all your sensitive areas. Get in, darling. Show me how you play with yourself.” This was only fair. After all, you had been taking your pleasure as you watched him for many nights now.

You looked at him hesitantly. His eyes sparkled and his smile was predatory. He was handsome and intoxicating. The definition of deadly charm, all wrapped up in muscle and sinew. You slowly laid yourself down on his spacious tub. The warm, soapy water felt amazing against your skin.

Loki couldn’t help but think how brave you were. You had gotten caught and instead of making up excuses and sniveling about it. You took on your punishment, as a good girl should. “Open your legs darling.” You followed his directions. Bending your knees, your feet on opposite sides of the tub. “Go on.” He said. “Pretend as if I’m not in the bath and no one can see you.”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You wanted to please him. You wanted to make this right. You didn’t want to be cast out of the palace. You love your employment here.

You closed your eyes as your hand delicately trailed down your neck. You caressed your breast and pinched your taut nipples, eliciting a deep moan from your lips.

You imagined that your hands were his, roving your body. Trapped in between his strapping muscles. His heady moans echo in your ears. You rubbed yourself, bringing you to the edge. Sticking two of your fingers inside as Loki watched licking his lips.

He dropped his towel on the floor and exposed his hardening cock. Your eyes widened at how well-endowed he was. You had never seen him out of the water. He got inside the tub, kneeling on the opposite end.

“Are you thinking about me?” Loki asked in a deep, but subdued voice.

“Mmm, yes.” You whimpered, close to your release.

“Good girl.” He praised. “I wonder what happens when I touch you here?” he began to trace his fingers up your calves to the back of your knees. You began to giggle and move your legs away from him.

“Oh, no, no, no. Remember what I said about moving away, pet? Now I’m going to have to tie you down.” He said with faux remorse. Invisible cuffs held your hands up and tied to the faucet behind you.

Your heart beat faster. You were helpless against him. He leaned closer to your body as he stroked your arm. “Where else are you sensitive, my dear?” his fingers got dangerously close to your axilla, lingering above it. You shook your head, smiling. You were ticklish, yes. But not in the usual places.

Loki had figured this out when you giggled as he touched your ear. His hands found your sides and he ran his fingers up and down, earning a sharp laugh from your lips, making you splash water around you.

The sound of your honeyed laugh immediately excited him. He loved the sound- any sound -you made. He was so glad that he could make you laugh.

“M-mercy, your ha, ha, ha-highness, please.” You begged.

“Oh, but I love the sound of your laughter.” He trailed his fingers down your body. Caressing every inch. He lingered by the apex of your thighs. Your warm cunt tempting him. “Soon.” He said more to himself. “But first, I need to hear more of your sweet, sweet laughter.” He continued his touch down, behind your knees. The contact made you close your legs and kick up and down. Splashing water over the tub.

Loki laughed as well enjoying your reactions to his teasing. “Oh, you are perfect, my dear.” He continued to tickle you behind your knees. Your laughter rang through his ears like a siren’s song. He couldn’t get enough.

He brought up your leg from under the water and began kissing your thighs. Then your calves. Granting you a momentary reprieve. He bent your knees towards your head as he brought your feet closer to him.

“No! Please, please! Your Highness. No! I-I beg of you.” You tried to pull your feet away, but Prince Loki was a lot stronger. His thumbs pressed deep into the balls of your feet, making you smile and bite down on your lip. He massaged you gently and he felt you relax at his ministrations. He gently kissed your foot and then nipped your heel making you snort ungracefully.

“What a delightful creature you are,” he said smirking. He bit your heel again, making you laugh vehemently, and he continued to kiss his way up your leg.

When his lips found the bend of your knee, he snaked his tongue out and licked you, causing you to laugh again. “Hahaha…Your high…your highness. P-plea-se hahaha.”

His fingers continued massaging their way up your thighs, leaving marks. “Just so I know all the right places where I can touch you to get your angelic laugh.”

He reached your glistening folds, and he rubbed your sensitive pearl with his thumb. A different sound came out of your lips then. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that sound. I want all of it.”

He proceeded to insert two of his fingers inside you, holding your thighs apart. You had gotten so close earlier that it didn’t take long for you to reach your pleasure now. “Y-Your highness…L-Lokiii.”

When you moaned his name, he went feral! He took you in his mouth. His fingers rimmed inside you as his thumb rubbed your delicate nub. He would not let off till your screams echoed in his en suite. Something Loki has dreamt of often.

He felt you tighten around his fingers as the tingling sensation traveled throughout your body, making you cry out his name. You panted and came down from your high, after several moments. Loki continued to kiss you. His lips felt soft and confident.

“You beautiful siren,” he said kissing the side of your lips and all along your cheek. “What other beautiful noise can I draw out from you?” He tugged your ear with his lips and you started to laugh.

He smiled and said, “I’m going to spend the rest of the night finding out.”

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[jinnify]

mixtape: on track – chapter one. when eyes meet 📝

synopsis. new girl yn had felt the need to stay under the radar ever since she arrived at yonsei uni. the last thing she needed at the start of a new semester was drama. that was until she met minho, and hyunjin had a problem with it.

“hello, my beautiful love!” you heard from down the hallway, yunjin making her presence known not just to you, but to the entire hall. you laughed as she draped her arms around you, hugging you tightly, “hi, my jinnie.” “jeez, can you guys just date already?” you heard jeongin complain from behind you two, making you spin around in yunjin’s arms, hugging her properly. “what do you losers want from me?” you ask, making eye contact with jeongin specifically. “woah? does anyone else feel targeted right now?” 

“we’re just passing by,” you heard a soft voice from behind your locker, hyunjin. “oh. okay,” at this point, you had known hyunjin and the rest of your friends for two months. you were able to get along with everyone and even got comfortable enough to make fun of each other, but there was something about hyunjin that prevented you from being able to do that with him. 

you were sure he was a nice guy. after all he was friends with yunjin, felix, seungmin and jeongin like you were, and they were all sweethearts! well, jeongin and seungmin are less so, but still! those boys wouldn’t hang out with anyone who was an asshole, you hoped. you often caught yourself not being able to look him in the eyes, or otherwise, you felt like you might explode from his gaze alone. this time was the exact same, you only gazed at his lips as a form of acknowledgment. maybe that was another reason you couldn’t look hyunjin in the eye, the man looked like he should be a model!

“we’re on our way to drama club-” “you should come with!” yunjin loudly interrupted seungmin. that boy had the patience of a monk. “i wish i could, guys, but i have a class in about fifteen minutes,” you declined as you checked your wristwatch, “if you guys are still there when i get out, i might swing by?” 

“sounds great, love!” yunjin exclaimed as she hugged you again, “okay, i have to go to the restroom real quick. you guys walk her to class, and then we can go!” you looked between the three men around you, shrugging your shoulders before starting on your way to class, “i appreciate it you guys, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“are you sure?” jeongin and seungmin asked. you simply nodded and turned back around, “sure, i don’t want to keep you guys from yunjin and whatever you guys are doing,” you said with a small smile. as much as you really did appreciate it, you still didn’t want to make the boys uncomfortable by making them do things like walk you to your class. “fine,” jeongin said before seungmin started, “we’ll see you later, right?” you chuckled, “i’ll try! if you guys aren’t there when i get out we can always go out for dinner.”

before you had made it halfway down your hall, you turned back, making sure that the boys had left on their way to drama club. you felt your eyes slightly widen as you made eye contact with hyunjin, who was leaning up against the wall, watching you as you walked to class.

m:ot. – ch. 001

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✉️ notes from nia

we're finally back!! im so excited to be working in this ^^ hopefully this time i can enjoy it also small side note in the first screenshot yn replies with "dm!"

taglist. open

@https-skzology

#≡📹- ꒰ m:ot ꒱ #stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids fluff #stray kids crack #stray kids x reader #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids minho #📁 stray kids: ot8

[dear-departed]

sorry for the two asks in a row, read your post on breakdowns with the brothers, wondered if you could do breakdowns with the side characters? tysm, love your writing!! <3333

Hello, of course! I had fun writing this, sorry it came so late, I had trouble thinking of something for Solomon

Also I hope you don't mind, but I wasn't comfy with including Luke, please, enjoy :)

Reader is gender neutral

Warnings: angst, brief thoughts of s/h, lots of crying, swearing, MC pulls their hair

Word count: 5.8k

Diavolo ♥

• Diavolo’s a tricky case, there are some days when he has a few quiet moments to himself that he just lets it all out, and sometimes he’ll just ignore his negative emotions until it gets too bad. He’s seen Lucifer have his emotional drunk moments, but given that they’re usually drunk together, he doesn’t know how to handle other people.

• It was just a regular “meeting” or really just hanging out at the Demon Lord’s castle. Over the past few weeks, things were just building up, but today felt especially bad. You were in one of the castle’s many rooms with Barbatos, Lucifer, and Diavolo.

• “So, how are those brothers treating you?” Diavolo smiled, sipping on a cup of piping hot tea in front of him, admittedly with a metric fuck-ton of sugar.

• “Same as always...” Lucifer rubbed his temple, “but MC’s always a big help with them.”

• “I’m glad.”

• Slowly, their words started to make less and less sense as you absentmindedly stared at the floor, their conversation turning into a mess of static in your mind.

• The room was cool to the point of getting goosebumps, yet small beads of sweat gathered near your hairline.

• “Isn’t that right, MC?” You were snapped out of your thoughts by Lucifer saying your name. You directed your gaze back up to the three men, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?”

• “I asked if I was right.” He looked into your eyes, his gaze making you squirm in your seat. On normal days, this would’ve been fine, but everything felt too uncomfortable and awful and just... ew.

• “I-I’m sorry, I meant the thing before that.” The skin on your cheeks felt like they were on fire, your voice cracking slightly as your mouth became devoid of any moisture.

• “Oh, yes. I said you were working hard on your studies.”

• “Oh-” you cleared your throat, hastily taking a sip of your tea in hopes to wet your tongue enough to comfortably speak, and maybe to wash down the lump in your throat. “Yes, I have been working hard.”

• You stood up “If you don’t mind, could you give me directions to the restroom?”

• “Would you like Barbatos to lead you?” Lord Diavolo tilted his head, his crimson hair shining beneath the slightly yellowed lighting of the large room.

• “No, thank you.”

• “Understood.” Barbatos pointed out the door. “Out that door, to the right, 4th door on the left.” He instructed.

• “Thank you.” You were quick to skitter off, mumbling the directions he gave to you over and over until you found the bathroom.

• You quickly shut the door, taking a double take over the bathroom that never ceased to surprise you. The mirror alone was probably worth more than a collage tuition, with an intricately carved mahogany frame, a few of the details popping out because of the gold leaf speckling different areas.

• You slid down against the wall, taking a few rough gulps of air as you tried to steady yourself. The clothes on your back felt like they stuck to your body too much, you were far too aware of your tongue, how it didn’t feel like it was resting in the right place.

• The tears began to pour, choked sobs coming from your cinched throat as you hung your head. You let out a brief cough as you choked on your tears, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

• You failed to notice the footsteps coming from down the hall over your own whimpers and squeaky breaths.

• Until the doorknob turned.

• You staggered for the door, your knees smacking against the cold tile as your fingertips brushed against the lock on the door. You were too slow, Lord Diavolo opened the door, humming a soft tune.

• “Oh, my goodness! MC I’m so sorry I forgot you were in h...” He looked down at you, at how disheveled you looked, little whisps of hair sticking to the tears coating your face, your chest heaving with uneven breaths.

• “What happened?! Are you okay?!” he dropped to his knees beside you, his brows knitting together with concern. “Do you want me to get Barbatos? I’ll get Barbatos-”

• “Wait!” You croaked out, reaching for his arm, “please... I’m not- I don’t- I’m... I don’t want anyone else to see me like this, please, Lord Diavolo...”

• He was hesitant to touch you at first. “What do you want me to do?” His hand hovered over yours for a moment before landing on the back of your hair that was firmly planted on his arm.

• “I don’t know.” You sobbed, sucking in a breath. “I don’t know anything; I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

• He moved closer to your trembling form, enveloping you in a hug, which might’ve pressed you up against his man tiddies, but it’s not like that hurt anything.

• “Is it the Devildom? Would you like to go home?” He asked, his heart twinging with a distant sadness.

• “N-no... I just get like this sometimes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You said, your voice nothing but a rough whisper against his clothes.

• “Come, I’ll tell Barbatos and Lucifer not to disturb us.” He scooped one of his arms on the backs of your knees, using his other to coax one of your arms over his shoulder, cool to the touch against your feverish skin.

• You tried to compose yourself as he lifted you off the ground with ease, looking down at you, deep in thought. “Would you like to sit out in the garden with me? Perhaps to get some fresh air? Or you may rest on my bed, if you prefer to bundle up and take a nap or something of the sort.

• The two of you both decide to go to the garden together. He set you down on a beautifully crafted granite bench, drawing his D.D.D from his pocket. “As I said, I will inform all of the staff, along with Lucifer and Barbatos, to leave us be. Does that sound alright with you?”

• You shook out your sweaty hands, trying to cool your face in the same stroke. The outside air was certainly cooler than inside, with the moon and stars casting a gentle silverish-blue light upon Diavolo’s bright red hair. “Yes.. Thank you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see me like that and it’s nothing wrong with the Devildom, I love it here; it’s just that sometimes everything just feels like too much and some people say I overreact because it seems like whenever I have a breakdown it’s over the small stuff. B-but it’s not because of small stuff, it’s just the small stuff keeps building up until a little thing sends me into a frenzy and-” Your lungs begged for air as you spoke, until you had no more to give.

• Diavolo waited for a few seconds, waiting for anything else you had to say. “I understand. Well, I can’t say I understand you completely, people are very different from one another, but I can say I see where you’re coming from. And if you were to ask me, MC.” He took your shaking hands in one of his, “I, personally, don’t think you overreact at all. You’ve been so calm and accommodating to everything here in the Devildom, a feat which not many humans can achieve. I don’t think you fully understand how big of a deal that is.”

• He plucked a rose from a nearby bush, the underside of the blooming petals crafted from shadow, and the center of the flower was filled with bright neon colors that glowed in the eternal night of the devildom.

• “And because of that, MC, I’m proud of what you’ve become.” He stripped the thorns from the rose with the nail on his thumb, gently tucking the stem behind your ear.

Barbatos ♥

• This bitch is a robot.

• Barbatos does not have breakdowns.

• And if he did? You wouldn’t be able to tell.

• He doesn’t know how to take a goddamn break. If he feels stressed, he gets restless, and if he gets restless, he works.

• And if there’s nothing to do, because he again, never takes a break and already has everything done? He bakes.

• He is predictable in a sense that he’s good at everything, and he’s so consistant that you could mistake him for a machine

• He is terrifying, he is the most subtle and beautiful chaos you’ve ever seen.

• He is Barbatos.

• And that’s how you came to this moment.

• Another sleepover that Lord Diavolo had invited you, and all of the brothers to.

• You love the brothers, you really do. They’re good company, and they’re entertaining. But holy fuck are they clingy, and loud, and do they always have to be at war with one another?

• Belphie was laying his head on your thighs, Asmo practically draping himself over the lower half of your legs like some sort of cat. Satan was laying his head on your stomach, his legs kicked up over each other as he read a book.

• How he could read, much less see, with how dark the room was? You had no idea. Demon fuckery, probably.

• Leviathan didn’t touch you with any of his regular limbs, rather, he was in his demon form, with the tip of his tail wrapped around your ankle as he laid a little bit away from you, playing a video game on his phone.

• Beel, thankfully, was just holding your hair while he laid on the floor, his large hand resting heavily against yours.

• And then... and then there was Mammon. He was clinging to your arm; you were sure he’d wrap his legs around your waist and stick there the entire night if Satan wasn’t in the way.

• There was no Lucifer to save you, either, he was in another room, separated from both you and the brothers, which was totally unfair.

• And Diavolo, obviously, was in his own room.

• You began to wriggle in their grasp, “hey, I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back, if I’m not back soon then just go to bed without me.”

• Mammon let out a quiet whine, rubbing his face against your shoulder, obviously half asleep.

• Satan sat up, swift to smack him on the back of the head with his book. “Get up.”

• Mammon quickly unstuck himself from you, rubbing the back of his head, rolling over and curling up once more.

• Everyone else evacuated off you, leaving you to stand up and quickly scramble off. The urge to get away was strong, yet the feelings weren’t there, at least not yet. Your head felt empty; devoid of all coherent thought, as silent as the cold halls of the castle, all of the lights off.

• Numb

• You wandered until you stepped into what must’ve been the main kitchen. It had to be some sort of commercial kitchen, not the type you would see in a house, but rather a work place. The tile was cool beneath your feet, your eyes slowly adjusting to the unforgiving dark.

• Everything was stainless steel aside from the dishes you could see, all different shades of red, with edges of night and gold.

• Were this the house of lamentation, you might have sat on the counter, but given that you were a guest, you opted on seating yourself on the floor.

• You stared at the grout beneath the tiles, the edges of your vision mushing together the longer your gaze stayed still, the edges of cupboards swirling with the air around you.

• It felt like hours before your eyes begin to sting from being open so long, making your eyes water. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks, slipping onto your shirt and dampening the fabric, all while you couldn’t be bothered to care, or rather, you wanted to ignore it. Pretend you were just tired, or you weren’t really sad.

• Were you sad, though? It was difficult to pinpoint exactly how you felt. Sad, angry, anxious? Just upset.

• Without taking your eyes off that spot, you slowly hugged your knees to your chest, your face contorting; lips quivering, and nose scrunching up slightly.

• Before you knew it, you were nothing but a puddle of quiet sobs, shaking like a leaf and sniffling. Your tears dripped down onto the corners of your mouth, covering your lips with salt.

• “I had a feeling somebody was in here.” You heard from behind you.

• Your throat grew tight, your heart pounding in your chest.

• Barbatos.

• Half of you wanted to turn around, but the other half wanted to pretend that it was just your mind playing tricks on you, that you didn’t actually hear somebody, but deep down, you knew you’d been caught.

• Slowly, you turned, aggressively swiping at your face to get rid of the tears. There he was, towering over you, inspecting a white tea cup, decorated with cold leaf. He wiped away a smudge with a towel in hand. He turned his gaze down to you, setting the tea cup aside. “What has upset you, MC?”

• You were hesitant to answer him, after all, he was the least emotional person here, it felt weird to mention this to him.

• “I just... I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong.” You hiccupped, avoiding his sharp gaze. You made sure to keep his short and sweet, not wanting to hold up any of his time.

• Was he... still in his work clothes?

• Does he even own pajamas?

• “Ah, I understand. You feel as though you’re generally just upset, though you feel like you don’t deserve to feel upset because nothing necessarily happened that’s been out of the ordinary? Is that the case?”

• You opened your mouth to explain further, but... “yes, that’s... spot on, actually.”

• “Come, take my hand.” He held out one of his gloved hands, waiting for you to grab onto it.

• After a moment of consideration, you did so, allowing the demonic butler to pull you up off the floor, gently steadying you.

• With a snap of his fingers, a chair appeared, shrouded in a soft green glow as it warped into the room. He gestured to the seat of the chair, nodding his head formally. “Please, sit. I will prepare something to calm your nerves. In the meantime, please, MC, tell me how you are feeling.”

• In your gut, you knew he was aware exactly how you felt, he could probably just tell. That was already proven by how he pretty much read your thoughts aloud, but still, it feels different when you actually talk about it.

• “I mean... you kind of already said it. Nothing major has happened recently, but I just feel awful, I guess. I can’t tell if I’m annoyed or sad, but I feel like I’ve just been numb for a while and then all of a sudden, I just needed to... get away from everyone.”

• “Would you describe it as drowning?” Barbatos approached the stove, lighting the pilot light beneath one of the burners with a long match. He filled a kettle with water and placed it on the burner, then reached into a cupboard, pulling out a glass jar, filled with tea leaves, and a label you couldn’t quite make out through your watery eyes, and the fact that the kitchen was still dark, the only light available being the stove.

• “I would think so. Like when you’re holding your breath and you’re fine at first, and then you start to squirm, and the more you squirm, the more you need air.”

• He scooped a little bit of the tea into a strainer, clasping it shut and setting it inside the porcelain cup. “Is it also the case that you feel alright until you think about it?”

• “Yeah, kind of like when you feel bad, but you aren’t quiet crying, and then someone asks if you’re alright, and you realize that you’re not really alright. And really, you’re the furthest thing from feeling alright.” Slowly, your crying began to cease as you watched his dexterous hands, the pearly white of his gloves standing out against his dark outfit.

• He swiped his slender index finger across one of the countertops, rubbing it against his thumb with a thoughtful hum. He ducked down to beneath the sink, withdrawing a rag and some sort of cleaner. “Do you sometimes feel like those brothers treat you as something that comforts them, rather than someone who also needs comfort?” He asked as he sprayed the counter, wiping it down thoroughly with the rag. Part of you would bet that the counter was already clean.

• “Y... yes. That would be accurate. It’s like they argue over keeping me near them, instead of spending time with me, if that makes sense.” The more he pointed out ways you didn’t even know you felt, the more you felt like you understood how you felt.

• He put the rag and the cleaner back beneath the sink as the kettle began to whistle softly, billowing steam out from its neck. He checked his watch, eyeing it carefully for about 20 seconds before he finally poured the water in. Somehow, he managed to produce the perfect amount of water from the kettle.

• After about 7 minutes, he pulled the strainer out of the water, shaking it a little over the cup before discarding the soggy leaves inside.

• “Here, this should make you feel a little better.” He presented the cup in front of you.

• Were his eyes glowing?...

Simeon ♥

• Simeon definitely has his moments, but unlike a lot of the Obey Me boys, he has decent ways of coping, so it’s not often that he has a breakdown.

• Also, being the mom friend, he naturally has this 6th sense when people aren’t feeling their best, it’s programmed into his system.

• You had planned a study session at Purgatory Hall with him, given that he knows just about everything there is about well... everything, he’s smart, but never really brings it up.

• The walk from the House of Lamentation to Purgatory Hall wasn’t hard, only a few minutes, but it felt like the quaint little path led on, sprawling out further the longer you walked. You could feel the stones beneath your aching feet just a little more than normal, and the air nipped at your ankles; sinking its icy claws into your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

• After a short walk that dragged on for what felt like forever, you finally reached the door of Purgatory Hall, giving it a few weak knocks, adjusting the book bag that had begun to dig into your shoulder.

• Simeon was quick to answer, greeting you with his smile, sweet as honey. “Hello, MC. I’m so glad you could make it, come in.” He stepped to the side, nodding his head as you stepped through the doorway.

• He immediately had his suspicions, but decided to keep quiet for now. Despite his doubts, there was still a chance that maybe you just had to shake it off, or perhaps the walk was boring.

• “I was actually just making lunch, Solomon and Luke are both out running errands, so it’s just us. You’re free to join me in the kitchen if you’d like, we can study there for a bit. I’ll take your bag, it looks heavy.” He shut the door behind you, turning his gaze back to you.

• “I don’t wanna burden you, Simeon, it’s fine. Thank you for agreeing to help me out.” You suppressed a lengthy yawn, your eyes watering as you did so.

• “You aren’t a burden at all, MC! Really, you’re helping me just as much as I am you, I have trouble with some of the subjects as well.” He carefully pulled the bag off your shoulder, not giving you anymore room to argue.

• “...Thank you.” You said, dragging your feet as you followed him into the kitchen. He set your bag up against one of the counters.

• “Go on, take a seat,” he gently patted his hand against the counter.

• “Are you sure?”

• “Of course, Luke isn’t tall enough to reach some stuff on the top shelf, so he climbs the counter a lot. Sometimes I wonder if those of us who are shorter just don’t feel fear, because I’ve seen him hop down from heights far taller than him. Or you can sit on the floor, if you want, I just want you to feel at home.”

• You didn’t have the energy to act like sitting down somewhere didn’t sound nice, so you abided with his recommendation, hopping up onto the counter and scooting back until your back hit the cool wall behind you.

• “And how about I give you a little quiz?” Simeon worked over the stove, cooking what seemed to be bacon.

• “Mm, that sounds okay.” You leaned your head back, resting it against the wall as you listened to him shuffling around the kitchen, his footfalls soft beneath the tile flooring.

• “Alright, first question, what is the word for ‘curse’ in Latin?”

• You rifled through the words in your head, in a slight daze as your thoughts clouded together. “Uhh, imprecatio, I think. Yeah, that’s what it is.”

• “Correct! Good job. Next question, hmm... after the Devildom was formed, what covered its surface?”

• Sleep tugged angrily at your mind, gnawing away at your coherency. “A forest...”

• “Great! There’s an ancient elixir that needs three ingredients, powdered unicorn hoof, bittergrass root...” the rest of his words faded into the background as you felt your consciousness slip from your grasp.

• “...MC?” Simeon turned to look at you, slumped against the wall with your mouth open a little bit, as if you were about to answer before you fell asleep. “I knew it” He laughed to himself, shaking his head a little as he covered his mouth. “Poor thing, they look so exhausted.”

• The angel turned the stove burner off, carefully coaxing your legs around his waist and hoisting you up onto his hips, taking great care in having a secure grip on you.

• He hummed a gentle tune as he walked out of the kitchen, taking you down the hall to his bedroom. His melodic voice reached your asleep mind, lulling you further into dreamland.

• He fumbled with the door a little, eventually opting on just standing on one foot and opening it with the other.

• And with that, he set you down on his bed, tucked you in, and went back to the door. He took one final glance at you, tilting his head and letting out a quiet “awe... get some rest, you deserve it.” Before he finally shut the light off and closed the door.

• I would say you awoke to it being dark outside but... it’s the devildom. It's always dark.

• Instead, you awoke to the sweet smell of chocolate permeating the house. You slapped your hand out to feel for your phone on the bedside table, only to find that it wasn’t there, being met with nothing, not even the lamp that you kept. Just the cool surface of a wooden bedside table.

• Come to think of it, this didn’t smell like your room, either. Rather, it smelled of flowers, vanilla, and new books.

• Where?... What?...

• It took you a moment to realize that you weren’t in your room, in fact, it took you a moment to remember exactly what’d happened before you’d fallen asleep.

• Simeon cracked the door a little bit, peeking inside. “Oh, you’re awake! Good morning!” he opened the door all the way, two mugs in hand.

• “What... what time is it?” You groaned, slowly sitting up, your back aching.

• “I guess I shouldn’t have said morning.” He went to the other side of the bed, turning on the lamp on that table. “It’s more like nine o’clock.”

• “Nine o’clock?... but... I barely even studied...” guilt began to well in your stomach, regret prominent in your mind. “I just... I just... fell asleep?” Your head spun as you talked, your voice cracking.

• Oh dear god... er, huh, Simeon’s dad, was your mouth dry, and did it taste awful.

• “Yes, you did fall asleep. And I’m glad you did.” Simeon sat on the edge of the bed, holding one of the mugs of bubbly hot coco out to you.

• The edges of your vision swirled and clouded with tears as your lip quivered, the confusion of just waking up and not being able to recall anything striking you like a fast ball. “But... Simeon, that means I wasted your time.” You began to sob, the pressure of being put on the same level as the demon brothers finally catching up to you, all in this one dazed moment in Simeon’s bedroom. “A-and how am I going to pass if I don’t study every day?! I only have so much time and if I’m wasting it by being lazy and falling asleep, I don’t deserve any of this, I don’t deserve to be praised or...” you sniffled, letting out a heavy cough.

• “Hey, MC.” He set the cups down on the bedside table, scooting closer to you. He placed a delicate hand on your lap. “It’s okay that you fell asleep. If you’re well rested, that means you can absorb information.” His thumb gently rubbed along your thigh in a comforting manner. “No grade is above your wellbeing. If it’s too much, I’m sure there are adjustments that can be made. Do you understand how big of a deal it is that you’ve learned this much?”

• You stared into his angelic turquoise eyes, flecked with gold. Somehow, staring into those eyes brought you a little peace. With one look at you, it felt like he understood everything you were feeling, and he had the words to match exactly that.

• “Solomon, Luke and I, the demons at RAD; we’ve all had thousands of years to study, hundreds of years to take in the same information that you’ve only had about a year and a half to learn, do you understand how positively impressive that is? Everybody struggles sometimes, MC, and everybody is fallible no matter what anybody says, you’re allowed to make mistakes. And it’s alright to not know something.”

• You began to tremble the more he spoke, his words striking all the right chords in your heart. “I just... I don’t know how to take all of this in, I still have all of my knowledge about the history of the human world, and now having to relearn world history, but for the Devildom... it just feels so weird, and I’m really, really, trying. But it... it... it...” You stammered a few more times, trying to regain your bearings. “It feels like everything's melting together and this feels like I can’t possibly learn it all in time.”

• “Come here, my lamb.” He opened his arms to you, an empathetic smile gracing his features.

• You crawled toward him, flinging your arms around him tightly as you cried into his shoulder.

• He was warm, and smelled exactly like the room you were in. Slowly, he began to pat and rub your back, speaking softly into your ear. “There you go, just let it all out, it’s okay to cry. I know times get tough, and it’s alright to admit that. You’ll be alright, it’ll all work out. I believe in you.”

• When Simeon felt your shaking and sobbing slowly die down, he leaned back, looking into your eyes. “Now, would you like some hot coco? Solomon and Luke are home.”

• “Yes...” You sniveled, wiping at your eyes and mouth “Please...”

• He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the top of your head. “Alright, then.”

Solomon ♥

• Solomon hasn’t had a breakdown in a while. He’s, how do you say it? Desensitized to so much shit.

• But nevertheless, he’s human, he gets it a little more than his demonic and angelic peers.

• Currently, the two of you were in potions class, in the middle of a mini-test.

• The task was simple to the untrained eye, just mix two liquids, drink it, and allow the instructor to see how your body and voice changed.

• He had already gone, he was assigned to turn into an older woman with brown hair, which he’d done with ease, and was now already back in his typical form.

• The instructor approached you, watching as your hands frantically scrambled around your lab station, your heart pounding, your mind succumbing to your anxiety.

• Solomon leaned on his knuckles, idly tracing the intricate swirly grain of the lab station he was at, humming softly to himself as he occasionally looked up to glance at you.

• You knocked over a vial.

• The sorcerer flicked his index and middle fingers up, eyeing the vial intensely as it quickly levitated itself up and back onto its stand.

• “Great job catching yourself, MC.” The instructor nodded, gesturing for you to continue.

• You gave Solomon a weak smile, hesitantly pouring in one of the liquids in a different tube, slowly drizzling another in.

• You peered into the small cast iron cauldron on your lab station, smiling in relief as different reds and purples swirled around on the surface, dancing with one another as they mixed.

• It was only when yellow and green began to bubble up to the top that you got concerned... it wasn’t supposed to bubble, and those were the opposite colors you were aiming for.

• It began to bubble over, quickly expanding and turning into a thick foam, covering the desk in a sticky, marshmallow-like substance.

• That was the final straw for you already anxiety-ridden self. You stood up without another word and darted for the door, nearly tripping over a stool. The door fluttered shut in your wake, only leaving the lingering smell of you for Solomon to cling to.

• You took a few different turns, before ducking down against the wall and curling your knees to your chest. Humiliated sobs racked your body, making you shake and shiver as you struggled to breathe.

• “Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot... idi..ot...” You choked out, tangling your hands into your hair and giving it a harsh tug in a desperate attempt to keep yourself in the moment.

• You brought your hand away from your face, forming it into a fist, pondering how it would feel if it were to connect with your head as hard as you could. Would it knock the back of your skull into the wall? Would you bleed?

• Before you made the choice, you heard swift footsteps making their way down the hall. You held your breath, but the longer they continued, and the closer they got, the more your head began to spin.

• “MC?...” Solomon stepped into your slowly fading view, your gaze feeling hazy as you stared at him, sucking in a quiet breath.

• Static and stars tangoed at the edges of your mind, dizziness gripping your thoughts. “Solomon?... what... what are you doing?”

• It took you a moment to realize in your delirious state, but Solomon had already taken a spot next to you, taking a similar position you were in.

• He said nothing.

• You stared at him, still trembling and sobbing, too wrapped up in your own sorrow to even consider composing yourself.

• He pulled out a spray bottle and misted you in the face.

• You couldn’t help but notice how cold the liquid was, it sent a shiver right up your spine, confusing you just briefly enough to stop crying.

• “What did?... What?... why?... what was that?”

• “Don’t worry, it was just water.” He slowly lowered the bottle.

• “W-what was that for?”

• “Just to snap you out of it. Come here.” He spread his arms, nodding once.

• Did this man really just shock you out of a breakdown?

• Holy shit he did. He just essentially did the same thing as when people throw sliced cheese at crying babies to confuse them.

• And by God did it work.

• “Come on, don’t be shy. We aren’t strangers, I know you need a hug right now.” He flicked his fingers a little, raising his eyebrows slightly.

• You scooted a little closer, giving into what would’ve been shame and just melting into his arms. He snaked his arms up your back, lacing one hand through the hair on the back of your head and pressing your face into his shoulder. “There, there. Everything will be okay, everyone has their bad days, yadda yadda, and eventually we’ll get over them. I cry sometimes too.”

• Warm, salty, tears began to flow from your eyes again, soaking into the thick fabric of his uniform. Your breath hitched through the sobbing, your lungs tightening up.

• “That’s it, cry it out. Don’t be so discouraged, MC. There are spells that I don’t know, and I’ve been studying for thousands of years, you’ve only been studying for a year. All these demons here have been alive for who knows how long, and you still end up getting better grades than a lot of them. That’s crazy, right? Just think about it.”

• The low humming of his voice vibrated in his chest, his breathing permeating your marrow and slowly soothing your nerves. “Y-yeah... I just... it was just so embarrassing...”

• “I had to be rescued a few times because I accidentally trapped myself trying to do new spells. And I’ve had my fair share of mess-ups. Mistakes are part of the learning process, you aren’t meant to get it right the first time, that’s what it takes to really absorb information. And you know? I’m really proud of you. I’m proud of you for messing up. That wasn’t really a mess-up, it was just a different spell you performed at the wrong time.”

• He placed one hand on either side of your head, lifting your face from his chest, his slender fingers brushing strands of your hair out of your face. “You’re one of the most impressive and strongest humans I know, and I know a lot of humans. Your magic; the power you hold is unlike any other, and any spell you perform is bound to hold amazing results, intended or not.”

• “Thank you, Solomon... It means a lot, those words. And from someone as powerful as you, and as strong as you... it’s like you take everything in stride, you always act like everything’s meant to happen.” You stared into his eyes, the portals to his soul.

• “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. If I’m being entirely honest with you, I was scared with becoming emotionally close with you.” A sad smile graced his features. “Truth be told, I stopped befriending other humans because they always die, that’s why all of my friends are demons and angels. I was sick of losing people. And then you came along, and you changed the way I thought.”

• He slid his hands from your cheeks to your shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze.

• “I can’t possibly thank you enough.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #shall we date obey me #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me barbie #obey me diavolo

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 33: Amor

Hello, my dears! Sorry for the long lapse in posting, but I’m back with a mega pint of a chapter (yes, I said it. Sue me) that I hope will make up for the lull. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 21,500+

Summary: After a perilous event, you and Javi find solace in the respite of being together amongst a surprising support system. But when it's time to confront truths, will you both be able to protect each other and stay grounded in the love that tethers you together?

Warnings: Javier Peña being the ultimate BAE. Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of oral (m+f receiving) and unprotected sex. Mentions of hurt/comfort, emotional trauma, toxic coping mechanisms, and suppressed feelings. Descriptions of raunchy behavior, light dom/sub play, cum play, size kink, praise kink, and dirty talk. Allusions to triggering events, foreboding threats, and psychological trauma. Some Protective!Javi, Dom! Javi, Sub!Javi, Sub!Reader, Wrathful!Javi. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter -  Chapter 32: Daze

Chapter 33: Amor

When you next wake, you can tell it's around the time that lavender haze of twilight starts to pale into early dawn. You lie there for a bit and just enjoy the tranquility, still enveloped by the warmth of being in the small bed together while the fresh air of early morning filters in through the windows. His scent – masculine yet softened by fragrant soap – chastens the small tremor of anxiety that bubbled up as your mind recalled everything that had happened the day before. You want to curl into him and forget it, but know you can't get caught in bed together lest you want to get a scolding from your grandmother, so you decide you have to part with the solace of being snuggled up with him.

Javi is sleeping so soundly that you're able to easily shimmy out from under his hold and tuck the covers back around his shoulders without stirring him. He looks so serene, and it makes something tickle in the back of your breastbone – gazing down at him like this. It's hard to believe that at one point, he'd just been el guapo descarado to you. And now? He's the man you love and want to cherish, having become the most important person in your life, whom you feel the safest with. It's a dizzying realization – to feel like this, to be in love so completely, and to not be afraid of it.

I never want to be without him.

The fawning thought has you feeling a fizzling glee bubble up in you, and before you let it carry you away on some enamored flight of fancy, you sneak out of the bedroom and tiptoe back into the one right across the hall. You quickly change into a comfy sweatshirt and matching pair of baggy joggers, go to the restroom, wash your face and brush your teeth, then go busy yourself in the kitchen. By the time your grandmother enters a few minutes later, you've peeled and cut a nice assortment of fruits that sit in a bowl on the counter, and are currently chopping the onions, bell peppers and tomatoes for the huevos pericos you decided to make.

"You're up early!" she jovially marvels and ambles over to affectionately hug you, kissing you on the cheek before she begins to muse, "Go sit—"

"I want to cook. Can you supervise? I'm going to try and make your pandebonos," you gently insist and declare, smiling reassuringly at her.

She nods, impressed, and goes to put out all the ingredients you'll need for the temperamental treats. "I'll start the coffee," she announces as she grabs the kettle pieces.

"Can you show me how to prep the cafetera?" you request as you place the chopped ingredients aside. "I can never get it right. Coffee comes out tasting burnt or with grounds in it," you sorely grumble as you stand next to her at the counter.

She seems pleasantly surprised by your interest. After all, every time before she'd tried to show you, you'd dismissed that she made the coffee best anyway. Impish, she lilts, "Seems someone has inspired your urges for domesticity."

Snickering, you surprise her yet again by remarking simply, "Seems he has."

She smiles beamingly and contains her impulse to barrage you with questions in order to instead show you the expert way to brew the perfect coffee using the old-school stove kettle. The neighborhood rooster is crowing distantly while she stands next to you at the sink and shows you how to measure the amount of water to pour into the base. "See the stopper here? It shouldn't go beyond this point." She then grabs the can of coffee and measures out the grounds before displaying the way to scoop and put the coffee into the metal basket, emphasizing that you should not press down on it. "—You just need to brush off the excess with the sweep of your finger, and then you can place it in," she instructs as she shows you, then hands the base and top for you to screw on and place on the stove. "Then, you just listen for it to brew, and mind keeping it on the burner for too long. You then want to set it aside to cool."

Once you've followed all the steps and have the coffee kettle cooling on the back of the stove, she sits at the table and watches you shred the cheese for the pandebonos, instructing you on how to sift it, then the right mixture of the harinas to use; the blend of salt and sugar needed; the ground cheese and egg you need to add in before you whisk; how much milk you should include and the butter needed before mixing it all up into the dough you'll need to let rest. Once it's set aside, you butter the pan for the juevos pericos and place the chopped veggies in before making a cup of coffee for your abuela, who is watching you intently now.

You sense it. It's been long enough, and you are rescind to it, so you place the cup in front of her with the sugar bowl and a spoon for her before returning to the stove.

"What happened yesterday…that was no mistake. Those men grabbed you with care, yes, but it was obvious they hadn't mistaken you for someone else. What was all of that about?"

It takes you a moment to collect your thoughts, so you use that time to tend to the eggs in the pan. "I'm not entirely sure—"

"Don't lie to me."

You turn to glance at her, and see she's sternly eyeing you. She hasn't even touched her coffee, and her eyes are flaring with worry.

"'Buela…it's best I don't tell you. Everything is sorted and that will never happen again—" you begin to mollify.

"What does Javier really do," she queries suddenly, eyes narrowing sharply on you when you press your lips together and turn away. "Lindita, I had the fright of my life yesterday. As soon as I got home, I ran to find his number, and within hours he was here. He went off with that officer, and within no time, he was bringing you home," she narrates firmly, and you switch the stove off and set the pan aside to turn and face her. "That is not something just anyone at an embassy can do. What does he really do?"

Sighing, you idly grab a dishtowel and start wringing it in your hands, trying to quell the nervous energy as you calmly parcel out, "Javier works for the DEA. When we met, he was a field agent. He and his partner helped take down the Medellín cartel. Since then, he was promoted to be the DEA country attaché. He runs the DEA here in Colombia, and for obvious reasons, I wanted to keep all of that private."

While you told her, your grandmother's expression shuttered in, becoming stoic as she absorbed the details and formulated conclusions of her own.

"I thank God for him. But, if you're in any danger, because of what he does," she begins to ruminate out loud, and when you tense, she pauses, clarifying, "If you both are in danger, I don't think I could bare it. Is this really something you've considered? That you've really thought about? The risk to him and to you?"

You are resolutely clear as the answer springs up in you. "Yes. We've talked about this – what it means for each of us, and the way we would need to go about things. Since we first started seeing each other, it's always been a concern and something Javi and I have been mindful to protect against. Yesterday was a fluke – something completely random and I was in no way in true danger. I don't want you to worry," you state with sincerity as you go to sit with her at the kitchen table. You take her hand and squeeze when she frowns apprehensively. "I promise, we're not in danger. I trust Javi with my life. All he's ever done is protect me, and gone out of his way to make sure I'm safe. I love him, and…he loves me. We'll take care of each other, and I'll be much more careful. So please, don't worry about us."

She lets out a shaky sigh before patting her other hand over yours – effectively clasping it in her warm, strong hold. "Well then…can I look forward to helping plan another wedding soon?" she chimes eagerly, and you scoff and hang your head, shaking it amusedly. "I'm not getting any younger, lindita!"

Before you can answer, you look over your shoulder towards the entry of the kitchen when you hear a familiar sound – the rattle of the band of Javi's watch as he absently shakes it on his wrist to settle it comfortably in place after he's clasped it on. Just then, he rounds the corner and enters from the hall. He's fully dressed, wearing a pair of his perfect dark blue jeans, a well-worn pair of leather boots, and a tucked in, off-white-colored, short-sleeved snap-buttoned shirt with breast pockets. His hair is brushed, face clean-shaven – save for his handsomely trimmed moustache, and he looks sheepish as he comes in and sees you both looking over at him, as if you'd both conjured him and were pleased with the results.

"Uh…buenos días," he remarks innocently, and you squint your eyes at him, not believing his 'oh, I just waltzed in unaware of what you're talking about' airs, but say nothing as you stand and gesture for him to sit down. "Mornin', ma'am," he leans over and kisses your grandmother on the cheek before sitting in the chair you've vacated, smiling when you place a cup of coffee in front of him and peck him on the lips chastely. His eyes get a little molten when he recognizes the sweatshirt you're wearing as the same one you'd had on when he'd stormed into your place and fucked you into oblivion and back not so long ago. Affectionately looping his arm around your waist to give your hip a squeeze, he rumbles, "You should've woken me to help with breakfast—"

"Oh, quit it with the boy scout routine, suavón," you snicker at him and cheekily caress his forearm before shying out of his embrace. "I'll prep the dough once I finish getting ready, 'Buela," is your musing as you serve the eggs onto two plates and place them at the table for them, offering the cutlery and napkin to each before snickering, "Eat, and behave while I'm gone."

"Hah, sure, we will. Isn't that right, mijo?" your grandmother chuckles conspiratorially over at Javi, who shoots you a smug smirk.

"Ugh, you two are incorrigible…" you grumble humorously and lope out of the kitchen.

Javi snorts and looks over at your grandmother once he's sure he's heard you shut the bathroom door at the end of the hall. "All right, bust out that photo album for me?" he petitions and bounces his brows charmingly.

Gleefully, your grandmother hops up and goes to retrieve it. While she's gone, he takes a long sip of the coffee, smiling at how great it tastes, going down smoother knowing that you brewed it.

Yep, he'd been listening. When he'd woken up thanks to the crow of the rooster in the back neighbor's yard, Javi had jerked up in bed, looking around the room and trying to get his bearings before awareness set in. At not finding you in bed with him, he'd gotten up and silently opened the door to the bedroom in order to peek out and see if you'd gone to sleep in the other room. Hearing your voices, he'd tiptoed down and stayed tucked against the hallway's wall, listening to you be walked through how to prep the kettle. Smiling, Javier had wandered back to the room, grabbed his things, and gone to take a quick shower. After he'd finished dressing and went to get his boots and belt on once he'd stored his things in the duffle, he'd stealthily returned to the eavesdropping stop in the hall, expecting to hear you both pleasantly chatting.

He instead heard your grandmother pressing you for answers. Worriedly, he expected you to shut her down and possibly end up in a reticent standoff with her. So, when you'd just sincerely answered her and made it clear how you feel, Javi had felt punch-drunk. So much so, he vacantly clasped his watch on and realized his mistake the moment he'd shaken his wrist to settle it into place. He'd had no choice but to lope in and feign like he'd not been eavesdropping.

Having heard what you'd said had left him feeling charged and worthy. It was a dazzling feeling to hear you speak so matter-of-factly to someone else about what you feel for each other. Made it feel like something precious that he was proud to flaunt, and hearing you not immediately shut down your grandmother after her wily remark had cemented his hopes – that 'not being the marrying kind' was a status in flux for you both now.

As you shower, the thought of that wily question makes you tingle a little. You need to take it one step at a time. Things are still tumultuous. You literally got kidnapped yesterday. Thinking about running down the aisle? Really? Javi wants to get a place with you. Be content with that for now and stop thinking irrationally.

With that scolding, you dry off, get dressed, and lope down to return to the kitchen, expecting to find the two of them finishing their coffees.

You instead find Javi perusing your abuela's photo album while she's at the stove, prepping the baking tray and preheating the oven.

"Why?!" you admonish, glowering huffily at the two of them. "I literally told you two to behave, and here's this one looking at my embarrassing pictures and you at the stove?!"

"I'm only prepping! I haven't even touched the dough," she defends, adding comically, "He asked me to get the album!"

Javi gives you both a wide-eyed gape, feeling thrown to the wolves. He sits back in the chair and gives you a puppy-eyed once over, admiring your flirty purple tunic dress with a keyhole cutout at the bust and a gold-print embroidered along the bottom hem and elbow-length sleeves. When you narrow your eyes at him, he just shrugs. "I regret nothing."

You snicker and shake your head, relenting, "Fine, malvadito. Go ahead and get a gander. I'll remember this when I have a chance to pester your father for photo albums!"

The three of you settle into a jovial banter as your grandmother shows you how to roll the dough into little bundles and place them on the parchment paper-lined baking tray. Once said tray is slid into the oven, she excuses herself to go get freshened up for the day, remarking, "Don't be surprised if that crew from yesterday come over later!" as she hurries out of the kitchen, intent to give you two some privacy.

"Told you," you chortle to him after you've loped back over to sit at the table with him after you washed your hands and dried them.

Javi snickers and tows you over to him before you get to the vacant chair. He hugs you, resting his forehead to just below your sternum, and inhales your perfumed scent. "You haven't eaten. Sit and relax," he murmurs before guiding you onto his lap.

You smile and loop your arms around his neck, leaning into him. "You just want to keep looking at the photo album, don't yah," you mumble against his neck.

He chuckles and nods, kissing your temple before nuzzling into your hair. You pivot to get comfy on his lap and begin to eat the food that's left on his plate. Relaxed, you manage to keep an eye on the oven as he flips through pages of the album, admiring the black and white portraits, sepia-toned snapshots, and yellowed prints of relatives from far back until he flips to the photos of a woman who looks so much like you, yet different. She's gorgeous, seeming to glow with a vibrancy and convivial aura that radiate through her lovely smile. When he glances at you, he sees you looking fondly at the photo of your mother, expression softening as you think back at how she looked in your dream that time.

When Javi flips onto the page with your parents' wedding photo, he takes time to catalogue it. Your parents are posing as tradition would call for: Stoic, albeit embracing and looking young and hopeful. She looks ethereal in her demure wedding gown and lace veil while your father is dressed sharp, shoes polished and hair brushed back. You hum and flip the page over for him, grumbling, "Might as well get to the cringe-worthy photos and get it over with."

The album at this point is cluttered with your baby pictures, and Javi delights in seeing you look like a cherubic infant, a bright-smiling toddler, and then a sprite-eyed hellion. When he'd last gotten a peek at the album, your grandmother had flipped it to your school photo section, which he turns onto now and grins. "How wicked were you in this photo," he chuckles, snickering when you roll your eyes. "Be honest, preciosa."

"I was pretty bad, yes," you chime sardonically, looking down at your younger self with the blunt bangs and long pigtails, wearing the green plaid jumper and yellow puffy-sleeved blouse. "I was annoyed that day. It was my first semester in the school in Virginia, and my mother made me wear this stupid jumper for the school photo. I walked out of it in a sulk and some boys ran up to tease me over my clothes, and one of them pulled on my pigtail, and I ran after him and started beating him up."

Javi laughs out, picturing the little girl in the photo going ballistic on a kid in a school hallway. He has to bury his face in the back of your shoulder to keep from guffawing when you scrunch up your face in disdain at his reaction. "Keep laughing, jodón. I cannot wait to get my hands on your baby pictures," you declare and wiggle daringly in his lap, forcing him to encircle an arm around your waist to pin you into place.

"Yeah, yeah, bravita. Mine are nowhere near as cute as yours," he taunts as he flips onto the next page and sees a picture of you holding your baby cousin in your arms. He smiles at how excitedly grinning you are in the photo cuddling the baby close to your chest.

You'd told him once about the brother that you almost had. How excited you'd been as a little girl, and how confused you'd been when your father had packed up the blue baby things and donated them.

"Oh! Let me check the oven," you suddenly pipe and climb off his lap, but not before wiggling your backside against his crotch one more time.

He gives you a surly grunt and provocative look as you innocently saunter to the stove and open the oven, inspecting the golden brown, puffed up breads. Pleased, you get the mittens and retrieve the tray, setting it onto the stovetop and shutting the oven closed and off. By then, your grandmother has sauntered back in, dressed in a pleated long skirt and a nice blouse and cardigan set.

"Ah, they came out lovely! Good job, mija," she praises as she peeks at the tray.

"Gotta see if they taste as good as yours first," you remark as you grab the kettle and pour yourself a cup.

Once they're cool enough, you each have one, and at Javi humming with gusto and your grandmother chewing with her eyes smiling approvingly? You bite into yours and are content. Soon enough, Javi's had three more with another cup of coffee as you chat about the upcoming wedding.

Frowning, you lament, "Oh, we didn't get to shop for dresses!"

"Well, maybe we could go today—"

A loud knocking coming from the front door interrupts the conversation, and you and your grandmother exchange duo looks of reluctance when your aunt calls through the door, "Hello! We brought food, comadre!"

Pursing your lips comically, you follow your grandmother out to answer the door while Javi sneaks another pandebono and munches on it before going to join you.

As promised, your aunt, cousin and Miguel are at the door with all sorts of goodies, and after everyone exchanges greetings, mother and daughter set up shop in the kitchen to start making lunch. Javi's eyes are twinkling at the prospect of being spoiled silly today with all the great food, and claps Miguel on the back good-naturedly when he covertly shows him a peek at the bottle of whiskey he's carrying along with the six-pack of beers.

"—My parents might be stopping by to say hello too," he declares over all the chatter in the kitchen, and your grandmother decides to send you to her pantry for supplies while the stove is taken up for empanada making.

By the time they're coming out of the frying pan, the impromptu gathering has increased with the arrival of your cousin's soon-to-be in-laws, so you go to set up some foldout chairs and open the back and front door to let the air circulate. Javi carries the chairs and helps you set them out, and quickly ends up being talked up by everyone. After all, they're eager to get to know him, being the first man you've ever brought around, and while your grandmother agreed to keep Javi's job a secret, you're concerned your aunt and cousin will broach the line of questioning they'd been forced to abandon the evening prior. Luckily, though, they seem too swept up in chatter about the wedding, so you are happy to sit and have girl talk while your grandmother hands a platter stacked with empanadas to the men, the rest of the cold beers in the fridge, and dutifully tells them to park in the living room.

Miguel, his father, and youngest brother sit around chatting with Javi about soccer teams, and after a while of that, they end up moving out to the front porch, where Miguel sets up a domino table so they can all play. You check on him by peering out the screen door, watching how he laughs at jokes and listens to Miguel explain the promotion he got. Once the proper early dinner is ready, you call them in and everyone squeezes in around the kitchen table, merrily conversing. Your aunt asks Javi where he's from, and once he answers, he elaborates that his people came from Tamaulipas and over generations moved north into Texas. They listen to him talk about Laredo, laugh at his jokes about being the last single cousin standing, and enjoy the PG-version of the story he and Miguel tell of how they'd first met.

"—Needless to say, I owed him an apology. I'm lucky you didn't slug me for it," Javi is quipping before taking a pull from his beer bottle.

"Honestly? I was so confused and off-guard, it didn't even occur to me," Miguel snickers and glowers when his brother face palms. "What?! You did not see this dude! He looked ready to toss me across the club—"

"Ay, what an exaggerator you are!" your cousin snipes sarcastically and nudges her shoulder into his side while Javi tucks his chin to hide his meek smirk when you affectionately squeeze his thigh under the table.

When he looks at you, he sees the smolder in your eyes, and has to stifle his reaction as your hand glides up to rub up along his inner thigh, achingly close to his crotch.

You can't help it. Watching him being so warm and charismatic? Jovial and open with your family? How he smiles and laughs with cool ease, treating them like he's known them for ages? It turns you on. This whole effortless, domestic respite with him has you yearning, thinking things you never have, and wanting him with a ridiculous intensity that has your thighs clenching, your pussy throbbing to be his.

Obviously, though, there is no opportunity for you to drag him away and just get ravished like you're desperate for, but it doesn't mean you can't shoot lustful glances his way and wickedly delight in how he blushes and tries to keep his features cool and unruffled.

After dinner, you help make some buñuelos and a fresh brew of coffee, enjoying how everyone hangs out in the living room and talk more about the wedding next Sunday. You tell your cousin that since you didn't get to do a bridal shower, you'd be booking a hotel room for all of you to use to get ready for the ceremony, and she beams, gushing about how she can have her beautician friends set up there for hair and makeup. Talk goes to how Miguel proposed, and you're grinning as she makes him get all flustered by detailing it unabashedly before dramatically flapping her hand to show off her engagement ring. You've seen it earlier in the week, but snicker when his mother beams about how nervous he'd been, and how he'd asked her and his three sisters to go with him to help pick out the perfect anillo.

Javi watches with bated breath as your cousin takes the ring off and hands it to you so you can see the engraving he'd had set within the band. Smiling when you see it's her and Miguel's first initials, you're about to hand it back when she cajoles you to try it on. He can't help size up how you and your cousin have similarly tapered fingers and dainty hands, so he's disappointed when you roll your eyes and shake your head. "—It's bad luck to have someone else put on your engagement ring!" you tell her before handing it back.

Before Javi can internally brood, Miguel signals for the men to leave you all to gab about the wedding by flashing the whiskey bottle in the paper bag in his hands and gesturing with a tip of his head to return to the domino table outside. You smirk, shooting Javi another heated look of desire, which causes him to mouth, 'Behave.'

Talk of the plans for next Saturday lead to detailing final arrangements needed, agreeing on who will be cooking what for the reception, transportation to and from, and tentative ideas for the honeymoon. Once your cousin has shown you the colors she'll use for the bridesmaids dresses, you gasp, remembering the glass terrariums in the back of your car. With car keys in hand, you go out to the porch and ask Javi if he can come with you to retrieve them from the hatchback.

"I'll get 'em. You stay inside," he rumbles and plucks the keys from your hand before stealing a kiss from your lips. "I can manage it, querida."

Pursing your lips at him, you relent and wink. "I'm sure you can, stud," you remark conversationally so the other men on the porch don't get clued in, but Javi's eyes flash with something incandescent at the way you enunciate 'stud' with an alluring bat of your lashes. He grunts and gives you a look that promises 'You're gonna get it, naughty girl,' before he strides off on his errand.

The minute you're back inside, though, all the women zero in on you. Uh oh…

"So, how serious are you two?"

"Pretty serious if he was willing to thrash Miguel for dancing with her, I'd say."

"Oh, he seems like such a gentleman! I'm sure they were just exaggerating. He is smitten with you, though, so can we expect to be right back here, planning another wedding soon?"

"I'd say before any of that, he'd have to meet your father and ask his permission," your aunt remarks and eyes your grandmother, who shakes her head sardonically at the whole exchange. "I remember distinctly how impressed my brother was when he was asked for his blessing. Your father was chivalrous and respectful when he asked, and I would assume he expects nothing less from your suitor, dear."

You try to respectfully not scoff at your aunt as you lean back in your chair and deflect, "I'm not on speaking terms with my father, as you well know, so there's no concern—"

"Ah! So you're saying you'd be the 'marrying kind' for him, eh?" your cousin cuts in, impishly.

Giving her a mocking glare, you snipe, "I didn't say that at all. I'm just saying that if I was, my father's approval is not a necessity—"

"But it's so nice for a man to ask his intended's father for permission. I know it's old fashioned, but I think it's very meaningful. Shows that he respects you and your family enough to ask for their blessing," Miguel's mother pipes up before sipping from her cup of coffee.

"Well, the only family I care about is right here. So, would he have your blessing?" you glance at your grandmother, cousin and aunt pointedly.

"Oh, that's not how that works—" your aunt begins to caveat.

"He has mine!" your cousin interrupts before drawling, "Ma, c'mon. Miguel asked you for permission. Are you saying that it's not the same because Papi wasn't around to be asked?"

"N-No, not at all. I'm just saying if your father was still with us, well, it would be meaningful for him to have given his blessing," she argues back.

"Well, regardless. He has my blessing, lindita. And for what you may feel about your father, I know that it would mean the world to him to have the opportunity to give his blessing and walk you down the aisle," your grandmother hits you with the sincere musing, smiling warmly as you wilt into your chair, expression stubbornly etched in a glower.

Before you can get bogged down with the sentiments cloying up in you for attention, Javi opens the screen door and fumbles in with the bags, mindful of the glass but also not wanting to kick at the door to stay open. You rush to aid him, taking the bags from him and thanking him before he glances over at the pregnant glances he's getting from the other women. Before it can get any more obvious, you shoo him back outside and take the bags over to the kitchen as you tell your cousin, "Come look at these! I think with the sea-glass and shells, we could make really pretty table arrangements."

As they all go to follow you, Javi sits back down at the domino table and takes a deep swallow of his whiskey before noticing Miguel eyeing him knowingly.

Yep. He'd heard all of that, and Miguel had watched him loiter on the stoop, listening, before he made his way up and feigned like he'd just walked back from the car. "She's tough, man. And I've never met her father, but my girl's told me stories. He's an intense dude," Miguel remarks, and his brother and father intriguingly ask him to elaborate. "I only mean he's a big shot. U.S. Navy guy. Used to be on that special team? The ones they send behind enemy lines—"

"Navy Seals," Javi offers with a nod, thanking the younger brother for topping his glass off.

"Yeah! Like, super tough, cutthroat and serious guy. Went on tons of missions, got all these awards for bravery and stuff. But I don't know, they just don't get along. He calls every major holiday, when he knows she's here with family, but she refuses to talk to him," Miguel explains to his father and brother.

Javi knows all this, and simply sips his drink. The mystique of your father is something he's rarely broached, mindful of what he does know to respect that it's something you will talk about if you feel like it. He knows what happened years ago – the devastating grief you went through when you lost your mother, how you blame your father for it, and ultimately, how resentful you are by how he picked up and seemingly moved on with his life not soon after. The entire aftermath of what happened with that bastard Roman only strained your relationship further, leaving it in tatters, of which you had no interest in repairing.

Still, it was a new wrinkle in things. If your family felt it was the right thing to go to the man for his permission and blessing in asking for your hand in marriage, Javi felt it was something he needed to do. And while you might have walls up against the man, he had no reason to hate or shun your father, and wondered how you would feel if he expressed interest in meeting him.

Before his train of thought could run away with him, the arrival of three other women who share a resemblance pulls him away, and Miguel jumps up to greet them, introducing Javi to his sisters in turn. At the new arrivals, you all go out to say hello and invite them in for dinner. They're each carrying big baskets filled with assortments of viandas and some fruits from their humble backyard fincas. Each hands over the bounties to your grandmother and aunt as gifts, and both beam at the offerings before eagerly parceling things out evenly between them.

"—Lindita, can you take these and store them in the shed out back? They'll keep perfect there in the coolness and shade," your abuela asks and directs, and you grab one of the bags, glance at Javi, and deliberately leave the other on the counter, hoping he'll take the hint.

He most definitely does, and grabs the bag when everyone is preoccupied in the living room now, before he follows the path you took out the back door. It's now late in the day, with dusk cresting over the neighborhood and the clime becoming a pleasant chill. He makes it out the back patio and glances out at the nice and appointed backyard, spotting the shed in question tucked against the back corner, near the shadier side of the property, and across from the herb garden.

Javier traverses the grass and finds the shed open, with the single bulb on, but no you.

The bag you'd brought is on the long workbench tucked against the wall, so he lopes in and places the one he's carrying next to it. The shift of the air when the door closes behind him surprises Javi. That is, until he hears your footsteps come up behind him from where you'd been tucked hidden on the other side of the open door before you loop your arms around his waist and lean into him.

"I'm sorry for all the hubbub," you murmur into his back, smiling when he scoffs and turns easily in your arms so he can hold you and gaze affectionately down into your sultry expression.

"Don't be silly. I've had a great time," he chuckles, intending to pull you along to go back to the house, when you resist, surprising him when you suddenly press him back against the workbench. "Querida—"

"Shush. I've been dying to do this since yesterday," you growl as you fist your hand in the back of his hair and tug him down to meet your hungry kiss.

Torridly, you press flush against him, twirling your tongue lasciviously along his, drinking his groan of desire and becoming alight when his hands paw you into his embrace.

Javi gasps when you nip at his bottom lip and arch for more, so he picks you up and sits you on top of the workbench to stand between your open legs before wrapping his arms around your lower back to yank you flush against him in order to kiss a searing path from your mouth to your clavicle. You grip at his shoulders and mewl, angling your pelvis to the edge of the counter and grinding against the front of his jeans.

"F-Fuck, cariño, we can't," he groans and leans back, sparing a frantic look backward to make sure no one can see or hear you two – as if they could through the closed door. You protest and pull him into you, suckling a kiss into the column of his neck and pawing your hands down his sides to the front of his waist before tugging on his belt. "Mmph, baby—" he begins to warn in a husky grouse, but you kiss him, lips beseeching and sensual as they worship his own and coax him back into the heated make-out session.

When you try to resume unbuckling his belt, Javi stops you once again, so you whine in protest and break the kiss. "I want you," you heatedly murmur and wrap your legs around him. "Please, Javi—"

"Jesus fucking Christ, I want you too. But we can't—" he begins to grumble, just as worked up, but halts when you lean back and give him a scintillating stare as you take his hand at your waist and guide it to feel between your thighs. "S-Shit, mi amor," he groans when his fingers rub along the crotch of your panties, finding them soaked through with your arousal. "You're so fucking wet," is his growl as he keeps touching you over the drenched fabric, which has you biting your lip to stifle a needy mewl. "You…you're gonna be a good girl, and just let me get you off. Then, we're going back to the house and you will behave the rest of the night," he's assertively instructing as he nuzzles along your neck, suckling a teasing path down to your chest, where he rests his forehead and sighs when you whimper in protest. "It's that, or I stop."

Squirming, you plant your hands down on the workbench and nod vigorously in assent. Javi surprises you by yanking you off the counter and spinning you around to brace your front over his forearm to rest on the workbench, while his other hand rucks the crotch of your panties aside and cups your warm, tingling pussy. He hitches himself against you from behind, so you can feel how rock-hard he is for you in his jeans, and proceeds to finger-fuck you. His thick digits plunge into your throbbing cunt and the pad of his thumb seats itself over your aching clit while he greedily kisses you over your shoulder in order to smother your whimpers and cries of pleasure.

At the mercy of him in this position – standing on your leather-flat-clad tippy toes and braced forward against the surface of the workbench, hands splayed out in front of you for purchase. Not to mention with Javi's hard-on rutting against your ass – you're quickly worked into a frenzy that has you careening towards climax. And when it hits after he corkscrews his fingers into your rippling sheath and curves them simultaneously with the grind of his thumb on your clit, you shatter with pleasure, gasping a sob of ecstasy as Javi makes you come all over his hand.

He prolongs yours bliss with his fingers working in and out of your tingling cunt until you go lax in his embrace and he has to hold you from melting onto your knees on the plank floor.

"Got you, mi corazón. I've got you," he coos before he kisses you back to your senses. "Now, I'm going to take care of you, then you're going to be good for me and come back to the house, right?"

You dimly nod and obediently turn around in his arms, leaning against the workbench so he can right your appearance. He rucks your panties back into place, pets your hair out of your face and back over your shoulders, and stands back from you to palm the crotch of his jeans before adjusting himself to not be obviously sporting a boner when he walks back into the house. As he does so, he judiciously sucks his fingers clean of your slick and laves his tongue along his palm until he's sure he can wipe it on the taut denim of his thigh without risking leaving an unseemly stain.

Satisfied, he herds you close, nuzzling a loving kiss into your temple before affectionately patting your ass and husking, "Alright, you go in first. I'll be right behind you, hermosa."

You dreamily smile up at him and steal one last luscious kiss from his full, pillowed lips before opening the shed door and flouncing out, crossing the ample yard and trotting up to the patio. Javi watches you go, internally swearing that you're going to be the death of him – either from how deeply he loves you, or from the insane case of blue balls he now has. Grunting to himself, he switches the bulb off and walks out, closing the shed behind himself.

When he looks at his watch, he times that the entire tryst took maybe fifteen minutes, and hopes it wasn't long enough of an absence to have been noticed. His cock is aching in his jeans – face feeling hot in the cool evening air, and he's now craving a cigarette badly.

He sneaks back into the house and gets to the bedroom his duffle is in to rifle through it for the packet of nicotine gum he's sure he shoved into one of the pockets. He finds it in the second pocket he shoves his hand in. The first had your pilfered panties in it. He figures he'll need them later tonight, at the rate he's going. Returning to the living room, chewing the gum and nonchalantly slipping back into the amiable gathering, Javi finds you blithely sitting on the couch, talking to one of Miguel's sisters.

No one seems to have noticed you'd both slipped away, so he pleasantly chats the rest of the while with Miguel and the brother until the first of the wave of departures start. The sisters say goodnight, then Miguel's parents, and soon after, your aunt and cousin hug you tight and wish you a safe trip back.

"—See you next week, Javi! Be sure to keep my prima from getting kidnapped any more," your cousin cheekily demands as she hugs Javi before Miguel shakes his hand and claps him on the back in farewell.

"That's the plan," Javi quips, kissing your aunt on the cheek and wishing her a goodnight as well.

You snicker and wave goodbye, then shut the door and lock up before turning to catch your grandmother conspiratorially whispering something in Javier's ear, watching as his expression quirks with something akin to flustered guilt.

Arching a brow questioningly at them, you purse your lips when she sees she's caught. Your grandmother just adjusts her braid over her shoulder and declares, "Do an old woman a favor and tidy up? All this socializing has me tuckered out! I'm going to bed. See you both bright and early," then kisses Javi and you on the cheek goodnight before retiring to her bedroom down the hall.

Furrowing your brow at him, he rubs at the back of his neck bashfully, so you sigh and shake your head amusedly before chiming silkily, "Want to put away the chairs while I tackle the kitchen?"

Giving you a lopsided smirk, he nods, pecks you on the cheek, and pats you on the ass affectionately before rumbling, "Ándale, gatita."

You snicker and hop to it, shooting him a flirty glance over your shoulder as you saunter into the kitchen.

You've managed to scrub the pots and pans, washed and rinsed the utensils and plates, and are in the middle of finishing with all the cups and glasses when he lopes in and clocks in next to you, grabbing a dishtowel and working on drying everything requiring it before it gets stored in the cupboards. The house is quiet, save for the lulling breeze coming through the backdoor's screen and through the windows, so you are content to listen to the rustling of the trees and the soft chirp of the nocturnal animals humming through the neighborhood.

Once he's stored the last plate in the cabinet, Javi tosses his gum into the trash before pulling it out and knotting the bag to be chucked outside. When he comes back in from setting the garbage out, he finds you wiping down the counter and righting the chairs into alignment into the table. He takes the moment to watch you, content and unburdened by the usual stresses that plague him, and feeling miles away from what happened the day before. You were safe, vibrant and fucking sexy as you move around the kitchen, now storing the dishrag to drape over next to the sink while you tidy up the sugar and coffee containers back onto their cubby on the counter.

Smiling, you peek at him over your shoulder, making it clear with the alluring crinkle of your dazzling eyes that you knew he was there the whole time, just standing and gazing at you so.

"Well?" you query as you turn and lean back against the lip of the counter. When he grunts and crosses his arms to lean his shoulder coolly into the doorframe, you press, "What was she whispering in your ear, hmm?"

He nips at his bottom lip as he tucks his chin bashfully into his chest and peers over sheepishly at you with those coffee-brewed eyes of his. "She said that she'd been happy to run interference for us, and that we were lucky no one really noticed how smiley you were or how flushed I was from our trip to the shed," he tells you and self-consciously rubs his hand along his jaw. Eyes lighting up with mirth, you sputter to contain your giggles. "It's not funny, atrevida—"

"Aww, it's not?" you croon playfully as you strut over to lean into him, grinning when he grunts testily and seats his hands just above your hips. "Javier, if you've forgotten, we're grown adults. It's the 90's. She knows I have sex—"

"Cristo amado, preciosa. I know that, but c'mon, it's mortifying," is his surly grumble, and you amusedly caress your hands impishly up his chest to squeeze his shoulders. "Hey, I told you to behave."

"I am behaving," you counter, adding glibly, "I'm not pouncing on you. I want to climb you like a tree right now, but I'm behaving."

He blows a raspberry at that and shakes his head, smiling when you encircle your arms around his waist and hug him. Acerbically, he drawls, "We can't fool around in the house. No way I'm risking getting caught—"

"Oh my god, who knew you were so old-fashioned and traditional, not to mention so easy to embarrass," you tease, looping your arms around his shoulders now and wrinkling your nose goofily at him when he rolls his eyes snootily. "You're a shameless strumpet most days—"

"Strumpet?!" he sneers humorously, squinting down at your mischievous smile and squeezing your waist puckishly. "Alright, you're winding me up to get a rise out of me, but it ain't happening, burlona. Now, you done in here? Because we have a long-ass drive ahead of us tomorrow," Javi chidingly grouses, but there's no real edge to it, especially when you bat your lashes and dampen your lips sexily at him. "Well?" he drones, holding firm as he arches his brow and eyes you stubbornly.

With a dramatic huff, you step back and shut the kitchen light off. "Yes, gruñón. All done. I'm going to straighten things up in the living room. You go take a shower and unwind," you sigh and pleasantly caress his cheek before kissing him on the lips tenderly.

"Fine, but don't stay up too late," he purrs and nuzzles your jaw before pinching your waist lovingly.

You hum agreeably and nudge him along before strutting into the living room to right the cushions and move the coffee table back into alignment with the couch. Javi fondly watches you before forcing himself to go shower and get ready for bed.

He's been lying under the covers for a few minutes now, trying to control his libido and avoid succumbing to his horny needs. After all, he certainly doesn't feel right jerking off to get the release he's been aching for most of the night, and is mortified by the thought he could be walked in on. So, he's rubbing at his forehead and silently trying to conjure all the things that are a turn-off in an attempt to cool his arousal.

He hears the turn of the doorknob and the soft click, so he drops his hand from his forehead and glances over in time to see you breeze in and shut the door soundlessly. You're in that demure-yet-sexy nightgown, and it's the last thing he needs to see right now when he's grappling with his baser desires.

"Querida…" he begins to admonish, but when you turn to look at him, it's pure seduction in your eyes, and you smile angelically as you scamper over to the bed and begin to climb onto it. "…You…you're not behaving right now," he murmurs and begins to sit up, when you prowl over him and push him back down into the pillow. "We can't—"

"I know. We're not doing anything, hermoso," you whisper and brush your hand over his hair soothingly before caressing soft, petal-gentle kisses along his countenance as you susurrate, "I'm going to make you feel good. And you're going to be a good boy and let me take care of you, because you deserve it, and it makes me feel special to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

Javi lights up, stretching out under you and becoming pliant as you finally brush your lips over his. The amorous kiss and your sultry petition have him throbbing in his pajama bottoms, so you maneuver the covers over and straddle his thighs in order to worshipfully trail your lips down his torso towards the bulge beyond his waistband. His abs tense and a shaky hum catches in his chest when you swipe your tongue above his navel before pressing an open-mouth kiss over it.

Arching when you tug the waistband of his bottoms away to free his thick erection, Javi has to clamp his hand over his mouth to snuff his needy groan when your mouth begins mapping the underside of his cock. You suck on his frenulum, palming his steel-wrapped-in-velvet shaft in order to kiss along it lovingly. He's already so worked up that pre-cum has collected at the head of his swollen tip, so you decide to not tease him any longer.

The soft, wet slide of him being sucked into your warm mouth has Javi's eyes fluttering shut as he moans into his hand and writhes up for more, bucking his hips when you hum and hollow out your cheeks around his throbbing cock.

You love giving him pleasure like this. It makes you feel powerful, able to strum delight through him, to dominate him while on your knees as you try not to choke on his cock. It's exhilarating when you know he's wound up and edgy about getting caught, but desperate to get off after going without for so long. And while it's got you wet and needy for him, you concentrate on sucking him off the way you know he likes it, and when you cup his balls and squeeze lightly, Javi buries his whine into his palm before fisting his free hand in the bedding as his cock swells and strains in your mouth just before he fills it with his climax.

Accomplishedly, you moan around him and stroke him through it while you swallow his spill, making sure to milk his cock of his release until he's shivering and panting harshly against his hand.

Javi melts heavily into the bed on a reedy exhale, hand flopping onto his chest just below a collarbone as he drunkenly recovers and dimly feels you shift to tenderly kiss his softening length before you adjust the cotton bottoms back into place. Your warm lips trail up his midriff before you lean to cheekily flick the tip of your tongue over his nipple. He lets out a charged breath and snickers as he moves his hand from his chest to bury in the back of your hair in order to guide you down to lie on top of him.

"I love you so much. Today was so…wonderful. Yesterday feels like it was a bad dream. That's because of you…how you make me feel," you find yourself speaking your stream of consciousness in a soft whisper while Javi combs his fingers through your hair as his other hand caresses gently along the back of your shoulder. "I…I want to make you feel just as good—"

"You do," he rumbles and nuzzles you. "You always do. I love you too."

Buzzing with the wave of happiness his words tingle through you, it's easy for you to lean up and gaze openly at his heavy-lidded eyes and pensive smile. "So does that mean you're up to misbehave and have hot, passionate sex right now?" you provocatively purr and make your point by straddling his lap so he can feel how warm you are between your thighs.

"Fuuuck," Javi drags out in a frustrated exhale, heat flaring across his skin and making him burn with need all over again. "You're a damned temptress, you know that?" is his surly growl as he clasps his hands on your thighs and thwarts you from grinding over him. "You want to get us caught?!"

"I'm willing to risk the chance," you retort simply, and when he tosses his head back onto the pillow in frustration, you huff and relent. "Alright, fine," you scoff before shifting off of his lap to lean over him and steal a peck from his lips before stating tauntingly, "You're such a wannabe choirboy, when you're really an insatiable stud, but fine, I can control myself and wait until we get home."

"I'm not the only one who's insatiable, malvadita," he grouses and sits up to tow you back over for one last passionate kiss.

He makes you weak in the knees, so much so that when he pulls back, you chase his lips until you pout when he smirks smugly at you. Scoffing, you ruffle his hair daringly and growl, "Tease."

His chuckle is velvet over steel, so you shove him playfully before standing and sauntering to the door with a parting, "Goodnight, galán," murmured over your shoulder at him.

"Sleep tight, cariño," he innocently drawls in that canela-dipped timbre before settling back down into bed and watching you wryly shake your head as you slip out of the room.

You manage to get to sleep, exhaustion taking you into a sound slumber. So much so, that you don't stir at all the rest of the night. It's early the next morning when you feel someone stirring you from your deep sleep.

"Lindita. Wake up! Come and see," your grandmother is whispering as she shakes and pats your shoulder.

"See what?" you groggily mumble as you sit up and yawn into the back of your hand.

She's smiling giddily, so you push the covers back and scurry out of bed to follow her out of the bedroom to quietly tiptoe down the hall to the kitchen. When you peek in, you practically fawn out loud.

Javi's wearing a faded gray Henley shirt and dark blue jeans, with one of your grandmother's aprons looped around his neck and over the front of his torso as he tends to the huevos rancheros sauce he's stirring in the pan. He's humming to himself, completely unaware that you're both peering around the corner with dual Cheshire cat smiles at the sight of him.

Your grandmother squeezes your forearm playfully and beams as she mouths, 'I love him.'

The sublime feeling that fills you up is unlike anything you've ever experienced.

'He's mine, so don't get any ideas,' you mouth back to her, and she snickers.

You both sneak back down the hall, rush to get dressed, and then lope back down casually, as if you hadn't spied on him in the kitchen. When you enter, Javi's just finished plating the first dish.

"What is this? You dare to cook in my kitchen? For shame, mijo!" your grandmother jokingly scathes as she rushes over to marvel at the meal before leaning up to kiss Javi affectionately on the cheek. "Oh, these are the famous juevos rancheros, eh?"

"They are. And this plate's for you," he retorts warmly as he serves the dish and pulls out a chair for her.

"Sucking up to my abuela? Really? She already loves you, you overachiever!" is your snarky tease as you notice he brewed a kettle of coffee. "And you made coffee?!"

"I did," he chuckles and kisses you chastely on the lips, shooting your faded-but-well-loved David Bowie shirt a teasing glance before he pats the back of your blue-jean-clad hip flirtatiously and drawls, "But need you to warm up the milk and show me how she takes it."

You see your grandmother swoon merrily behind Javi, so you grin at him before retrieving what you need and showing him. When he takes off the apron, you playfully tug at the front of his stretchy cotton shirt and purr, "No button down?"

"It's all I had left that was clean in the duffle," he rumbles and cheekily squeezes your waist before plating the last two dishes and gesturing for you to sit and eat.

Breakfast is a wonderful affair, making it all the more difficult to pack the car and say your goodbyes. The sudden separation anxiety that wells in your chest when you and Javi step out onto the porch causes you to turn and look at your grandmother with a lump in your throat. She senses your distress and holds out her arms to you. The hug is fortifying, and only a couple of tears escape past your lashes and roll down your cheeks as she coos, "I know, mija. I'll miss you, but you'll both be back in no time. Everything will be fine."

You kiss her cheek and nod before quickly swiping your face with the backs of your forefingers to clear the tear streaks. "I'll call every day. You make sure to let me know if there's anything needed still that I can help with—"

"You've done plenty, mi niña!" she scoffs amusedly before looking at Javi and gesturing to you. "Take care of my lindita, mijo. And be sure to come prepared for quite the celebrating next weekend!"

Javi chuckles and nods before giving her a kiss on the cheek and one last hug goodbye. "Consider it done, ma'am."

She's waving enthusiastically from her porch as you both drive off a few minutes later, and that anxiety is completely gone for now, because you look over at Javi after he rests his warm hand lovingly on your thigh, and feel a sense of calm wash over you.

"You sure you don't want me to drive?" he asks, stare gentle as he adds humorously, "I know our track record in cars when I'm the one driving, but I promise to be on my best behavior."

You laugh, melodious and enchanting as you shake your head. "It's fine. We can switch at the halfway mark, if that's alright," you chuckle and pat his hand, smiling when he relaxes and leans back into his seat.

As you exit the neighborhood en route for the highway, you remember how you'd promised that you'd tell him what was bothering you at work. So, reluctantly, you figure that since you're driving onto the freeway now, and it would be a long period before you can pull over, that now might be the best time of any to divulge what happened. Well, more specifically, to tell him some curated version of what happened, seeing as the whole truth might send Javi into a furious spiral. He's just finished adjusting the passenger seat back to accommodate his height and reached into the back to retrieve his concealed service weapon from his duffle before he opens your glove compartment and stores it in there when you were about to pipe up.

You shoot him a surprised look instead, and he shrugs as he settles back in the seat with a reassuring, "Just in case, is all."

Nodding, you concentrate on the road ahead, deliberating while he goes into his back pocket for the packet of nicotine gum and pops one loose. As he's chewing on it and admiring how your perfume entwines with the fresh smell your car's little air freshener's scent thanks to the air conditioning keeping the interior cool under the rising heat of the early morning sun, you reach for the radio and turn the soft salsa down further before clearing your throat.

"So…since all we have is plenty of time to kill, I figure now is a decent time to tell you about what's been bothering me," you offer cautiously, sparing him a sidelong glance as you get in the cruising lane.

Javi perks up at that and stretches out his legs, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows before he crosses his arms casually. "We don't have to if you don't want to, querida," he assures, brown eyes gentle as they regard your pensive expression.

"Well, to be honest, I don't want to tell you at all, but I promised, so I'd rather do it now before we get home," you sincerely retort and let out a sigh when his gaze sharpens at that. "First off…you were right. Something happened at work that made me feel the need to expedite the linkup here. Missing the deadline for it would've set us back for a launch with stateside, but they're not setup completely either, so it wouldn't have been too detrimental. I just want everything on our end to be ready," you pause, shaking your head when you realize you're rambling. "Anyway…Crosby told me weeks ago that CIA wanted to be included in the pilot. The night you'd gone to Curaçao, Stechner came into my office and gave me a list of resources from his team he wanted to be on boarded into the pilot."

You can feel Javi wind up with anger, his jaw working to testily chew his gum while he says nothing as his shoulders square up and his forearms flex from how tightly he's crossing his arms over his chest now.

Taking a cleansing breath, you tell him objectively, "When we looked into his list, the bulk of them had no business being part of the pilot. So, I told him as much, accepted only two of his people, and thought that was that—"

"You told him…personally?" Javi asks guardedly, pausing in his chewing to stare at you, brown eyes simmering with disgruntlement.

Pressing your lips together, you internally grumble at yourself. You need to admit it now…

"Yes. He's an ass and he doesn't have a deputy or normal meeting hours, so I sprung up on him the way he had to me when you'd gotten rotated out. I got word he was leaving his office late, so I got in the elevator and accosted him with my decision," you tell Javi honestly, and when you see his shoulders wind back, you charm, "The look on his beady-eyed face, and how sour he was when I left with the last word was worth the minute ride down with the prick—"

"Was all this before or after he'd tried to fuck with you by saying I was flirting up Jurado's wife?" Javi asks in an even, albeit, gruff rumble as he grumpily rolls down the window to chuck his spent gum out before rolling it back up.

Steeling yourself, you dampen your lips before answering again.

"He'd pulled that stunt after giving me the list of his resources he wanted for the pilot. And I proverbially took him down a peg the night you were gone on the San Jardín raid," you explain, glancing over to gauge his temper while still concentrating on the flow of traffic ahead and around you. His shoulders are still squared, but he's trying to quell his annoyance. When he huffs and cups his hand in order to absently scrub his fingers over his moustache and lips in an attempt to shed his testy energy, you sigh, deciding you need to just come out with it. "Everything that happened with Francesca?" you announce, and focus your gaze straight ahead, as you finally tell him matter-of-factly, "I can't prove it, but he as much as admitted to being responsible for the anonymous flagging of her visa when he came into my office end of day after I'd come back from dropping her off—"

The entire time you'd been detailing what had happened, Javi had tried to rein in the bubbling fury that began to fill him. He even tried to do the little coping mechanism for deescalating the wave of frustration you'd told him you use in order not to lose your patience or temper on him. Count to ten. But, when you got into telling him about Stechner retaliating against you by maliciously torpedoing your intern's visa? Well, Javi only made it to the count of 'two' before the fury snapped loose and had his chest puffing out as he whirled on you.

"What?" he barks, and you feel a little chill skitter down your spine as you betray a glance over and see how pissed he is. His eyes are blazing as he contumely fumes, "He was responsible for that, and he went to your office to rub it in, and you didn't tell me?!"

"I-I didn't because I knew you'd get irate," you defend and tear your eyes away to focus on the road while following up quickly with, "It has nothing to do with you, and I wanted to keep it that way—"

Javier feels impotent rage roil in him, curling his fists as he wars with the impulse to lash out, and settles for snarling, "Nothing to do with me?! That fucking piece of shit wouldn't be targeting you at all if it wasn't for his obsession with fucking me over!" He grinds the heel of his palm into his forehead and curls his fist in to press it furiously against his mouth as he lets out a wordless huff. He runs his hand in frustration through his hair, before he slaps his other hand down onto his knee as he rails, "I'm going to kill him. I will track him down and destroy him and everyone else who fucking slithers around doing his fucking dirty work—"

You let out a forlorn sigh, and Javi's angry glare snaps over to you.

His rancor immediately clears when he sees how sad you are.

Your eyes are trained ahead, attention on autopilot while you've turned your gaze within in order to combat the weary upset that threatens to pour out of you. Javi feels instant guilt and shame for reacting so volatilely, after the tumultuous few days you've had.

He says your name in a soft whisper before reaching his hand to squeeze your shoulder solemnly as he hitches thickly, "—I-I'm such a fucking asshole…I'm sorry, mi amor. I understand why you didn't tell me," he pauses when you take your hand from the steering wheel to longingly clasp it over his and nod vigorously to let him know you hear him, but can't risk looking at him. Not with how tears are burning to spring over in your eyes.

You're not upset because he blew his stack. After all, you'd expected his reaction to be vehement and bellowing. No, you're really upset because of the overwhelming feeling that swam back to you in the moment, and your own guilt for not telling him the heavier stuff. How you suspected Stechner capable of sabotage, both professionally with the system you're managing and your standing at the embassy, and personally. That for a split-second, you thought the man capable of being a silent participant in your kidnapping, which is something you know would send Javier over the edge into nuclear destruction. He'd go scorched earth on the man, regardless of the personal fallout it would cause him, and you will not be responsible for triggering that.

"I just," your voice cracks, so you banish the sadness – burying it deep down, and shift in your seat busily as you return your hand to the steering wheel and clear your throat. "I can't prove a thing, Javi. And having you go ballistic? Letting you rip that bastard's head off only to get yourself kicked out of the country, or worse…I just couldn't abide that. Not after everything," you tell him resolutely and look at him now, eyes glossy with unshed tears as you dab the back of your hand to your nose before taking a fluttering breath and staring back at the road as you susurrate, "I can't lose you again."

Javi feels gutted. His heart wrings in his chest at how much this has weighed you down. How you'd felt compelled to bear the burden of it and had been clearly suffering the stress and worry, just to keep him shielded from it. He wants so badly to take it all away – to make everything right and unmarred by the toxicity of being constantly antagonized by the surreptitious spitefulness that comes with his job. To be your shield, and protect you from the likes of Stechner and everyone else who would try to do you harm, just to get to him. But right now? He just wants to make you smile. To cheer you up and smoothen over the fracas he'd almost allowed to roil things between you both.

Determinedly, Javi forces himself to shove all that away and gaze over at you while you silently concentrate on driving.

"Alright, fine…I won't kill him, then."

You blink, snapping your gaze comically at him to make sure you heard his huffy deadpan correctly, and when he just shoots you a surly little pout as he crosses his arms crankily, you laugh. Despite how macabre the joke is, you can't help dissolve into a giggle fit before reaching your hand over to playfully grip his shoulder and shove at it before squeezing his deltoid cheekily. He betrays a little smirk, relieved to have coaxed your mirth out, so he leans over and kisses your cheek before grunting at your soft scent and deciding to shower relentlessly silly kisses across your jaw.

"No distractions!" you giggle and swat him playfully away. "¡Me vas a hacer chocar!"

Javi laughs at how impishly harried your voice got when you exclaimed 'You're going to make me crash!' before worrying your bottom lip between your teeth in order to stifle the beaming smile threatening to crest your features.

The turbulent tension of before is long gone now, and once Javi puts the radio up and pats your thigh affectionately, you interlace your fingers in his and fall into an easy banter while you cruise down the highway.

You both chat about the upcoming wedding, the plans you're already making for where you both can stay – "I am not going to want to behave and sleep in separate rooms!" – and you lament about some of the errands you hadn't gotten a chance to run.

"Well, what's left?" Javi asks musingly and settles back into his seat to get more comfortable.

"I got to get a blue dress, shoes, book the hotel—" you list off as you merrily drive, unaware how fondly Javi's stare is as he watches you count off on your fingers without removing your hands from the steering wheel. "Oh! And do you need a suit?" you suddenly exclaim and glance over at him, blinking prettily as you catch him staring.

He can't help use your cute pause to drawl, "I have to get all dolled up for you and the in-laws?"

The heat that flares in your core and tingles delight into your womb makes it hard for you to scoff sarcastically as you shake your head at him. "I mean…yeah!" When he snickers, you shoot him a haughty look. "Well, what did you wear at your cousin's wedding?" you ask with a wry smile.

"A flannel shirt and jeans," Javi tells you simply and interlaces his fingers in order to prop his hands casually behind his head and the seat's headrest. You hum and press your lips together while nodding conciliatorily at him, as if that's so quaint you can't find words for it. "What?" he goadingly asks, eyes smoldering with teasing humor when you shoot him a flirty leer.

"You do know I'm going to dig into your closet and pick something out for you, right?" you end up countering sassily. "No flannel, or 'fuck me' jeans for you—"

"Oh, is that a fact?" Javi snickers and squints his eyes at you when you nod primly. "Tan pinche chingona…fine, I'll let you pick out my outfit," he chuckles, wryly rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand and bringing the other to tap at his lips dubiously before purring, "Can I pick out what you'll wear under your dress, then?"

Your hearty laugh is vivacious, and Javi feels like the sun is shining over him at how effervescently your guffaw bubbles out of you before dissolving into the silly little giggles and endearing sigh he loves so much.

The carefree comfort between you is like this – sweet and enchanting – throughout the first half of the drive, and when you make the first pit stop several hours later, you both make the best of the time by using the facilities before picking up snacks from the food stands that skirt the roadway leading into the gas station you stopped to fill your tank at. You buy a half-dozen empanadas from one kiosk and smile when you turn to see Javi's wandered over to the fruit stand and is chatting up the nice woman behind the counter while he picks out some naranjas, toronjas, and granadillas.

Something behind your breastbone aches at the sudden thought of how worried and terrified he'd looked when you'd seen him across the way at the bus station's mezzanine, and the guilt floods you anew. You've put him through so much, and part of you seethes at you for it. He's willing to risk everything that matters to him for you and your safety. You don't deserve it—

"Mmm, these are gonna be good for later." Javi's loping over to you with the bag of fruit in hand, eyes crinkling from his smile as he sees you holding the big paper sack packed with the delicious beef-filled fritters. "Pick up something to drink from the next kiosko, then get back on the road?" is his rumble as he puts his arm around your shoulders and leads the way to the next stand.

You smile and nod, leaning into him sidelong. "You sure you wanna drive the next half? I'm still good to stay at the wheel—"

"You are, but it's my turn," he jibes charmingly and kisses the top of your hairline before nudging you playfully to go on and peruse the offerings for beverages to-go that will keep for the next four hours of the drive.

With the food haul, the couple of cold sodas, and Javi adjusting the driver's seat back to accommodate his height, you both get back in the car and resume the second leg of your drive to the capital. While Javi drives, you fill the time chatting away, and while he tells you the story of how he'd spent one stakeout with Steve and Carrillo on the side of the road next to a fruit stand, you hold up an empanada so he can take healthy bites. You feed him sips from the soda too and goofily pick crumbs out of his moustache for him, grinning when he scoffs comically at you and twists his lips out of your reach with a silly grunt.

Four empanadas and a shared soda between you later, and you're making good time en route to Bogotá. You're enjoying this little road trip with Javi, relishing the intimacy and comfort you'd gone a week without while also clinging to the intense feeling of calm you feel when you're together now.

So, when a very familiar song comes over the radio and makes you feel an illogical bout of melancholy, Javi notices how quiet you get, and as the lyrics of the Vicente Fernández song play out, he spares a covert glance at you and sees your gaze get faraway like it does when your mind is taking you somewhere else.

It's a song about a father who goes from wanting a son to getting a daughter, and having to deal with the disappointment of that. But as time passes, his adoration makes him realize how much he loves his pretty daughter, and how he chides himself ever having wished for a boy in the first place. Not with how completely devoted and fulfilled he feels now. When the song gets to a particular section, you recede into the seat and your gaze gets glossy.

Si un día se casa mi niña vestida de

blanco armiño recordare que soñaba con

que al nacer fuera un niño,

por eso rezo y le pido al señor del gran poder

que el hombre que se la lleve la sepa siempre querer...

You're a little hesitant when you turn the music down on the radio after you snap back and shove the swirling sentiments the song stirred up in you down deep to be ignored. With a sigh, you absently shift in your seat and fuss with the seatbelt, hoping you can clear the lump in your throat without him noticing.

"I know this is going to annoy you, but…are you going to reach out to your father and let him know what happened?" Javier asks, hands so tight on the steering wheel that his bared forearms flex. He shoots you a tentative glance when you scoff.

"Absolutely not!" you snipe and cross your arms over your chest testily. "I already wish 'Buela had not witnessed me getting grabbed and in her panic, called you. But if she hadn't had your number, and had been relegated to calling him?! That would've been bedlam. There's no point telling him at all, ever," is your tirade before you hiss, "Shit. I have to remember to tell her not to mention anything of the sort if she ends up talking to him—"

So much for asking her what she thinks about wanting to meet her father, is Javier's laconic thought as he stares ahead at the road. Clearing his throat, he attempts neutrally, "I mean, what would he have done that would've been different than the average civilian—?"

"My father is not a civilian," you interrupt and shake your head before staring out the passenger window. "I honestly don't know how far he'd bend shit to get what he wants in a situation like that, but I never want to find out…."

"…You make him sound like a regular Admiral Nimitz," Javi drawls aloofly.

Your lips twitch from the scowl into an impressed lopsided smirk, always feeling a little fire of desire spring up in you when Javier shows how fucking smart, witty, or learned he is on the most random things. "I wish. Anyway, it's not something I think I should be advertising at all. I'm not going to even mention it to anyone else—"

"So, if your grandmother hadn't been there and called me, would you have ever told me about it?" Javi posits suddenly, and you can tell he's trying his best to keep his tone even, but his chest puffs out with tension. His eyes flare chestnut from the way the sunlight's glare catches across the windshield and glints in his gaze, full lips pressing together tightly when he clenches his jaw.

You lean sidelong into the door and pivot to attempt to look at him head on so you can read his reaction before he even knows he's betraying his feelings about your answer as you declare, "If I could've gotten snatched and returned the exact same way without involving anyone else? No. I wouldn't have told anybody." Javi lets out a pent up exhale and glowers, but says nothing, so you sigh and appeal, "They said they knew who my father was and were very aware he was not someone they could cross without dealing with major retribution. I was in no real danger…so, if I could spare anyone else the stress and terror of dealing with that, I damn well would've, Javier."

Grunting crossly, he chews on the inside of his cheek, and stews for a quiet beat. You sigh and shift back to settle more comfortably in the seat as you prop your arm against the window panel and cup your cheek to stare out at the passing cars and scenery.

"I understand why you would…but, I'm glad it didn't happen that way," Javi remarks tersely after a heavy silence. When you look over at him, surprised, he adds resolutely, "If the shoe was on the other foot, though? You'd rain holy hell down on me. But it's not, so, as soon as we get home, I'm going to make it crystal clear to you how much I fucking love you. And how I never want you to feel like you have to think that way about anything again."

Your eyes blaze with wonder when he glances haughtily over at you. He makes a mueca at you then, twisting his lips comically and squinting his soulful eyes impishly at you. With an effervescent laugh, you lean over to kiss his cheek when he feigns a sulky snit as he turns back to watch the road.

"Alright, stud. I get the point!" you chuckle and affectionately kiss the side of his neck before sitting back in your seat with a fawning sigh. "Tan chulo," is your silly lilt as you cheekily reach your hand to caress along the length of his thigh.

When said hand creeps further up and slips along the inseam of his thigh to glide across and brush over the crotch of his jeans, Javi sucks a breath in and growls huskily, "Now who's gonna make us crash. Behave, atrevida!"

You laugh enchantingly and cease your teasing to primly turn the radio up a bit and go back to relaxing and chatting together.

The serenity of feeling so settled in the moment with him, even after skirting such a turbulent topic, has you feeling appeased and indulged – so, you lean into it contently.

Javier feels just as settled, and when a comfortable silence eventually fills the space, he's content to let it rein. Especially when he catches glimpses of you slowly dozing off in the passenger seat. Your hand's propped against the window panel to act as a cushion for your temple, and the hum of the car driving along had lulled you to sleep, until you drowsily tucked your arms against your chest and rolled your head back against the headrest to get more comfortable.

While you sleep, Javi can't help let his mind wander back over to the whirlwind of events that had occurred the last few days. He'd sensed your hesitance earlier, and once his incensed anger had cleared enough for him to think analytically, his mind had deduced a few things. Firstly, there was more to the Stechner thing. Why did he think so? Because he sensed you had held back more to the story. As he takes the exit to head towards the capital, he can't help fixate on all the scenarios that could be bad enough reasons for you to omit more details from him. Was it work-related? Could he be fucking with something her department's handling—?

He then remembers what you'd said to Trujillo, and his blood runs cold.

"I want to be able to document the incident happened if and when I need proof of this being a retaliatory attack on me, personally. In case this isn't just the Cali cartel trying to leverage me to get to him."

Javi glances tensely over at your sleeping form, feeling that knot of worry tangle up in his chest. "I can't prove a thing, Javi…"

The more he thinks about it, the deeper the well of his anger and guilt gets. He could kill Stechner, and if he saw the man again in any capacity? Well, he just might be swayed by his smarmy smile to rearrange his face, but if any of these horrible theories he's come up with pan out to be true?

You shouldn't be thinking like this. You got jack-shit on the fucker. Anything you do will just blowback on her…

Brooding deeply now, Javi concentrates on navigating the route into the city to head down to your apartment. The orange rind-like glow of dusk is already dissolving into the horizon line behind the mountains, so he drives into early twilight towards your neighborhood and manages to find a spot on the corner next to your apartment complex. Once he's parked and turned off the engine, he looks over and ends up just gazing fondly at you, admiring how soft your countenance is in slumber like this with the soft purple-pink aura of sundown illuminating you.

Reaching his hand over to delicately brush his fingertips along your cheek before combing your rogue strands of hair back from your face to be tucked behind your ear, Javi murmurs, "We're home, corazón."

You begin to stir, eyes fluttering tiredly as you grunt and groggily sit up from your slumped posture in the seat. "Oh man, I'm sorry for passing out," you say around a yawn and take your seatbelt off as you look over at him and smile dreamily when you realize he's looming over the center console, so you're able to lean in quick and steal a peck from his lips. "Did I snore or drool?"

"Pfft, no, but at one point you made a grumpy face, and I wished I had that camera so I could've memorialized how cute you looked," he teases and cups your cheek before kissing you on the lips after you snicker.

Collecting your things, you and Javi exit the car after he's popped the glove box open to secure his gun and tuck it into the back of his jean's waistband. He grabs for your suitcase and his duffle after opening the trunk's hatch, while you retrieve your purse and the trash from all the snacks, as well as the bag of fruit he purchased. Once you've locked the car, you stroll side-by-side across the sidewalk and through the courtyard towards the stairs to your apartment. Javi affectionately encircles your waist with his arm in other to squeeze your hip as you climb the stairs to the second floor. You smile and playfully shoulder past him to get to your door first so you can retrieve your keys and unlock it, and as you're opening the door, you hear a little meow as the black cat ambles up the steps, seemingly having followed you both once you'd entered the area.

"Well, look who it is," you greet as you crouch to pet her head. "You'll have to ask the grumpy man if you can come in for the night," is your silly musing to the black cat as you stand and hold the door open for Javi.

The feline bumps her head against his ankle and rubs up against him. Javi blows a raspberry and grunts, "Sure, fine, as if I have a say."

You grin deviously and make a kissy sound to the cat, and she excitedly saunters through the door before you follow her in and tow Javi over the threshold by his belt buckle.

Having fed the cat and left her a little bundle to sleep in in the living room, you both leave the fruit on the kitchen island and head into the bedroom, where you intend to unpack to start on laundry. While he sets his firearm on the dresser, though, Javi convinces you to leave it in the luggage and just take it over to his place tomorrow to do the chore more conveniently there. Agreeing to do just that, you set both bags aside as he sits on the bed to remove his boots. Sparing him a teasing smile, you kick off your flats and run to grab the phone from the charging base mounted on the wall by the kitchen so you can dial your grandmother and let her know you made it home. She insists that you pass the phone to Javi, so you do and grin when he greets her warmly and chats with her, assuring her you were well behaved on the long drive cooped up together.

"—Don't worry. I'll take good care of her," he charms and shoots you a tongue-in-cheek look as you huff, yank your shirt off, and toss it at him daringly. He affectionately sends his love and tells her he's looking forward to spending another weekend with the whole family before he multitasks leering at you as you remove your jeans and stare alluringly at him while he says his goodbyes.

After you wish her a goodnight and promise to check in with her the next day, you end the call and toss the phone onto the nightstand. "I want you. I've needed you inside me for days, so get out of your clothes, come shower with me, and then all I want for the rest of the night is you," is your sultry murmur as you remove your bra, then your panties.

Javi is more than happy to oblige.

After he strips out of his well-worn clothes for the day, you hop in the shower together and end up rushing through the routine in order to catch up on lost time in bed.

You don't even bother pretending you're going to get into something to sleep in. Oh no. You instead shed your towel and stand before him in the nude after you shake out your hair from being up in a bun for the quick shower.

Javi takes you in, soulful eyes becoming smoldering pools of want as he discards his own towel and pulls you close. He encircles you with his arms and kisses you with the yearning he's bottled up for a week.

The soft breeze coming through your windows and past the curtains caresses your bodies as he takes you to bed, laying you over the cool bedding before settling between your thighs in order to kiss a worshipful path down your warm skin. When he brushes open-mouth kisses along your inner thigh after he stretches out on his belly and shifted his shoulders in order to spread your legs far apart, Javi rumbles, "I missed you. Don't think I can be without you like that ever again," before nuzzling a kiss into your mound.

Overcome, your breath hitches in your chest, and you tremble with need as you murmur, "You weren't without me, hermoso. Now quit being silly," and run your fingers through the top of his hair. He hums and resists coming back up to you to instead rest his forehead against your womb so he can bask in the comfort of your scent and warm skin for a moment before he adjusts your legs to hook around his shoulders as he nuzzles into your yearning cunt.

This feeling of being his? The blissful acceptance of belonging to him like this and trusting him completely spins you up into a dizzying pleasure just as fast as his tongue licking into you does.

It's exactly the same feeling for him. So, Javi eats you out with gusto, but the undercurrent of his desperation is palpable in the way he groans into your flesh and how his fingers work you over into a fierce climax. He's needed this for days, and the daunting anxiety of having come so close to losing you is something he suddenly has to shed by reveling in you. In making you come apart and proving to himself that you're his and will forever be safe with him.

You're in the throes of it, thighs clamping around his head and heels digging in behind his shoulders while your back arches off the bed and your fingers twist into the covers, core radiating with pleasure as Javi curls his fingers up and sucks hard on your clit to make you come again. You whimper out and shiver from the aftershocks of it, and Javi lifts his head from his worship to watch your breasts rise and fall from your shallow panting. He admires the flush of your features, and his cock throbs against the flat of his belly and the cotton of the covers when you open your eyes to heavy lids and stare dreamily down at him.

"Come here, mi rey," you susurrate and beckon for him. Javi is on his knees and hitching up between your thighs in order to loom over you before he's even registered the action. You smile sultrily and caress his features, doting and sensual as you lean up to kiss along his jaw to murmur in his ear, "You know you don't have to worry, right? I'm here. We're together, and nothing bad happened—"

He exhales and stubbornly hums at that before he rests his forehead against yours. As you wrap your arms around him and pull him close, Javi relaxes into you and admits, "I know, querida. I just…it just spun up in me."

Gaze becoming gentle, you kiss him softly on the lips before pulling back and snickering, "And I'm still all over you, mi beyaquito."

He laughs and showily scrubs the back of his hand across his mouth and chin before playfully kissing you all over until you giggle and try to roll him off of you, only to end up fooling around. When he secures your wriggling arms to be in his grasp, he pins your wrists down and gloatingly shows off in triumph by rubbing his hard cock against your tingling pussy. You hum and lick your lips as you arch your pelvis up and watch Javi's coffee-brewed eyes get dark with lust. He's forever aroused by your eager sensuality and effortless grace in making him feel so desired, so all whimsy flints away to be replaced with feral need.

When he presses into you, it's familiar but new after the week apart and the turbulent close call. You both feel tethered to one another like you never have before, and when his cock is buried to the hilt inside you, something blossoms in your chest and makes you open completely to him. Your whimper is breathy and yearning, body pulsing with pleasure as Javi pivots his hips into an angle that brushes fiery tingles across your core.

Javi makes love to you, not frenzied or wanton as you both had felt desperate for while rushing through the shower earlier, but the passion of it dials you both into this new something, and he feels filled up with it just as much as you're now coming undone by it. His kisses pull at your heartstrings, and when his hands unclasp your wrists in order to shift your legs up in order to hook your ankles to his shoulders, your possessive touch charges him like a livewire gone to sparks before he rocks out and back into you with a gruff groan.

This new angle turns you into rubber, leaving you only able to grip his triceps and dig your heels for purchase over his broad shoulders while Javi starts to pound into you, hitting dead-center into that nested cluster of hypersensitive nerves that melt you down into clay.

He feels your legs tremble against him and your cunt ripple around his cock as your cries grow to a fever pitch of overwhelmed excess just as you wail, "Oh my god—oh my god! Javi—!" and orgasm on a sobbed whine, gushing your climax against his apex as he pistons through your aftershocks and prolongs the nerve-quaking euphoria that washes over you.

Javier watched your features dissolve into ecstasy as you came, and it was the most glorious high he could feel, knowing that he made you feel like that. But when you opened your eyes and gazed up at him with glossy wonder and damp lashes, with your plush lips parted and beckoning him, he lost it, growling, "Te adoro, mi amor. No te merezco—"

"You do, you do, Javi. I love you. Eres el amor de mi vida," you declare on a fluttering moan and grip his forearms to anchor yourself up to shower frenetic kisses over his flushed features as he gasps and fucks you faster, chasing the fire in his belly as it untangles and snaps pleasure free from his apex.

He comes when your pussy clamps around him at the same time as you mewl and climax again, sobbing while you cling desperately to him and ride out the sensation of his hips grinding flush against you before he empties his bliss into your quivering sheath, cock swelling and erupting with deep surges of cum. His voice cracks on the groan of your name, and the wrecked contentment that etches his blushed-over, handsome features is yet another kind of bliss for you that warms your heart and brings you delighted peace.

Javi shakily pivots your legs to drape over the bend of his arms as he shifts backwards enough to maneuver so he can collapse over you without pinning your limbs into uncomfortable or awkward positions. Your legs stretch askew while you catch your breath and breathe in his warm, heady scent, skin scalding now that your post-coital forms are pressed against each other. Dimly, you manage to loop your arms drunkenly around to rub your hands along the smooth, sweaty planes of his back as you turn your face into his neck and nuzzle him with a soft sigh.

He grunts a spent, sated sound and shifts so he can sit up enough to kiss the heated skin across your cheek and brush his lips over yours tenderly before he rests his forehead to yours and just basks in the moment with you.

When the blissful high dissipates and you're both keenly aware of how sweaty and sticky you are, Javi nudges an affectionate kiss just below your ear before he props himself up and pulls out of your fluttering heat. You gasp at the sensation of losing his thick fill and feeling his cum leak messily out of your tingling cunt, and he groans at the sight as it crests that fierce feral pride in him. With a sweet trail of kisses from your tummy, over your breasts, and finally to your lips, Javi gets off the bed to retrieve a damp washcloth from the bathroom and returns to give you gentle aftercare, being mindful of how tender and sore you are as he glides the cool material over your delicate flesh.

Flipping it over and tending to himself, he heads back to dispose of the sullied washcloth, and a few minutes later, comes back with a bowl filled with slices of oranges and toronja for you to both share. You scoff amusedly and maneuver up to lounge on your side as he hands you the bowl and flops next to you onto the bed.

"Figured we can have the granadillas tomorrow," he rumbles and sucks on an orange wedge lewdly as he winks at you.

You laugh and pluck a gajo de toronja up from the bowl before popping it into your mouth and humming at the succulent citrus dancing on your tongue. "Mmm, yeah those are so sloppy to eat. And a bit sour," you muse as you stretch out like a sated tigress after one hell of a tussle.

"They are. I must've eaten eight of those while we were on that stakeout at the makeshift road stand," Javi chuckles and shifts down into the pillows with you, moves the bowl aside onto the nightstand before he plucks a small wedge of toronja up to teasingly trail a track of juice along the curve of your shoulder, and leans over to lick it up. "Yummy, que rica—"

With a flirty swat at his chest, you shove him onto his back and drape yourself over his torso in order to hold your mouth open in unspoken command that he feed you the piece of fruit. Javi does, dark eyes smoldering as he watches you purse your lips around the piece, but not bite into it. Instead, you slink up against him and offer to feed it to him from your lips. His grunt is gravelly but enticed as he accepts it, biting off a half while you take the other. The taste of your mouths now is warm citrus, and before long, you make love again.

This time, it's sensual and tender, and when you both reach release together, you're too enraptured by the blissful serenity of being tangled up like this in bed to want to be apart for even a few moments. So, you curl into each other and sleep, content and lulled by the comfort of being together in each other's arms once again.

At some point, though, Javi wakes up and carefully shifts out of bed to gently pull the covers back and tuck you under before he goes to the bathroom. He's just lifted the toilet seat and taken the position to pee when he jolts at the feeling of the cat weaving affectionately around his ankles. Huffing, he relieves himself and flushes, shooing the cat out so he can set the seat back down and wash his hands quickly.

The clock in the living room reads that it's late at night, so he grunts and goes over to the sink, grabbing a granadilla on the way and cracks it open so he can slurp up the gooey contents of the fruit's pulpy seeds and not make a mess. He chases the snack with a glass of cold water, chugging it greedily before exhaling contentedly and leaving it in the sink while he tosses the fruit's shell and skin into the trash. Grabbing another glass, he fills it with cold water and turns to head back to the bedroom, and spots the eerie glow of the cat's eyes as she peers at him from the chair she's just hopped onto and settled back down to sleep. Shaking his head, he walks down the hall to return to the bedroom.

It takes him a moment to realize that you've been tossing and turning in bed without him. But once he's set the glass onto the nightstand on your side of the bed, though, he hears you shift and make a little mewl in your sleep. Hurriedly, he rounds the bed to slide under the covers next to you and lies still, hoping it was just your unconscious stirring you up because you were suddenly alone.

He doesn't know that you're tumbling from a dream world of running through an empty, echoing terminal while shouting his name down into a miasma of anxiety that has you set adrift before you're tugged under. You're scared and thrashing up through the inky blackness towards the circle of light above the surface. You're struggling to get away from the darkness, panicking that it will pull you under, when you're suddenly squinting at the brightness of the sun that refracts across your face.

You blink and struggle to make your vision stop swimming, but realize you're no longer being towed under, so you sit up and realize you're in motion.

The scene sharpens, coming into focus, as you feel suddenly trapped behind your dreaming gaze. You look around, recognizing the backseat of the Cadillac, but are confused by why you're riding in the back. Your palms feel cold and like they're cupping a glass bottle sweating condensation while the soda fizzles and swirls crisply in you ears. But when you reach your hands up, the kola bottle is gone, and you realize your wrists are bound together with a zip-tie.

The panic of before zings across your psyche as you jolt and try to clamber away from the sinking feeling at your back. But then, just as you're convinced you need to reach out to the front passengers for help, you peer over the leather back of the front seats to find them empty. Gaping out through the windshield, you see you're on the winding mountain road, careening down the curve and towards the metal guardrail with the tropically lush valley just beyond it.

Before you can activate your paralyzed mind into action or dive to reach for the steering wheel, the Cadillac smashes through the barrier, and you feel yourself start to plummet down towards oblivion—

Javier realizes you're dreaming when your legs spasm under the blanket and your hands grip the pillow as you whimper distressed little noises, so he rolls onto his side to loop his arm around your waist and gently pull you into his chest. It's then, as you're plummeting in your dream, that you startle awake with a scared gasp and rile against him for a split second before his soft, hushed, "It's ok, cariño. You were just dreaming. I've got you," anchors you to desperately wrap your arms around him and cling for dear life as you bury your face in his neck and try to center yourself.

He feels how you're trembling, so he holds you tight and soothingly nuzzles kisses to the parts of you he can reach with how wound up and curled into him you now are. Worried and eager to pacify your panic while his sadness tangles up in his chest with how upset you are from the dream, Javi finds himself cooing gently, "You're safe, querida. I have you. I'm not going to let you go..."

At his words, and when your heart keeps racing and wringing with the anxiety of your dream, you get choked up by the sob that catches in your throat and steals your breath, and before you can help it, you're softly weeping – utterly overwhelmed with some frustrated sense of grief that's swept up your fear in it's eye and left you clinging to the bone-splitting relief you feel at being in Javi's arms.

Soothingly, he comforts you, rubbing your back and letting you tuck yourself protectively against him to be rocked in his embrace while he murmurs to you, 'I love you, preciosa – it was just a bad dream – it's alright – I'll protect you, mi amor—'

While you let his voice and gentle words unfurl the relief to overtake the upset of your dream, you mechanically wipe the back of your palm over your tear-streaked cheeks and across your sniffling nose before you force yourself to take a fortifying inhalation of breath and let it loose. Javi's lips brush the top of your head, and you reassure him you're all right now by caressing the side of his neck and nuzzling into his clavicle.

You start to truly settle down and regain your breath, willing your composure to wash over you as your mind is lulled into calm by Javi's gentle, velvety baritone husk of, "It's ok not to be ok. I'm here for you, querida."

It was the salve to the wound you didn't know you needed, hearing him say that while holding you to him with such care.

When you finally relax and dissolve into him, you brush worshipful kisses over his jaw, throat and collarbones before you tuck your head under his chin and let out a shaky, relieved sigh.

Soothingly, Javi brushes his hand through your hair and feels relief settle in his chest when you go soft in his arms and doze off in his embrace.

He wonders what your nightmare was about, but after everything that's happened, he decides he won't pry or bring it up at all, unless you need to confide and work through it; to get it out and processed. He feels something jostle the corner of the bed and makes out the dark shadow-like silhouette of the cat as she saunters up to almost empathically drape herself over the bend of your legs tucked under the covers and start purring sibilantly until she tuckers herself out – and lulls him to sleep too.

When he next wakes, it's a little before dawn, and he finds that in your slumber, you've both ended up spooning. You're nestled against him with the arm he's wrapped around your waist pinned to your side from your hand having interlaced your fingers with his. Your womb is warm and supple against his palm, and the skin at the back of your neck is cool as he presses his lips there covetously before stretching his legs a bit and finding that the little black cat was tucked in the crook made by the backs of his knees.

He can't help soundlessly exhale his snicker past his lips as he settles back down and closes his eyes, thinking amusedly to himself that he's sandwiched by two nimble little vixens. The silly thought has a pleased tickle fluttering in his chest as he dozes back off.

You wake up a while later, right before the alarm was set to go off. Javi's soft purring snore is at the back of your neck, and you smile as you nimbly shuffle away, biting your lip to stifle making a sound from how your aching legs, thighs and hips resist you. As you shift to the side of the bed so you can reach for the clock and turn off the alarm before it blares, you smile at the glass of water Javi set out for you. It looks inviting, so you take it and drink with gusto, draining the glass until your thirst is quenched. You've just set it back down and attempted to shuffle back under the covers when the cat bolts up and peers over at you from the other side of Javi.

She lets out a long yawn and vaults over his legs, and Javi grumbles in his sleep and rolls over. You shush the feline and lie back down – trying to not wince at how your sore muscles throb in protest – while you pat the spot between you and Javi for her to come settle down in. She does merrily and lets you pet her until she starts to purr and lowers her head to rest on her stretched out front legs. As you pet her rhythmically, you stare at Javi's back, watching as it broadens and eases with his relaxed breathing. It calms you, and you end up shutting your eyes for what you thought would be a few moments, but then end up drowsily stirring suddenly by the cat meowing imploringly.

"Hmmph, fuck, alright. I'm awake," Javier's cranky grumble wakes you completely to turning your head on the pillow and watching as the cat climbs him before he huffs and nudges her off him onto the bed, where she mewls impatiently. "What?" is his grumpy question to the cat.

Sleepily, you pull yourself up into a lounging position to bury the yawn you let loose into the back of your hand as you answer for the feline, "She wants to go out," before looking over at the clock and frowning. "Mmph, we slept later than we should. We still need to get your car from the airport," is your sigh. Javi grunts and sits up to wring his hands tiredly across his face, which annoys the cat to meow admonishingly for his attention. "Alright, just wait a sec, señorita. Let me get some clothes on and I'll let you out—" you begin to assure the cat as you sit up completely and shuffle to the side of the bed.

But before you can swing your legs out and over, Javi caresses your back as he rumbles, "Lie back. I'll let her out."

Before you can protest, Javi's bound out of bed and grabbed for his gray sweatpants, slipped them on, and snapped his fingers at the cat for her to follow him. She perks up and happily follows, galloping off the bed and down the hall to be right on his heels as he gets to the front door, unlocks it, and cracks it open enough for her to hurry out. Grunting, he shuts and locks up, yawning into the back of his forearm as he trudges back into the bedroom. Instead of finding you cozy in the bed still, you've just slipped into your silky robe and tossed your hair to fan down your back.

Flopping onto the bed sidelong, he watches your shoulders relax when you let out a sigh and turn to peer over your shoulder at him. Your eyes are pensive, but bright, stirring him to sit up and swing his legs over to the side of the bed in order to sit next to you. He's formulated what he wants to say – planning to assure you that you don't have to talk about last night. That everything is all right, and you both can just put it behind you—

You pivot to straddle his lap in order to wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. Javi returns the hug, but is disarmed.

"When you say that you don't deserve me? I need you to know that's not true. If anything, I feel like I don't deserve you," you suddenly confide.

It floors him, but he finds he has no words, so he squeezes you lovingly and nuzzles your shoulder. "You…you always make me feel safe, and are always putting up with me, risking yourself…protecting me. I just…I don't know how to be that for you. I want to make you feel exactly how you make me feel," is your charged whisper, emotion cracking your voice as you pour your heart out to him. You want to tell him that when he held you last night, you'd found peace and known you wouldn't be able to find that ever again outside of his arms. But, you don't. Instead, you decide to sum it up differently.

"You're the love of my life. I need you to know that, Javi."

When you say this, you lean back to gaze into his handsome features, and feel overcome with how open and awed his soulfully crinkled brown eyes are, lips soft and parted in wonder. As if what you've said is unlike anything he's ever heard, let alone been told.

He cups your cheek then, fingertips brushing your skin as he composes himself to find the answer he feels imperatively he needs to convey to you in order to emphasize how fulfilled he feels in this moment with you.

"I know," he blurts, and then feels ridiculously flustered as he scoffs, "Fuck, no, that wasn't what I was going to say. I meant—I wanted to say," he pauses when your expression softens into a dazzling smile and your eyes crest with affection. "You make me feel like I'm fucking worthy, querida. Don't ever think you don't do the same for me." Your eyes soften, and Javi feels compelled to kiss you with the longing and amorous pride you've stoked in him before he rests his forehead against yours and murmurs, "I love you so much. All I want is to be with you, and I need you to know that."

You laugh, nodding affectionately as you kiss him indulgently, nuzzling his neck when he pulls you into an adoring hug.

Feeling settled and at peace, you both get on with your morning routine. You shower, have a quickie against the tiled wall under the warm water, rinse off the post-coital debauchery and soap, then hustle to get ready so you can grab your things and head down to your car. Javi tosses the bags with the laundry for doing at his place later into the backseat, and hops in while you store the bag with the remaining fruit behind the driver's seat.

He snags an orange out of the bag and proceeds to peel it with his dexterous thumbs, separating it into two halves before shooting you an affectionate, albeit smug look as he holds them up and drawls, "Eres mi media naranja, preciosa."

You can't help the silly and beaming smile you shoot his way. "Oh my god, you're such a dork for saying that! What a line—"

"It's a good one because it's true," he puckishly rumbles and winks, smirking when you scoff sardonically at him. "You love it," is his confident purr as he keeps peeling the orange, easily separating the quarters and removing the wedges before sharing one with you.

Taking the wedge, you shoot him a flirty glance before purring, "Yes, I suppose I do, mi cariñito," and then savoring the citrus treat with a hum of delight, relishing how his brown eyes light up at the novel, sweet endearment.

It's an effortlessly romantic way to spend the morning in traffic together.

Once you've dropped him off at the spot where he parked his car at the airport, you wait for him to get in and pull out so you can both drive on to the embassy. You manage to arrive and park at different ends of the underground garage, and take the elevator up together. The citrus scent that clings to both your fingers is the only giveaway that you and Javi are anything but professional. And while you're alone as you both ride up together, you and Javi had agreed to be very careful at work – lest you give more petty and vindictive ammunition for the likes of the CIA station chief to exploit.

"Coffee date later?" you propose flirtatiously in a cool murmur, smiling when he hums in temptation next to you. "I can bring them up to your office, using finishing our status report as an excuse for popping in," is your cajoling lilt, winking at him.

Javi nods just as the elevator arrives at your floor. "Sound like a plan, directora."

You have to check yourself in not giving into the impulse of leaning in for a kiss when the door slides open. Quelling the desire, you saunter off the elevator on your kitten heels and offer him a musing, "Buen día, Agente Peña."

He internally groans, wishing he could've kissed you, and hits the button to close the elevator doors.

Your morning is hectic, but pleasant, as you catch up on things and meet with Ellis. He peppers you with questions about your week off, and you give him the light version – having spoken with Javi prior and decided that you both would keep everything that happened in Medellín private.

It's easy to put it behind you and pretend it had been some strange event involving some other version of you. So, you do, and continue on with your day, and by the time your coffee date time rolls around, you take two cups of freshly-brewed deliciousness up to the DEA's department and greet Stoddard warmly as you pass his desk and enter when Javi waves you in while he wraps up a call. You hand him a cup and sit across from him as he hangs up the phone and huffs.

"Bad news?" you ask before sipping from your cup.

"Just my guys giving me an update from Cali," he mutters before taking a sip and sighing contentedly as the caffeine gives him pep. "All caught up yet?"

"Pretty much. The linkups are running smoothly, and stateside might actually get their half of the work done end of week," you remark affably and give him the latest scoop on his team you got from Ellis. "—By the way," you muse and lower your voice as you confide, "So, he had that talking to with Devon while I was out. Turns out there might be some sparks flying for real between him and, Noreen, was it?"

"Shit, really?" Javier chuckles and leans into his desk chair. "Well, if that's the case, they both gotta go up to HR and disclose that, right?" is his smug drawl as he quirks his brows derisively at you, in silent suggestion of, 'Like you and I will, eventually?'

You purse your lips with amusement and shrug aloofly. "They should, but I think we'd end up having to get pulled in to be made aware of it…which we already are, but still. I'm not going to force the issue. Technically there's no conflict, or inappropriate disparity in power dynamics between them—"

"But they should disclose it if it's getting serious," Javi counters, drinking from his cup as his coffee-brewed eyes squint at you.

"Well, if you're going to insist on it, then I'll have to as well," you retort and cross your legs so you can place the cup to rest on your pencil-skirt-clad thigh as you swish it languidly and eye him thoughtfully.

"Hmm, let's play it by ear, then," Javi muses, smiling when you both shoot each other dueling knowing looks, before his phone rings again, forcing him to reluctantly sit up to grab for it as he states, "I gotta take this," then lowers his voice to murmur, "See you at home later?"

Nodding, you purr, "I'll be there, doing laundry," and bounce your brows, which makes him snicker and shake his head while you stand and offer him a wave as you strut out of his office onto your next meeting.

He watches you go, and makes a mental note to do a stop upstairs to the HR department as he answers the phone and gets more tedious reports.

One you've returned to your floor and walked across the workspace towards your office, you are internally beaming with all the things you're looking forward to doing the rest of the week in preparation for the wedding. You feel light and hopeful, and can't help succumb to some of the giddy glee that fizzles up in your chest as you picture being able to pounce on Javi later tonight, when you walk into your office and halt dead in your tracks.

On your desk is an inconspicuous-yet-totally-out-of-place bottle of Postobón.

The cold anxiety that curls in your chest and makes you fidget as you coax your mind back from the precipice of recollecting the kidnapping, the dream, and the terror that had zipped into your bloodstream at the barrage of sense-memory recall, is daunting, and you only manage it as you go on autopilot. You feel yourself walk into the office, shut the door, and approach the desk, staring at the bottle of Colombian kola that's the same flavor as the one your captor – Navegante – had given you to drink while you'd been blindfolded and sat in the back of the car he and the other two Cali-affiliated men had abducted you into.

It's only when your frenzied gaze focuses in on the bottle more keenly that you notice the yellow sticky note attached to the bottle's front label. Picking it up and reading the message without removing the note, you feel ice fill your veins.

HOPE YOU HAD A NICE TRIP. NO HARD FEELINGS.

You absorb that. Letting the message echo in your mind, and the more you repeat it, the more it takes on the voice of Bill Stechner – the way you think he'd enunciate it with that smarmy, conceit-filled tenor of his. And then something that had been left to flounder in the recesses of your thoughts springs up into the forefront of your methodically angry mind.

"No need to worry. We know who your father is thanks to your buddy…"

With cold calm, you sit at your desk, retrieve your purse, and sift into a slip pocket for the card you'd tucked away.

After you make the call, you open your bottom desk drawer and place the glass soda bottle onto its side over a stack of empty folders before you shut it and sit back to recline in thought.

Analyzing and strategizing your options, you resolve on the one you believe will net the desired result, and bring you the most satisfaction, before you retrieve Francesca's laptop from the opposite drawer and begin doing some painstaking work.

Work that – if successful – will make it possible for you to keep a promise you've made to yourself and Javi.

No hard feelings. No. No feelings at all.

The endeavor is one you will keep close to the vest, intent on resolving things once and for all, putting it into motion and biding your time for the right moment.

Said moment won't come soon enough for you, but when it comes, it will be at a time you find yourself reevaluating everything that ever mattered to you, and deciding on an unexpected path forward that will redefine the planned course of your life.

________________

Read Chapter 34: Worthy

Spanish-English Glossary:

El guapo descarado = The handsome cad

Huevos pericos = Colombian breakfast dish of scrambled eggs with scallions, onions, peppers, and tomatoes

Cafetera = Coffee kettle

Harinas = Flours

Abuela/'Buela = Grandmother; short for 'Grandma'

Lindita = little cutie; pretty little girl

Buenos días = Good morning

Suavón = Smooth talker; Smooth guy

Mijo = short for "mi hijo", a term of endearment akin to "my son/sonny"

Malvadito/malvadita = Wicked little boy; wicked little girl

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Jodón = Pain in the ass (male)

Bravita= Tough girl; feisty girl

Mija = Short for mi hija, aka my daughter; my girl

Comadre = Endearment showing familiarity with a same-aged woman; Godmother; Sister-in-law

Buñuelos = Cheesy fritters; doughy puffs

Anillo = Ring

Querida = Affectionate term for a female, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Viandas = Root vegetables

Fincas = Rural properties; grow plots

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Mi amor = My love

Mi corazón = My heart; affectionate term to signify how deeply you love someone

Hermosa/hermoso = beautiful (female); beautiful (male)

Prima = Cousin (female)

Ándale, gatita = Go on/Hop to it, little kitten

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Cristo amado = Christ beloved

Burlona = Joker (female)

Gruñón = Grumpy man

Galán = handsome man

Canela = Cinnamon

Mi niña = My girl; sweetie

¡Me vas a hacer chocar! = You're going to make me crash!'

Tan pinche chingona = Such a fucking badass lady

Naranjas = Oranges

Toronjas = Grapefruits

Granadillas = Similar to passion fruit

Si un día se casa mi niña vestida de, blanco armiño recordare que soñaba con, que al nacer fuera un niño, por eso rezo y le pido al señor del gran poder, que el hombre que se la lleve la sepa siempre querer... = If one day my girl gets married in a ermine white dress, I'll remember that I dreamed to have a boy, so I'll ask the Lord and pray for, that the man that takes her away always loves her...

Mueca = Making a face; silly grimace

Tan chulo = Such a sweet little cutie (male)

Mi rey = My king

Mi beyaquito = My little naughty perv

Te adoro, mi amor. No te merezco = I adore you, my love. I don't deserve you

Eres el amor de mi vida = You're the love of my life

Que rica = How delicious [you are] (female)

Señorita = little lady

Eres mi media naranja, preciosa = You're my other half, sweetheart

Mi cariñito = My sweet little darling

Directora = Director (female)

Buen día, Agente Peña = Good day, Agent Peña

The song referenced and translated above is "Mi Niña Bonita" by Vicente Fernández.

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

#Heat - Narcos fanfic #Javier Peña #Javi Peña #Javi x Querida #Narcos #Javi Pena #Javi Pena Narcos #Javi Pena fan fiction #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters #Javi Peña fan fiction #Javier Peña fan fiction #Narcos fan fiction #Javi Peña x Latina OFC

[w-i-m-p]

Visit

Thank you for your visit on the night of June 3rd, 211 days… I wonder if that’s significant. I’m so grateful that you could find us after the move. I was so worried. I love you.

The dreams was so mundane but… I would take any old mundane over the harsh reality that you’re gone. I was always so jealous that you went to see Mama so many times. Maybe she needed it more? To ground her in this reality and to verify that what we did was the right thing to do… I just chalked it up to the fact that I wasn’t ready. That maybe… maybe you didn’t visit me to save me more despair. But after we fully moved in… not even a full week afterwards, you came to tell me you found me. I miss you my sweet boy. I still cry from time to time, but don’t worry. It’s just because of how much I love you. I hope you’re doing well, making friends, updating your uncle about his two daughters maybe, eating roast pork and grilled cheese, chasing all the squirrels. Maybe you even caught up to them and made them into your buddies.

Ever since you came here, I noticed that my thoughts of you aren’t as painful. Like I said… I still cry but my refractory time is longer. We all miss you. Mama’s thinking about getting another puppy. If we do, it’s not to replace you okay? It’s so that your sister is not so lonely. She’s growing up so fast. I wish that I could have loved you the right way from the beginning. I wish I could have shown you how good I can be. I’m sorry my sweet boy. We love you and we’ll never not think of you fondly and of how much you did for our little family. See you soon okay? Don’t be a stranger. But have fun and enjoy yourself.

My first dream with him after it happened, on June 3rd, 2023

I was traveling to South Korea but it seemed like Los Angeles. I was with some family at my old apartment. Boomer and Luna were doing pretty well. Not like when he was young but definitely before syringing him food and water. We were all joking about stuff like everything was normal. I walked Boo and he was still pulling on the leash like he was looking for a squirrel. Later he was sleeping and then he woke up to immediately poop so I just held my hands under his butt and carried it over to the toilet. There were some red blotches in the poop so I asked you if someone could check if it was blood. I flushed it. And I felt the urge to tell my grad schoolmates that he made a full recovery. That 11/4 never happened and he was all good so far.

Postscript.

As I was showering.. flashes came into my mind of all the little moments I wish we could have had. Running around us while we’re taking care of the lawn. Playing tag with your sister. Using the turf (who am I kidding, you wouldn’t have used it lol). Running up and down the halls when you hear crinkling plastic. Sun bathing in the living rooms (if your sister hadn’t marked it yet). Sitting in the restroom with us. Chasing the squirrels around. Getting scared by/scaring the neighborhood cats. Taking a walk to your favorite auntie’s house.

But then I have to live with the reality that if you were still here… you wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of it. Mama would have been VERY overworked. And very tired.

Then… I think about all the what-ifs…

What if we caught it sooner?

What if I was compliant with the medication for you?

What if we opted for the surgery?

What if I went to school earlier?

What if I decided to stay home and take care of you?

What if I helped out more at the wedding?

What if we didn’t stall on getting the venue?

What if I proposed earlier?

What if we started looking for a house earlier?

What if we saved more aggressively?

What if…?

What if.

The only thing I can sit in comfort knowing is that we spared no expense and we focused on your comfort (maybe less so in the end, but we were sleep deprived and weren’t ready to say our goodbyes… sorry =\)

#grief #pet loss #boomer #mourning #what if

[lillykayewrites]

CHANGE ME CHAPTER ONE:

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1279

Hi guys! This is Chapter one of CHANGE ME! I’m so excited to share this with ya’ll and if you want to see where I write, follow me on wattpad @myrealities_

I also will post songs along with the chapters that fit the story! I really hope you enjoy!🤍

Hurricane, Utah...the open land of deserts, mountains, and clean, fresh air. Also, where I have officially arrived, after nineteen long and treacherous hours of non-stop driving, the only exceptions being stops for gas and an occasional restroom break.

I cracked my neck as I listened to my music blaring through the speakers, bobbing my head to the beat as I passed a large, brown sign that said...in bold, "Welcome To Hurricane". Grinning from ear to ear, I eagerly, and not-so-lightly, stepped on the gas as I floored past.

    I was sick of driving, and rightfully so. I had been driving for nineteen hours and my tailbone was to the point of being numb to the touch. But, I continued the drive for another thirty minutes before I pulled into an older but polite-looking apartment complex. I examined it out my window and my excitement came right back.

   This is where I would be living officially for the first time by myself. Even in college, I still lived at home so this was a brand-new experience.

The complex was a nice and humble cream color. The brick walls made it take on more of a vintage look and the mahogany rafters added to the unique and eclectic feel.

  Along with the niceness of the place, I expected to pay a pretty penny for it, but surprisingly, for as small the town is, rent in these complexes isn't that high. Unless I'm some blubbering tourist in the gift shops downtown so I didn't need to worry about breaking my bank account.

  Overall, it seemed like a good place to stay! I was near society with things like restaurants and shopping, but just 10 miles out, I would be surrounded by a state park.

Without another thought, I pulled myself out of the car and took a long deep breath. The air was dry and the early summer sun enveloped my body with a comforting warmth. A warmth that spread throughout my body and made my eyes feel heavy like they were coming from a blanket fresh from the dryer.

Texas sure didn't feel like this...

"God. That was too long. Way too long to be in a damn vehicle..." I muttered to myself popping my back as I slammed the door of my car shut.

    I went to the main building of the complex and got the key to my apartment. I was happy and relieved to hear that I lived on the first floor, instead of trying to haul my belongings upstairs that I was sure to fall and die on.

I made my way to the building I was going to be staying in and got to the front door.

Standing there for a moment, this newfound anxiety washed over my body like a tidal wave. Sighing, I shook off the feeling and turned the key. It unlocked non-surprisingly and with concealed excitement, I opened the door.

It was dark. All the lights were off and everything was still.

I turned on the living room light and breathed in the stale, stagnant air of the room.

Looking around, I had my living room, which was just more of a chair and tv spot, and across from that, was my kitchen. It was small, but I didn't need much since it was just me there. I had room for my table and a nook for a small pantry. Moving down the hall, was a door that led to my washer and dryer. But alas; at the end of the hall, was my room.

   It was the largest room in the entire apartment. It was the size of my living room and kitchen combined. In the center of it though, was my bed I hired movers to set it up before I arrived since I had no room for the large piece of furniture in my car.

Along with my bed, my dresser was already placed on the opposite side of the room, and my bedside table sat in the corner waiting to be moved along with four or so boxes.

Now your probably wondering where my bathroom is...

Connected to the right of my bedroom, was a decent-sized bathroom as well. With a normal sink, shower, and toilet, it was nothing special but there was no reason for me to have an extravagant bathroom.

   Once I was done examining my new living quarters, I went back to my car to bring in the rest of my boxes. As I grabbed one, a somewhat large, older woman from her patio called for my attention,

"Now I'd know Id recognize a young pretty face if I'd seen it...yours is new...what brings you?" She asked with a raspy laugh as she took a hit from her cigarette.

Taken aback by the sudden question, and kinda being put on the spot, I set my box down and placed my hand on my hips squinting up at the setting sun,

"Well, ma'am... I guess you could say I'm looking for something... along with time away from things back home, and maybes find answers to some questions I have." I said with a smile.

The woman nodded her head slowly in approval, taking one last final drag from her cigarette before stomping it out. "You got some deep words Ms."

I chuckled at her response and looked down at my feet,

"Ha, well thank you ...it was nice to meet you, ma'am, my name is Y/N the way! If you ever need anything my door is open!" I said genuinely.

A sharp bark of laughter erupted from the woman as she waved me off and shakily stood up from her lawn chair,

"Thanks, sweets. Names Pat, and same to you." She said as she hobbled back inside without another word or a glance back.

With a sigh of, 'I guess that's my new normal', I picked up my box and brought it inside.

    Once I was done unloading, I began to move around my furniture and set up my bed.

   As I finished, I laid flat on my back like a starfish with all my empty boxes sprawled out around me beginning to feel the tiredness in my body.

I picked up my phone lazily and looked at the time. It was 12:42 am. Closing my eyes I let out a groan of exhaustion. I was so caught up in unpacking, I had lost track of time. I had been up for almost 24 hours at this point and hadn't eaten in 14 of those hours. So grabbing some clothes, and putting them on my bathroom counter, I jumped in the shower and washed off all the sweat and grime from the long day's work.

    Once I was done, I brushed my teeth and jumped into bed forgetting about my underlying hunger.

At this point, I was too tired to care.

No.

I was utterly exhausted...

and the best feeling was to lay in my freshly made bed, in my new apartment, in Utah.

Yep. It was a drastic change but... I was okay with that.

I was ready.

As I lay there, my eyes grew heavier and heavier and the only thing I could think about before losing consciousness was,

'I was here. I was in Hurricane.'

I really hope you enjoyed! I’ll be posting pt. 2 soon!

#fnaf fandom #fnaf #william afton #fnaf security breach #Spotify

[metrogaragedoorrepairllctx]

Garland's Best Picnic Spots

Ah, the picnic. What better way to enjoy a sunny afternoon than with a spread of food and friends? We recently published an article about the best places to have a picnic in Dallas and loved it so much that we decided to do one for Garland as well!

Duck Creek

Duck Creek is a tributary of the Trinity River. It runs through Garland and Dallas, starting at White Rock Lake and flowing south until it meets up with the Trinity River.

The area is popular among swimmers and fishers, who have flocked to the creek since it opened in 2014. The Texas Department of Transportation has installed a kayak launch for those wishing to paddle down the creek’s waters.

Katy Railroad Park

The Katy Trail is a popular walking and biking trail that cuts through Garland's downtown area. The Katy Railroad Park is located on this trail, and it's a great place to stop when you want to take a break from your journey.

The park has picnic tables, so you can eat lunch here. There's also a playground for kids to play in while their parents relax under one of the many trees in the area. A walking trail runs through the park, so if you're looking for some exercise on your trip, this is an ideal spot—though there are plenty of spots along the tracks where people have stopped off for something like picnicking or just hanging out with friends.

In addition to these amenities at this particular location, there are several other areas along the track where you can find similar things (though perhaps not quite as large). These include:

Heritage Park (1700 West 2nd Street)

Bois D' Arc Creek Nature Preserve (3200 North Central Expressway)

Johnson Park

Johnson Park is located right next to the Garland Public Library, at 4th Street and South 6th Avenue. Featuring several picnic tables and a playground, you'll find plenty of places to sit down and enjoy your lunch while watching the children play.

The park has been around since 1931, when it was named after William H. Johnson—a member of the city council who helped secure funding for its construction. The original design included a bandstand that has since been demolished but an old water tower still remains as a reminder of Garland's past.

Johnson Park is open from sunrise until 10:00 p.m., year-round, but if you want to stay longer than two hours you will need to contact Garland Parks & Recreation first (972-205-2980). Parking is free in any non-reserved spaces on street parking or in the adjacent lot at the corner of 3rd Street and 6th Avenue across from City Hall

Manors on Miller

Manors on Miller is a gated community in Garland with a pool, tennis courts, and clubhouse. It's located in the middle of a neighborhood where there are lots of trees, lots of families, and lots of kids. The residents are very friendly and welcoming to visitors. If you're looking for a place to spend the day with your family or friends while enjoying some sunshine with some shade thrown in as well—then this might be the best picnic spot for you!

There are a lot of great places to have a picnic in Garland.

There are a lot of great places to have a picnic in Garland. The city is home to more than 400 parks and several of them include picnic areas. All of the parks are open from sunrise to sunset, and most have playgrounds, restrooms and water fountains for visitors.

The award-winning Garland Parks & Recreation Department oversees these facilities so you can rest assured that they'll be clean, well maintained and safe for you and your family.

We hope that this guide has helped you discover some new places to picnic in Garland. If you have any questions or comments, please share them with us in the comment section below! We’d love to hear from you.

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[drakenology]

www.pornscape.com/janitors-closet-kirishima

janitor’s closet - kirishima x reader

categories: cunnilingus, blow job, riding, exhibitionism, slight degradation, unprotected sex, cussing, cervix kissin’, nasty hook up in the janitor’s closet.

author’s note: welcome to the pornscape! i hope you guys enjoy this event and this piece as well. please check out the others who have participated and as always, cum again ;). read the other works here

Hanamura Corp; a place known for legitimate business. Every employee including yourself was very capable of their job and it was wonderful to be a part of. But God was it fucking boring. Everyone there just ignored each other, did their job and clocked out once their shift was done and over with. With the exception of a few women you’d talk to around break time,  The entire building was often so quiet you forgot other people worked there.

One thing that made your job a little bit exciting was the escapades that took place every Wednesday in the janitor’s closet. The janitor who worked mostly Wednesdays was quite possibly the most gorgeous man to walk those halls.

Ejiro Kirishima; a sweetheart who worked as a janitor here at Hanamura Corp for a few years now. What he was doing working as a janitor and as not a male model was a mystery.

He was tall; 6′11 to be exact, with long red hair he often had tied back in a messy bun, strands of his hair cheekily escaping from the sides. Not to mention his body. Eijiro was an absolute beast of a man; his entire body was ripped. His arms were gigantic and covered in tattoos. The women of the facility often gossiped about the ginormous janitor who came by their cubicles with a warm smile and a tip of his cap. 

“God, he’s so sexy. I’d like to just jump his fucking bones.”

“I wonder what he’s like in bed. Probably an insatiable beast.”

“I just know his dick is huge. Fuck, I can only imagine.”

She guessed right. His dick is huge. How do you know that? Because you’re the one fucking him in the Janitor’s closet every so often. Every Wednesday when he worked, he’d walk past your cubicle and tap you on the shoulder. You’d turn and practically drool at the sight of him, knowing that in a few hours you’d be getting railed until you can hardly walk back to your desk. How this became so routine? Hell, you’ve long since forgotten. But who gives a fuck about the details?

“See you at noon?” He’d whisper in your ear, chuckling when you nod meekly. 12 o’clock was the time everyone usually took their lunch break which had proven to be the perfect time to get fucked on the job.

Once the clock struck 12, you slide your panties off under your desk and tuck them in your briefcase, a rule set by Kirishima to ensure that your cunt is exposed and ready for his filling. You walk towards the janitor’s closet; the one next to the women’s room and stand there to wait, awkwardly waving at the women who came out of the restroom with a weird stare. Suddenly the door opens and someone pulls you inside. 

Finally. He kissed you hard, his big stern hands grabbing and caressing your ass as if he owned you and everything attached to you. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist when he lifts you and pins you against the cold steel supply shelf. “Miss me, gorgeous?” Kirishima asks, his lips ghosting over yours as he hikes your skirt up over your ass, biting his lip when he feels you’re completely bare underneath. 

“You’re such a little slut for me, taking your panties off to come and get fucked in the janitor’s closet.” He starts kissing your neck, nibbling slightly to mark you just a little; he can’t help himself. 

You’re already getting so hot, your slick pooling at his fingertips as they run along your folds. He stands you on your feet and turns you around, getting down on his knees to worship your ass. His hands slap each cheek firmly, causing you to flinch and lean into the wall, ass sticking out for him. 

Before you can speak, his hands spread your ass apart, spitting onto your pussy. His tongue starts lapping up your slick folds as his hands squeeze your ass, your nails digging into your palms as you groan into your sleeves. You’re mewling so much you could swear someone could hear you, Kirishima’s thick fingers now sliding inside you while he stands on his feet. 

“Gotta get that tight cunt ready for me, baby. You like that?” He huffs into your hair, pumping his fingers inside you at a slow pace. You nod as you back your hips into his hand, Kirishima grabbing one hip to keep you still. 

“So eager. Stay still would, ya?” Kirishima taunts, speeding up his fingers as he smacked you ass to scold you. You yelp, the sting from the hit fading into blinding pleasure as he fingered you, your cunt squelching and making obscene  noises as you feel your legs turn to pudding. 

“Kiri I c-can’t, you’re gonna make me c-cum!” You whine, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“That’s the idea. Mm, cum all over my fucking fingers.” He urged, his fingers diving deeper into your greedy walls, your cunt sucking him inside as you cum with a hard clench. Kirishima smirked and pulled his fingers out of you, sticking them into his mouth with a moan at your flavor. 

“Good fuckin’ girl. On your knees.” He demands, pointing towards the floor. You obliged, moaning when you see him take his cock out of his uniform pants. Good lord, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing it in all its glory.

He was impossibly thick and long, prominent veins running along the shaft and a perfectly soft and spongey head; the one that kissed your cervix with every thrust. You open your mouth for him, tongue lolling out as he sticks his cock inside. Your lips wrap around him, moaning at the taste of his skin as you bob your head. Kirishima takes a fistful of your hair and fucks your throat, hissing when you gag and drool all over his cock. Your hands start grabbing at your breasts, unbuttoning your top to pull them outside of your bra. 

“God, look at you..” Kirishima groans, you giggling when he pulls you off his cock with a lewd “pop” sound. “Such a dirty girl.” Kirishima takes his thick cock and slaps it against your wet lips, pressing between them to get your mouth open again. Sucking him off got you so wet; the sounds of slurping and gagging. All of his dirty words laced with pleasurable grunts stirred your insides as your cunt ached with need.

Every time his cock hit the back of your throat you moan, reaching your hand down to help relieve the ache in your core. 

“Shit..” Eijiro moans at the state of you, a usually prim and proper business woman on her knees for him looking so fucking sloppy. 

It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, taking his hand to pinch and play with your nipples as you suckle on his dick head, taking it and slapping it against your tongue with a love struck look in your eye.

He burned that image of you in his mind, wanting to revisit this moment later when he was alone while bucking his hips to get you to wrap those soft lips around his cock again. Your fingers rub lazy circles on your swollen clit, moaning around his dick as he fucked your mouth. 

“So fucking sexy, baby.” He hissed, pulling his cock from your lips and sitting on his haunches. 

“C’mere.” He demands, slapping his thighs to get you to sit in his lap. You straddle his waist, his length resting on your slick cunt. He grinds your hips against his, the under side of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit with a groan. Kirishima lowers his hand and gives you the filling you’ve been craving all week, pressing his length against your weeping hole and pulling your hips down onto his length. 

The dull stretch caused you to grab onto his shoulders and hold tight, bouncing on his cock slowly to adjust to his monster of a cock. It was all so delicious; Kiri running his thumb along your swollen bud with a satisfied grunt. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming already, Eiji- shit!” You wail, breathy moans leaving your lips as he ruts his hips upwards, one of his big hands grabbing at your breast, the other rubbing your clit in soft circles. 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby..” He groans, rolling your hips into his as his hands run along your soft ass, striking it harshly. You’re drooling into his shoulder, holding onto the shelf that contained cleaning supplies for good measure, trying to keep up with his movements. With all the shaking, all the cleaning products started toppling over, loud clangs of the metal shelf echoing through the small closet to mask your loud moans. 

You both let out breathy half giggles, melting into each other’s bodies as Kirishima reached up to wrap your hair around his hand to yank it, attacking your now exposed neck with hot kisses and nibbles. He stands on his feet, fingers pressed into your ass to keep a tight grip on you as he lowered you onto his cock. You see stars as Eijiro picks you up and drops you onto his thick cock, scrambled sentences leaving your mouth as your mouth hangs open in bliss.

Kirishima kicks over a bucket, the stupid thing in his path as he pressed your bare back against the cold concrete wall. He rolls his hip into yours, lips wrapped around one of your nipples, nibbling lightly. Grunting and high pitched whines fill the closet, your bodies practically sticking together from the heat you both omitted. Tongues intertwined with each other, hands traveling along naked skin as he hit your g-spot over and over again in a blind rage. 

“F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum for you, baby.” you squeal, toes curling so hard you feel a cramp coming on; Kirishima bucking into with more fervor as you both reach a climax. 

“’M gonna cum inside you. Gonna make you my fuckin’ cum dump.” He huffed, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with every hit against your cervix. 

You both grunt; Kirishima painting your insides white as he rests you both onto the floor, grinding his hips a few more times before pulling out his flaccid form. Your back laid flat on the cold floor, looking up at him with clouded eyes from all the tears you shed from your encounter. Sex with Kirishima made working at this stuffy place so much more worth it. As he looked down at you he helped fix your clothes, the timer on his watch beeping to signal it was time to get back to work. 

“Ya know, we don’t have to wait to see each other once a week. I could fuck you like this every day, every night...” Eijiro said, wiping the sweat from your brow. 

“Are you asking me out?” You tease, sitting up to button up your shirt.

“Depends.. are you saying yes?” He asks, raising his eyebrow as he adjusts his pants.

“Maybe.”

#bnha smut #bnha kirishima #kirishima smut #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha kirishima smut #bnha kirishima x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha izuku #bnha izuku smut #the pornscape 💗

[zealoushound]

My Hero

Summary: You and Kal have a movie night!

Pairing: Henry x reader, Kal & reader

Word Count: 1,300

Warnings: RPF All fluff! Scary movie, mentions of horror movie monsters.

A/N: @iaalien asked for more Kal content so of course I had to provide! Hope you enjoy it babe!

Disclaimer: This is purely fictional. I don’t own Henry Cavill or Kal, which is really sad if you think about it. Do not copy any part of my material to use as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.

(pic from @kalcavill-fanblog)

***

You only started watching this because your best friend, who had just finished it, told you it was such a good movie. You had wanted to wait, and watch it while Henry was home so you wouldn’t be as scared, but he was away for the weekend on business and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow night.

Against your better judgement, you decided not to wait on his return. Patience never had been your strong suit. You settled in on the couch beside Kal, who had stayed behind instead of going Henry.

Albeit, a considerably hairier replacement, Kal makes the perfect movie companion. He never complains about watching a chick flick, makes you watch any boring documentaries or hogs the popcorn like his human counterpart. Pulling your blanket up for extra security, you wrapped an arm around the gentle giant to your left and hit play.

Thirty minutes later you had gotten so interested in the movie that you were on the edge of the couch, unable to look away even as it got scarier, and scarier. With widened eyes, you leaned closer as if somehow leaning forward would help you see what was coming.

“Oh, Kal! This is too scary.” Putting your hand over your heart, “how did I let you talk me into this?” Looking away for a send to glance at your furry companion. Kal looked up at you, giving you a little head tilt.

Something crashed down then a loud scream ripped out of the television. “OH! No. I’m turning this off!” You said defiantly as someone was killed on screen.

As you were picking up the remote again someone else came into view on screen. “Oh, don’t go in there! Don’t do it!” You looked down at Kal, “She’s about to get it!” You stated matter of factly. Kal’s tongue lolled out of his happy mouth as you scratched his head, more for yourself than him. Touching him grounded you in the present. You weren’t as scared then. It also helped that touching, petting, playing with him made you feel closer to Henry.

As you looked back, the killer jumped out at the woman on screen. “Ahha! See! I told you! I gotta turn this off before I pee my pants.” You paused it. “Ok, a quick bathroom break and then we’ll restart... maybe.” You were a glutton for punishment, of course you’d come back! “I’ll be right back buddy.” You patted Kal on the side as you got up to run to the bathroom.

Opening the door you looked down, “Honey you didn't have to get up!” Of course Kal had followed you down the hall to the restroom. “Come on, baby boy, let's finish this.” You wiped your clean hands off on your pants. I’ll get you some snacks. How about that, huh? Yeah, is that my good boy? Yes sir, you are!” Kal pranced around loving all the praises from his mumma, as Henry had begun calling you.

You pulled a few Milk Bones out of the box in the kitchen, tossing one to him as he caught it midair. “Good boy!” You exclaimed excitedly. He crunched on it all the way back into the living room as you resettled onto the couch with your favorite pillow, just in case you needed to cover your eyes.

Kal hops up right next to you letting you drape an arm over him again while you rub the soft, fluffy fur on his chest. “Ok, now. Where were we?” You hit play, jumping right back into the story. Kal eyes the treats in your other hand. Seeing him in your peripheral vision, you put the bone shaped treat out in front of him for him to take from your hand while not looking away from the film.

Forty five minutes later, you’re so involved in the twisted story you don’t even realize that you’ve sunk down so much that you’re all but lying on Kal. He’s raised up, but still seated beside you, sensing the fear in you and keeping a vigilant eye on the monsters that intend to do you harm.

“Oooohhh nooooo,” you whisper, hiding your face in Kal’s fur as the music begins to swell. Henry cautiously walks into the living room, then stands perfectly still, watching you quietly. He’s careful not to make a sound; convinced that he would frighten you to death if he so much as breathed too loudly right now.

Just as you look up from your furry shield the beast leaps into view, growling, snarling, covered in carnage, looking like something straight out of your worst nightmare. You jump a foot off the couch, and let out a terrified scream. Kal springs into action.

He’s instantly up off the couch, and down to stand in front of the tv. Feet planted, ready to attack, fur bristled, growling at the beast that scared his mama so badly that she’s crying now.

He begins to bark until Henry’s soft soothing voice picks up from the kitchen behind him. “Easy boy, good boy. Relax buddy.” Kal backs down, walking over to see his dad. “That’s a good boy. Good work protecting mama like that.”

You’ve huddled into yourself, crying on the pillow waiting for the coast to be clear so you can dive on the remote, and turn the tv off. Then suddenly you hear Henry’s voice behind you. He’s home early. Oh, thank God!

Henry walks around the couch with your scary movie partner-in-crime following close behind him. He sits down behind you. Kal comes to check on you sitting beside the couch, watching you intently.

Henry picks up the remote, looking at you while he holds his hand up to point it to the tv as he turns it off. You’re still hiding behind the pillow you’d grabbed earlier, taking in the blissful silence that falls as soon as he shut off the tv. See? You knew you’d need that pillow.

“You ok?” Henry asks quietly, running his huge, warm hand up your thigh, his fingertips resting just underneath the hem of the shorts you’re wearing.

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “I’m sorry.” You sit up, sniffling. Your face red, and streaked with tears. You only glance at him, ashamed of how he’d found you.

“Why are you sorry, my love?” He opens his arms for you. You pounce on him like if you didn’t he would disappear; float away like a beautiful, soothing, dream.

“I knew better than to watch that dumb movie while you were gone.” You mumble into his soft, grey MuscleTech shirt, breathing in his scent. His scent, his arms, his voice, they always calmed you. Instantly. He had some sort of power over you, not that you would ever complain about it.

“You would have still been just as scared if I had been here.” he said, rubbing your back just the way you liked. He could have sworn he heard you purr.

“Yeah... I’m just embarrassed now though,” you spoke so softly he almost hadn’t caught that last part.

“It’s ok to be scared, darling.” He assured you.

“I know it's just... when I screamed I know I scared poor Kal.” You looked over to him sitting in between Henry’s feet.

Henry laughed. “Honey! You did not scare Kal. He was protecting you! He stood between you, and that thing! He was ready to destroy it!”

“Oh buddy, you did?” He sat up taller, and looked to be puffing out his chest like a superhero. “Oh, Kal! You’re my hero! Thank you buddy! You’re amazing, you know that?” You petted him all over while praising him. He blinked his eyes slowly, panting softly as he let his tongue wag, along with his tail! “Kal you are the BEST!” He was in absolute Heaven!

***

Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)

@foodieforthoughts @wendimydarling @littlefreya @nuggsmum @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @summersong69 @oddduckthatgirl @winter2112rose @ysmmsy @christhickevans @ladycavillry @mary-ann84 @twhstuckylover @cavills-little-princess @luclittlepond @beck07990 @eldarwen333 @littlebirdofrivia @themaskismyface @enchantedbytomandhenry @supermamabear123 @diegos-butt @atomicsoulcollecto @alexakeyloveloki @kebabgirl67 @cynic-spirit @cavillsharman @littlewrenofrivia @viking-raider @iaalien

#zealoushound writes #My Hero #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill reader #henry cavill fluff #kal cavill #kal fic #kal fluff #rpf fluff #all the fluff #it’s so fluffy #fic request

[arixwrites]

Matt Murdock x best friend!reader pt.5

A/N: We’re jumping forward in time to season 2!! I absolutely love season 2 bc of Frank. He is such an amazing character! I’m currently watching The Punisher and about to finish season 1. It’s good BUT there’s no Matt or Foggy ;( there is Karen so that’s a plus! (and Billy Russo 🤤)

I really just wanted to write some Frank Castle and hopefully include him more in the future. Next part will be a lot longer and way juicier!! 😈 Let me know of any mistakes! I'll be posting pt.6 very soon, like today. I've had it done for a while just need to look it over one last time.

*Thoughts are shown in bold

Anyway hope you enjoy this lil thing! 💜

Word Count: 776

After Grotto collapsed on the floor of Josie’s, You, Karen, and Foggy moved him into the backseat of Karen’s car (before setting a towel down of course). You all figured since Grotto didn’t have money to pay for Nelson, Y/L/N, & Murdock’s services, he probably also couldn’t afford a trip to the hospital in an ambulance. So, you and Karen were now on your way to Metro-General Hospital, with you in the backseat keeping pressure against the wound on Grotto’s side.

After hearing Grotto’s information, Matt was itching to get to the crime scene and figure out what happened for himself. Matt figured he would have to don his Daredevil suit sometime tonight while on the pursuit for the new player in town, so he didn’t want you following him and Foggy to the scene. He hoped you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight because he really couldn’t stand lying to you about his life as Daredevil more than he had to. Luckily for him, you volunteered to go with Karen to Metro-General to make sure Grotto was alright.

While Foggy and Matt were following their own leads in Hell’s Kitchen, You and Karen were trying to convince Grotto to calm down and stay in the hospital. Karen explained to Grotto that they had signed into the hospital under the false names Steve and Isabelle Schaffer. The story was “Steve” had been injured in a bar fight while defending “Isabelle’s” honor, and her childhood best friend, you, had driven them to the hospital.

After Grotto calmed down, he warned the two of you to leave him and save yourselves from whoever had it out for him. To which you replied, ‘Tonight, you became an official client of Nelson, Y/L/N, & Murdock and we don’t leave our clients behind.’

Meanwhile, Daredevil walked in on a disturbing scene in a meatpacking factory. What kind of animal could do this?

You excused yourself to go to the restroom after the drinks from Josie’s and the coffee you got Karen and yourself from the cafeteria went right through you. While drying your wet hands you hear a commotion coming from outside the door.

‘Hold it right there!’

You slowly open the door and come face to face with a man in all dark clothing holding a pistol. You look from his face to the gun in his hand, and finally the gun hanging on his side. You probably looked scared out of your mind, and that’s because you truly were. Whoever had been targeting the Kitchen Irish had come to finish the job but it was just one man.

Frank saw the frightened look on your face and quickly tried to correct it. He wasn’t here to cause any unnecessary harm. He was here to finish what he started and that man was right down the hall. Frank stopped and looked at you dead in the eye. His eyes softened in an attempt to convey that you weren’t in danger. He disassembled the gun at a lightning-fast speed before throwing it in the garbage next to you. You flinched and closed your eyes waiting for the impact of the bullet. You had thought he was going to use the gun against you, but the sound of the gun hitting the inside of the garbage can has you looking at him in disbelief. Great! The psycho murderer would rather slowly kill me with his bare hands than a gun. Lucky me!

‘Hey,’ Frank spoke in a soft yet somehow gravelly voice, ‘Go back inside ma’am. I’m not here to hurt you.’

The loud screams of nurses and doctors coming from down the hall as well as the security guard groaning on the floor made the statement hard to believe. However, you really had no other option. There was no way you were going to be able to run past him to get to Karen and Grotto. You just hoped they were aware of what was going on in the hospital and were already on their way out to safety. You nodded wordlessly and shut the door. You leaned up against the door and finally let out a breath. You splashed water on your face multiple times in an attempt to hold off the incoming panic attack after that possible near-death experience. You could tell he was dangerous just by the way he carried himself. He had a fierce and determined look in his eye when you saw him walking toward you, but he was able to change his expression and give you an honest comforting gaze. Was that really the man that took down the Kitchen Irish single-handedly?

Part 6

#daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #marvel fanfiction #the punisher #frank castle

[minshookie]

CEO!BTS Reaction to:

You flinching during an argument.

| !warning! | violence, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationship, yandere Bts, choking and sexual topics 18+, dubcon, oral [fem receiving & giving], strong language [Jimin has a potty mouth!!!] rough play.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

| Requested [requests open]

A/N | the amount of time I’m taking to get these request done correctly is embarrassing i apologize. I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a whole reaction and that it’s not fluffy...lmk if you’d like me to change it I certainly will.

Forgive me for mistakes, though this is edited.

Kim Seokjin...

“Ok well what was that out there?” He spoke ominously back turned to you. “I- we-.” Laughing at your lack of response, he cut you off. “You fucked up that’s what it was hun.”

“Come sit on the desk, I want to see you apologize for making me look like an idiot.” He spat the last part like it was disgusting on his tongue. Already in deep trouble you decided to follow directions for once.

Turing smoothly in his office chair, you could see the resentment in his eyes. “Go on.” You swallowed thickly, his angered glare drying your throat. “I’m sorry for....correcting you during today’s meeting.” He scoffed, “there was nothing to correct!”

“Jin you can’t always be right, if you took that agreement, you’d never hit anything close to pro-” “who’s the boss? Hm? Who’s name is on this desk you have your tight ass planted on?” Mistakingly you let your eyes roll out of pure annoyance.

“Well excuse me?!” He leans forward quickly out of his chair, causing you to fall opposite of him. Pens poke at your back, his name plaque digging into your arm. Evilly he grins in enjoyment. “Found your place yet?, you seem afraid...afraid I’d hit you?” Wide eyed you nod, trapped like a mouse under its predator. Every inch of confidence stripped as he glared deeply into you. “Good.” Before you could even process his statement, you were harshly distracted by his rough hand landing across your cheek. Your head turns the other way as your right cheek tingles and burns. Chuckling he grips your chin forcing you to look at him.

“Find your place, and if you’ve forgotten it, I can help you find it...just like that,anytime.”

Min Yoongi...

Watching in envy, you pushed miscellaneous papers into the shredder. What a bitch! You saw her watching Yoongi all day just waiting for him to go to his office. So she could prance in there, thong up her ass, low cut shirt...the works.

“Yah! Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Jumping in fear , peeking down you found out what you’ve been shredding. He shoved you to the side turning off the shredder. “All those papers we needed for next week’s evaluation and review meeting...” you looked from the shredder back to him shrugging nonchalantly. Already having Somebody in your boyfriends office flirting him into hard on, the last thing you need is more work. “We’ll go fucking print some more of them.” He demanded his face stiff. Jin never liked you, maybe you’ll have Yoongi fire him.

You walked holding the last remaining sheet fully intact for reference, did Jin really think you were going to the copy room? What a dunce. Ignoring the meeting in progress light you pushed the heavy door open. “Hey y/n I’m sorry we’re in the middle of something.” You could tell he was just laughing at something a tint of red on his cheeks. Him kicking you out...this should be the other way. This hurt. “Me?” You gasped. She turned her silky hair fanning. “Y/n when we’re done I’ll come find you Alright?” She spoke a little above a whisper.“Don’t speak to me.” You glared at her walking further into the office. Obviously she’s confused about her rightful place, and Yoongi is too.

“You, get out.” She stretched her eyes looking back and forth from you to Yoongi. “Now.” “Min you can’t let her kick me out.” She scoffed, “I’ll speak to you later alright.” He smiled warmly,She got up storming from his room. “Yoongi what exactly was that?” He sat back in his chair. “A meeting.” “A meeting with what her left tit?” He closed his eyes harshly at your vulgarity. “No a meeting with your colleague about her position.” He offers the seat in front of him, gladly you take said offer.

“But what you did was uncalled for.” Laughing he leaned forward onto the table. He beacons you to follow, leaning forward you fall right into his trap upset he gripped your face making your cheeks squish. “Don’t ever come back in my office acting this way again, understood?” Nodding the best you could. “Huh? Understood?” “Yeah!” He let go leaving a ache in his wake. Before going back he reached for you again instinctively you pull back as if he was going to strike you. “Hm, I don’t treat you that harsh but I will...keep testing me.” He finished, only coming close to fix your hair.

Kim Namjoon...

Another day held the same daily routine, wake up Joon, cook breakfast, clean get dressed and head to work, work, eat lunch in Joon’s office, work,go home, and restart.

Today Joon had lunch delivered, practically throwing his money like confetti paper, much to the delight of his employees. Both of you sat on the floor of his office, enjoying the home style take out in silence. Without noticing all your attention was being absorbed by your phone. “What’s so intriguing kitten?” Your fingers stopped in their place “just texting a friend.” You looked at him through your lashes before going back to typing. He closed his take out container, he finished his meal and sneakily proceeded onto yours. Surprised by your lack of protests he spoke again.

“Oh yeah? And whose this friend?” He mumbled still chewing. “Someone I might know?” You nodded in response, unsatisfied he got up going to wash his hands in his office restroom. “Their name would be helpful y/n.” Just from his tone alone you could tell he was nearing impatience. “He works here, I’m just helping him...explaining how the log in system works he’s locked out at the moment.”

Joon no longer cared for their name and you knew it. “Oh ‘he’?” You nodded, he came drying his hands with his initialed towels. “New guy...Choi?” You looked up fully for the first time in a while. “Yeah, Soobin.” He nodded,Sitting in his desk turning to some papers. Nothing left to say you looked back down at your massages. “I’d like you to eat though, I don’t want you going hungry.” He ordered you around like a father and you obeyed.

Chewing, you almost choked as Soobin sent a joke that you weren’t ready for. Joon raised a brow, “a funny one huh? Let me see.” He looked down at you hand out flat. Your eyes went doe, there is no way your letting Joon read this vulgar joke. Soobin would be out of a job just as quick as he got one. “C’mon let me see, don’t make me take it.” Maybe he’ll laugh about it too, you gave up the device.

At first he squinted before his eyes grew wide. “ ‘This copy machine looks like the one from those cheesy office pornos....let’s make one?’ Y/N this is who you’re waisting your time on?” Rolling your eyes you went back to your meal, annoyed he didn’t find the harmless joke amusing. “Joon he was joking, it’s not like he knows I’m dating someone.”

You felt wind brush past you and a crashing sound occurred from behind, startled you made eye contact. “I had half the mind to throw that piece of shit at your head.” His angered expression taking you aback, you must’ve forgotten Joon is the extremely jealous type. “Go get it, bring it back to me.” Slowly turning trying not to take your eye off of him, you retrieved the shattered phone. Harshly he took it from your hands. Tapping before turning it to you, “block him.” You flinched at his sudden hand movement. “Don’t flinch away from me, block the bastard, before I’m the one bending you over the copy machine.”

Jung Hoseok...

Slouching in the pool chair you observed as the other women splashed and paddled around like children. You don’t usually go to these types of things, and neither does Hoseok. But this time it was important, he was here solely to kiss butt with his new business partners.

He practically forced you to put on your swimsuit, fully planning on walking you around like a show dog for the evening. Crossing your legs you brought your straw to your lips. You’d planned on getting in the pool, but apparently you weren’t good enough for the other wives...or affairs in the pool at the moment.So to spare the embarrassment you decided to watch.

“Enjoying yourself?” Hoseok came behind you patting your head softly. “Hm I guess.” You placed your drink away. “Hobi I’m ready to go. home.” You pouted, his hand still on the chair he came to your side. “Home? We’ve just got here an hour ago.” Nodding at his true statement you turned to look at him. “Yeah...and now I’m ready to go home.” Rolling his eyes he squatted to your level. “C’mon baby, go make a friend in the pool, splash around yeah?”

“No, I’m tired.” He groaned putting his head on your shoulder. “Y/n, boo don’t be a brat, you wanna go inside, wanna find a bed for you?” “Hm will you stay with me?” He looked over his shoulder, “ah Bruce wants to talk cuts and coverage a bit more, I can show you to a ro-” “nooo hobi!”

Panicking he pinched you to lower your volume. The party in the pool ceased and all eyes were on you. You’d learned how to cheat the system,It usually didn’t take much pouting from you to get your way. “c’mon get up.” He pulled me roughly by my forearm almost making you trip over your feet. He pulled you into the spacious home, up the stairs and into a hall. “Here let’s go in this room hobi.” You could tell by the look on his face hobi didn’t come to rest.

“Do you get off on making me look like an idiot?” He spoke close to your face. “Hey, I told you i wanted-” he covered your mouth with his large hand. “I don’t give a fuck what you want, now shut up and get in that fucking room.” Meekly you followed his order. “I’m sorry hobi.” “Ah I said shut up!” You stood in the middle of the decretive room, “down.” Down on your knees before him he looked down disgusted.

“Now make my cock hard so I can teach you how to use your loud ass mouth correctly.” Hesitantly you leaned forward, he groaned loudly reaching for you making you backwards in response. “Quickly, and don’t you dare run away.” He grabbed your hair, now under his full control.

Kim Taehyung...

“Mm how does it feel being my right hand lady?”

“Well seems like I’m on top of you right now.”

“I love how smart you are baby.”

Taehyung had recently promoted you to his secretary, now you can’t help but be in his office all day. Dreamily he looked up into your eyes as you straddled him. “Round 2 huh?” He huffed making you giggle, “let’s not indulge Taetae.” You nipped at the shell of his ear, he gripped your ass tightly. “What else do you have to do, I distributed your work along all the employees you’re here to have fun!”

“Well the phone has been ringing like crazy let me answer at least one call!” You climbed off, your skirt still scrunched around your waist your panties to the side. “Ahhh the baby wants to feel like a big woman go on answer.” Smiling with accomplishment, you picked up the phone. “Hello this is y/n y/l/n, answering for Kim Taehyung.” It was actually another secretary on the line you took notes as he spoke. You felt so responsible you knew Taehyung would be proud, you looked over to see his approval only to find him not there.

Confused you held conversation, until you felt something warm glide along your thigh making you Yelp. “Ah I’m sorry, Mr Lee, repeat that?” In fear you looked under your desk, mischievously Taehyung winked at you. You went back to the conversation, as he lapped your heat. You were already so sensitive you wouldn’t last a minute more of this. “Stop it please Tae.” You hissed pressing the phone to your chest. He did the opposite, penetrating you with his longest digit. Curling his finger and assaulting your clit, if the lewd sound of slurping could be heard by you you knew it could be heard over the phone. Quickly you hung up, very upset you squeezed his head between your thighs.

“Cumming baby?” “No, quitting.” He pulled back confused “what?” You fixed you panties, pulling your skirt back over yourself. “I asked you to let me do one thing, and still you couldn’t keep off of me.” He crawled from under your desk. “Who was on the phone?” He asked dryly, you looked over your notes. “Mr Lee.” “Oh, he calls everyday for his boss they have nothing to offer so we have nothing to give.” You nodded making a note to avoid his calls. “Anything else?” He shook his head going back to his desk with a deep sigh.

Oh good grief, you huffed falling back into your chair, you’ve gotten upset with him and now he’s going to mope around. “TaeTae, please understand I do actually want to work, we’ve talked about this.” You spun your chair to look at him, he looked at you inquisitively. “Maybe you should go back downstairs, I don’t want to distract you.” You could feel your eyes stretching. “Tae! No it’s not that serious.” “No no, your cubicle is still empty, the largest one.” You crossed your arms. “You’ll get the raise you just won’t be here honey...maybe I’ll offer the position to Sana.” He turned from you to go in his computer. “No, I’m not going.” “Bye Y/n see you tonight.” He mumbled nonchalantly.

“No Taehyung.” He gave a grim chuckle. “Stop being hard headed, go fetch Sana for me will you....love you.” “No kim Taehyung, this is MY job!” The phone rung and you picked it up, “hello this is-” He came pulling the phone from you slamming it to hang it up you flinched harshly. “Y/L/N, I won’t ask you agin, get out or do what I promoted you here to do.” He looked into your eyes devilishly. You complied removing your skirt, playtime was over, you sadly knew your place. “Perfect girl.”

Park Jimin...

“I’ll beat your ass come here. Now.” You stood in his office doorway, fear quaking over you. “Y/n...now.” he leaned on his desk looking you up and down. You walked in to what seemed to be your demise. “The door, close it, lock it.” “Mr Park please.” He got up walking behind you and slamming the door before walking in front of you again. “Where the fuck! Were you.” You looked at him, head fogged unsure of an answer. “I-I Mr Park...I’ve been here at work since 3 AM actually...before you got here.” He laughed lightly.

“I didn’t want your schedule, I know your damn schedule, the meeting today’s meeting.” You toyed with your fingers, “OH...oh Mr Park I forgot you needed me I’m sorry h-how did it go?” “We fucking lost the deal, the information you dug up is what we needed and you were somewhere in LaLa land.” He dug his hands into his hair. “C‘mere.” He sat on the leather couch that decorated his office. “Please Mr Park, I’ll stay late and I’ll beg for another meeting date.” He shook his head “no, c’mere.” You stood still pleading with your eyes. “I’ll drag you by your cheap blow out, bring your ass here.” You shuffled to him, he pulled your dress bending you over his knee.

He pulled your dress up, “Mr Park what will your wife say?” You began to tear up, why would he choose you to give his violent love to. “Ha, she’ll say “fuck me harder” later tonight why?” You shook your head refusing to respond. “Look into the mirror.” You obliged. He pulled his hand up just stoping before it hit you causing you to shudder a jerk violently. “ Do you fear me y/n?” You nodded almost sobbing. “I’ve trained you well...head up...be a big girl.”

Jeon Jungkook...

The whole building was draped in a gloomy mood as Jungkook stalked about looking for something to nitpick. Earlier today you and Jungkook had a falling out on the way to work about how close you were getting with one of your male coworkers. And said coworker that just happened to be your cubicle neighbor. He rounded your area multiple times, chastising said coworker, sending him on errands and putting him down again and again.

Seeing how it was affecting the newbie, you finally turned to Jungkook. “Mr Jeon, can I speak to you.” “No.” He turned quickly before going back to chastise the frightened employee. “Slip up again, and I’ll make sure you’re looking at a deep fryer for the rest of your life Kang.” He whispered just loud enough for you to catch it.

“Mr Jeon please, for a minute.” He clears his throat leaving your area. Your face grew hotter by the minute, you got up going to talk to your distraught friend. “Hey, listen he’s all bark and no bite what do you need help with?” You smiled warmly remembering how it felt to be new in a place like this.

“Well every time I answer the phone and start the question pro-” a heavy hand lands on his and your shoulder “who said this was a social hour y/l/n” a sigh came from deep inside of you. “ Damn it Kookie-” “who? Excuse me?” His eyes widening. “Jungkook- Jeon- I’m sorry...I’m sorry Mr Jeon.” He eyed the two of you “hm...kang get to work, y/l/n you too.” He began to walk away. “Y/n I’ll send you an email, I really need help on this.”

“Email her I dare you.” You spun in your chair “Mr jeon please! He’ll never get better if I don’t.” He rolled his eyes taking off his glasses, “what was he trained for if he can’t use the damn computer?” Everyone in the office was watching the dispute. “Pft I was trained on any of this! I had you holding my hand the whole way why can’t he?” He started waking the other way, his face glowing crimson. “Get in my office, now y/n.” You sat turning to your work. “No Jeon. I won’t.” “Y/n you can come to my office, or clock out and go home for the rest of the damn month.” All eyes on you like this was some cheesy tv drama, you got up following him.

Once in the safety of his four walls you stood hands on your hips “why kookie, why you being a Jackass?” He turned to face you, anger evident. Swiftly he pulled you by your shirt “talk to me like that outside of this office space the way you did today one more time, and you’ll be begging me to fire you. Yeah?” You nodded earning a open palm slap to your cheek, “yeah? Open your slutty mouth like you did for Kang, am I understood?” “Yeah kookie.” Another slap, your cheek began to burn. “Yes Mr Jeon.” He lifted his hand making you flinch in his grip. “Lovely girl, now get out there, and leave Kang alone or else.”

#bts smut #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts yandere #dark!bts #jungkook #yandere bts #jimin #bts angst #yoongi smut #Kim Taehyung #min yoongi #Kim namjoon #park jimjn #jeon jungguk #guk jeonjungkook #Jungkook #guk #jung hoseok #Bts smut #ceo!bts #ceo!yoongi #ceo!jungkook #ceo!jimin #ceo!hoseok

[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 3: S*x Work🧡

Harry has my brain right now I’m sorry lol I’m trying to think about Tony instead. I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: Tony/Peter main focus, established Harry/Peter relationship, starker nff, s*x worker!Peter, Peter is over 18

***

Tony knew what was going on as soon as he saw the young man.

It wasn’t unusual for a host of an event to show up with someone hired. It looked good to have something pretty on your arm, and a hire was an easy fix when there wasn’t a partner in their life.

Although it did shock him to see a man on the arm of one Harry Osborn.

It was practically Harry’s coronation, a prince taking the throne of CEO. And Tony expected that he’d continue to be sucking up to his father. Doing everything just as he expected.

The looks of disdain that Norman kept throwing the two young men told Tony that he had been mistaken.

Who knew.

No matter what, the man was gorgeous. And was really good at his job.

He laughed at just the right moments, he mingled with every stuck up guest surrounding them, he gave the younger Osborn looks that could have fooled anyone into believing that they were actually in love.

Anyone but Tony, of course. He knew how it all worked.

After a while he lost track of the couple. He did some mingling of his own with business partners and former clients until the few drinks he had told him that it was time to find a restroom.

The venue was unfamiliar, so he found himself wandering down the hall and looking for signs that would lead him in the right direction.

Eventually he found a door that seemed right and he opened it before slamming it shut again. “Sorry!”

The image of that gorgeous arm candy on his knees was burned into his memory, though.

“Fuck.” He heard Harry mumble through the door. “Get up, someone’s already looking for us, Pete.”

A heavy sigh. “We’ve barely done anything. We can keep going for a minute-“

Tony was frozen, listening to them.

The door opened a moment later and he came face to face with a very flushed Osborn.

“Oh, fuck. Of course it was you.”

“I was just looking for a bathroom,” Tony blurted out. “Not looking for you.”

Harry didn’t look convinced. “Please just- don’t tell anyone. Although I know you have no reason to do me any favors.”

“Tell anyone what? Kid, I’m pretty sure that’s his job. No one cares.”

The other man stepped out, still straightening himself out. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not here as an escort.”

“So you’re not-“ Tony didn’t buy it. Although maybe he was just hoping for his own sake.

Knowing that the angel in front of him was out of reach just might have broken his heart. He was that attracted to him. But he just couldn’t help it.

“I am. I mean, not an escort per se...” The young man crossed his arms. “But this isn’t a job.”

Harry groaned, covering his face. “I’m pretty sure this is making it worse, Pete.”

The other man - Pete? - just looked up at Tony, cocking his head to the side. “But it doesn’t matter. Harry, we’re out tonight, we’re out. Who cares what he says to anyone?”

Tony was stuck on the previous thing. “So you are a- well, whatever you want to call it?”

“Yes. I can give you my information if you want. And I don’t need a title, just call me Peter.”

He did want. He definitely did want that. But he was still confused. “If this isn’t a job then, what-“

“We’re together.”

That definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. He might have even staggered back a bit with how surprised he was. But maybe that was just his flair for the dramatic. It really was pretty shocking, though.

“O….Kay.” He’d ask later. For now, he was sticking with the information he had. And he had to find out how to get time with gorgeous Peter.

“How much for an hour?” Tony asked.

Peter didn’t miss a beat. “A grand.” At an annoyed sound from Harry he laughed. “But I’m not available for the next few hours.”

“I’ll pay ten if you’ll be with me right now.”

The couple exchanged a look. “Half an hour,” Harry countered.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Tony grinned. “Get back out to your party. Promise I’ll return him to you in one piece.”

Peter snorted, setting a timer on his phone. “Your thirty minutes starts now. What do you have in mind?”

Harry watched them warily. He kissed Peter’s cheek, sighing. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. It’ll be fast, don’t worry.”

Tony scoffed. “Was that an attack on my stamina? Because-“

“Thirty minutes isn’t long, Stark. That’s it.” Peter grinned. “So defensive.”

“You’re wasting my time, Osborn. Skedaddle.” Tony waved his hands.

Peter snorted, pulling him into the same room that they’d come out of.

Tony grinned at him. “Feisty. I like it.”

“Okay. Seriously, what do you want? Because we really don’t have that much time.” Peter was already reaching for Tony’s belt.

“First? I’m actually going to go find a bathroom. What I was trying to do before all this.” He felt a little bad about interrupting them, but figured that they could pick up where they left off later. And the thought that he once again pissed off an Osborn made him smile.

“K. Should I just wait here?” Peter moved his hands and leaned against the wall.

“Why would you follow me? Yes, stay here. Just a minute.” Tony opened the door again before pausing. “I still...don’t know where it is.”

“Maybe I should follow you.” Peter laughed under his breath. “You were, like, two doors off. To the left.”

“Thanks. Don’t go anywhere.”

Tony left and was back within a couple minutes, but he knew that he had very little time to waste. Half an hour wasn’t much at all.

Although he would definitely be getting Peter’s contact information for another time.

He was back in the small room where he left Peter, raising an eyebrow when he saw the younger man with his tie loose and shirt unbuttoned. “Eager?”

“Figured I wouldn’t just stand here while I waited. What, is this not what you wanted?” Peter teasingly moved his hands over his chest.

And how did he keep getting more and more perfect? The unbuttoned shirt revealed hard abs and a v that nearly made Tony drool. There needed to be statues of that body. He was halfway to thinking through the costs of such a thing when Peter’s laugh snapped him out of it.

“Down, boy.”

Tony snorted, a little surprised. “I’m not paying you to tell me to stop ogling. Remember, I’m way overpaying you for this.”

“It’s my personal time. I get to decide what’s overpaying.” Peter stepped forward, his fingers starting to unbutton Tony’s shirt. “Now. You have like…twenty three minutes left.”

“Half of what’s gone was because your boyfriend wouldn’t leave.”

“Mmm. You could have taken advantage of your time anyways. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen me with a client.”

Why was that so appealing to think about?

“Right. Well, first I actually want to talk. Is that okay?” Tony didn’t stop him from slowly unbuttoning his shirt anyway.

Peter nodded, confused. Everyone wanted to jump right into the good stuff, especially with such a short time. Although he never usually did less than two hours.

Maybe he was just curious as to what Tony had in mind.

“Alright. So you said you and Osborn are a thing, how long has that been going on?” He really had so many questions about that alone.

“Officially? Today’s our first time being out together. But we’re been a couple for a little over a year now. But we’ve known each other our whole lives. Grew up together and all that.” Peter made his way down Tony’s shirt as he talked, until it was hanging open.

“Huh. That’s interesting, I always assumed he was straight. Scandals with girls, yknow.” Tony slid his jacket and now-open shirt off.

The younger man nodded, hands on Tony’s hips. “Yeah, everyone assumed. But he hid it for a reason. His dad is pissed. And we knew he would be. So he just…tried to look one way. Threw everyone off.”

“Did a good job. I’ve never seen you before,” Tony commented. “I would have remembered.”

“That’s because I’m not associated with the company in any way. And the media isn’t interested in a random kid from Queens.” Peter shrugged, undoing Tony’s belt.

“Interesting.” The older man helped. “Well, I think that’s most of my questions. Can I touch you?”

Peter nodded, laughing a little. “You can. And happy to answer.” It was more than he would have answered with anyone else. He wasn’t really sure why he was so open with Stark. “What are you thinking you want me to do?”

“I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to get on your knees for me, honey.” Another thing popped into his head as he watched him get down. “So he’s okay with this? Being in a relationship while being in sex work?”

The younger man nodded, pulling Tony’s pants down his hips and thighs. “Yeah. I think sometimes he gets a little jealous but we work it out. We talk. I assure him that he’s the only one I actually love.”

Tony licked his bottom lip, nodding. “That makes sense. Alright, now I’m done. I don’t want to talk about him any more, I just want to think about you, gorgeous. Is that okay?”

“Perfectly okay.” Peter got his boxers down and let the man’s cock rest against his cheek. “Let’s really get started….”

***

They went over the half hour.

Not by much, only a couple minutes, but still. Tony noticed. And he mentioned it. But Peter only waved him off and finished getting him off.

They straightened themselves out when they were done and Tony pulled his phone out.

“I should have done this first, but do you have some kind of account I need to send the money to? Or-“

Peter shook his head quickly, taking his phone and adding himself as a contact. “Just think of this as a…test run. I’d feel bad charging you all that for one bj.”

Tony blinked, taking his phone back when it was pressed into his hands. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now go away, I’ll come in in a minute. We don’t need to look like we’re coming in together.” Peter pulled his own phone out and winced when he saw how swollen his lips were.

“Okay. Thank you.”

The young man shot him a small smile. “No problem.”

Tony made his way back to the ballroom, still trying to make sense of everything that happened.

He made eye contact with Harry as he came in and gave him a small nod. He didn’t know what else to do, his mind still fogged by everything.

He’d definitely be calling Peter soon.

#starker #parksborn #starker nff #I’m fixated okay lol I warned you #peter parker #tony stark #harry osborn #my writing #bri’s kinktober 2021 #idk what all to even tag this lol #don’t come after me I’m just tagging things correctly #been there done that #block the tags you don’t like

[tsukishumai]

Your First Fight - Akaashi, Kenma, Oikawa, Kageyama (Setter Squad)

A/N - This was for anon, I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what the heck happened to this post >-< but it’s back, and I fixed the links on the other posts as well!

Ace Edition

Word Count: 2.8k T-T 

I may or may not have gotten carried away with this one  (✿◠‿◠) Buckle up, and I hope u enjoy!  ( ˘ ³˘)

AKAASHI –

You understand why Akaashi wanted to keep your relationship secret. Really, you did. You could already imagine the barrage of overbearing comments, and the teasing that was sure to be a distraction during practice. With Nationals just around the corner, this was the last thing you both needed.

Being the manager of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club, you know better than most just how rowdy the group could actually be. Bokuto may be the loudest one of the bunch, but all the others can be just as provoking.

And to be honest, the sneaking around was kind of hot. You can’t deny you got butterflies every time Akaashi would pull you into the equipment room for a quick make out session, or when he would give your thigh a secret squeeze under the lunch table surrounded by your friends.

But it’s been months now, and frankly, you were kind of getting tired of it. Sure, it may be slightly more convenient for the both of you, but some days you just want to hold your boyfriend’s hand down the hall without having to look over your shoulder.

You’ve only brought it up to Akaashi once before, but he brushed it off by saying it wasn’t the right time, and you were discouraged to try ever since.

You really weren’t planning to bring it up at the Tokyo Representative Playoffs… you really didn’t. But Konoha’s girlfriend showed up to cheer him on, looking so happy and proud in the stands, you couldn’t fight the tinge of envy that started to take over your body.

Akaashi was observant, and he knew you better than anyone. He could see you stealing glances into the stands, could see the tension in your shoulders whenever Konoha’s girlfriend yelled out cheers for him.

He couldn’t stop himself from following you after you told Yukie you were just going to the restroom.

“No good luck kiss?” he called out once the both of you were a safe distance from the team.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone to see,” you said bitterly, not stopping for Akaashi.

Akaashi frowned. “Y/N, you know that’s not true.”

“Well, why else wouldn’t you want to tell anyone about us?” you asked, you finally stopped walking, turning around to give him a hard look.

Akaashi groaned in frustration. “Do we really have to talk about this right here? Right now? I told you, it’s just easier this way.”

You scoffed, and Akaashi hated the sound. “Sorry our relationship is such an inconvenience for you.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply, quickly entering the women’s bathroom, faintly hearing the sound of Bokuto calling your boyfriend’s name behind you.

Akaashi didn’t blame you for the loss against Itachiyama, but he definitely blamed himself.

“Have you seen Y/N?” he asked Bokuto after the game, but the ace just shrugged, too upset about the loss to really care. The whole team had all gathered their things, ready to make their way out of the gym and you still were nowhere to be found.

Akaashi’s worries were relieved, but quickly replaced with new ones when Bokuto spotted you down the hall, cornered by someone wearing a Nohebi uniform.

“So tell me, do you have you a boyfriend?” Akaashi heard him ask, and you finally noticed the team approach you. The evil gleam in your eye didn’t escape Akaashi’s attention.

“No, actually. I don’t.”

It was one thing for you to deny it to your teammates, but to other men? Akaashi shouldn’t be mad that those were the words that came out of your mouth; it was his own fault for putting you in the situation in the first place. He knows you’re just doing what he told you to.

But he was furious, and there was nothing that could have stopped him from grabbing you by the elbow, turning you away from the dirty little snake that dared to talk to you, and crashing his lips onto yours.

You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting from Akaashi, but it definitely wasn’t this. Though, you weren’t complaining, returning his kiss with equal fervor, ignoring the uncomfortable cough from the Nohebi player, and the gasps and shocked exclamations from your teammates.

All you could focus on when he pulled away was Akaashi, blue eyes staring straight into your soul, the next words tumbling out of his mouth was all you’ve wanted to hear for months.

“You’re mine. I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

KENMA –

You’ve been sitting in the same spot on Kenma’s bed for about an hour now. The room was filled with only the sounds emanating from the TV, and your boyfriend’s fingers tapping on the buttons of his controller.

Kenma always did like falling into a hole whenever he bought a new game; you’ve known this about him since you were kids. It wasn’t something you ever really minded, nor did you think it was something you wanted to change. It was a part of him that you simply accepted.

Normally, you were content with reading a book while he played, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence, getting lost in different worlds. You both respected each other’s hobbies, and the fact that you could do them together in the same room worked out so perfectly.

However, you finished your book faster than you anticipated, and in your shortsightedness, you failed to bring with you a second book. You tried to read webtoons online, but the light from your phone began to strain your eyes.

“Kenma,” you whined as boredom got the best of you, and the blonde boy didn’t bother to respond, “I’m hungry. Can’t we get something to eat?”

“After,” he grunted, though there were no specifications to when ‘After’ would be.

You sighed, getting up from your spot on the bed to tinker with his things. You walk around his room, running your fingers along the books lined on his shelf, picking up frames that contained happy memories of his life.

You hear your phone ding, signaling a message and you turned to make your way back to the bed.

“Hey!” Kenma exclaimed suddenly, making you jump, “Could you not walk in front of the TV? I just died because of you!”

You stared at him in shock for a second. You had never heard him raise his voice before “Excuse me? So what, it’s just a stupid game.”

“It’s not a stupid game,” Kenma grumbled, his voice back to his usual soft tone, but still held a slight tinge of anger. “You know I’ve been waiting for this to be released. Can’t you just read your book and be quiet like you usually do?”

Kenma immediately knew those were the wrong words to say, regretting the way you face turned into a pout. He watched you begin to gather your things, a slight panic rising in his chest when he realizes you’re trying to leave. “You know what, let me just leave you alone, since clearly my company isn’t wanted –“

You were cut off by Kenma getting up from his spot, opening the bottom drawer of his TV stand to rummage through it. You eyed him curiously until he finally found what he was looking for; pulling out another controller that he connected to the gaming console.

He quietly took your hand, pulling you down to sit on the floor with him. You sat cross legged and confused, wondering what he was doing until he handed you the controller. You stared at it in your lap, a small smile spreading on your face at his silent apology.

He started the game on easy mode, giving you a quick rundown on the basic controls.

“I’ll order us some pizza,” he said quietly, making you give him a soft peck on the cheek.

“Pizza sounds good.”

OIKAWA –

The booming sound of Oikawa’s serves was something that will never cease to amaze you.

Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile your Oikawa Toru – the one that hides behind your hair during scary movies, and asks you to kill the spiders for him – with Aoba Johsai’s Oikawa Toru. To you, they were just two completely different people.

But when you were watching him practice like this, raw power coming from his usually gentle hands, you can’t help but stare at him in awe.

You don’t usually stay this late to watch him practice; on a normal day, your club activities would end at the same time and Oikawa would walk you home, but on days like today where he felt he needed the extra practice, you left him in the care of Iwaizumi.

You were a little surprised, however, when you found Iwaizumi waiting for you at your club room, claiming he really needed to get his part of his group project done by tonight, and if you could please stay and make sure your boyfriend doesn’t kill himself.

How could you say no?

At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times Oikawa practiced his serve, the repetitive sound of the balls bouncing and his grunting becoming a sort of hypnotic rhythm for you. Before you knew it, the sun had BEEN down, and the moon had taken its place in the night sky.

You begin to notice the telltale signs of exhaustion, Oikawa struggling to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down, his form beginning to look sloppy.

“Alright,” you say, jumping down from your spot on the bench, “It’s time to go home.”

“One more.”

“Tsk,” you clicked your tongue, walking around collecting the balls, “It’s been hours, Toru. Rest is also a part of training, you know.”

He ignored you, grabbing another ball from the cart, but you just started taking down the volleyball net.

“What the hell are you doing? I said one more!” “And I said it’s time to go home!”

The ear-splitting sound of the volleyball slamming the floor cut through the gym, leaving you frozen in place. “You wouldn’t understand! You may be satisfied with doing the bare minimum for your practices, but my serves have to be perfect! I have to be perfect!” Oikawa’s voice echoed, glaring at you with red eyes, frustration evident on his face.

You didn’t say anything. You stared at him for a moment, then turned around and began the process of closing the gym. Oikawa also chose to stay silent, brown eyes trained on the floor as he gathered his belongings, silently following you once you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The walk home was quiet; the lack of a reaction on your part weighing more heavily on Oikawa than he expected. He snuck a glance at you, but you kept your head forward, steel faced and neutral.

Each step he took was more agonizing than the last, knowing he shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. Your house was beginning to come into view, and he couldn’t leave the night like this.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and your sharp inhale let him know that you heard him.

“I know.”

“I’m exhausted...” and you know he wasn’t just talking about volleyball.

You finally faced him, and gently grabbed his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders as you snaked an arm around his middle. He felt all the tension his body melt away, half expecting to find it puddled around his feet.

“I know,” you said, “But if you ever talk to me like that again, you’re getting a flying fist to the face.”

Oikawa laughed, drawing one out from your own mouth. He placed a kiss on your temple, and gave you full permission to cut his head off if he ever lashed out at you again. He always appreciated how he never had to tell you anything… you always just knew.

KAGEYAMA –

Kageyama had a pretty good weekend, if you asked him.

He woke up early on Saturday morning to go for a run, then got home and had pork curry for lunch. He figures it’s been a while since he’s brushed up on his basic skills, so he went to the local gym and practiced some drills. On Sunday, he was dragged by Hinata to a study group with Yachi, and admittedly gotten more homework done there than he would have on his own.

It was a nice, productive weekend. He entered his Monday with this positive vibe following him around, even morning practice went by smoothly.

He went about his usual routine of waiting for you by the school gates so he could walk you to class. He only waited about ten minutes until you came into view, and Kageyama subconsciously straightened his posture. He tried to push down the little tickle at the pit of his belly when you made eye contact, not wanting to admit he was excited to see you.

“Good morning,” he said as soon as you approached, but his entire mood completely shifted downward when you simply walked passed him.

Where was his usual ‘Good morning, Tobio-kun!’? Why didn’t you stop to give him his morning peck on the cheek? Why didn’t you let him carry your bag for you on the way to class?

Did he do something wrong?

He was so confused, questions running through his head as he simply trailed after you silently.

“Is everything alright?” He tried to ask once you reached your class, but you just gave him a stern look, turning away from him to enter your classroom and take your seat. He was left there looking like an idiot.

He couldn’t focus in class, trying to wrack his brain on why you could possibly be upset. Did he forget an anniversary? Doubtful, you’ve only just started dating. Were you on your period? Kageyama shook his head. Even he knew that would literally be the worst question to ask.

The bell rang to signal the start of lunch, and Kageyama hurriedly gathered his things so he can go find you.

He didn’t have to look very far, though, because when he exited his classroom, he spotted you down the hall.

The second you saw him, you marched your way over; the dark aura you were giving off had made everyone steer clear of you.

Kageyama gulped, wanting to run away before he remembered that he also wanted to talk to you.

“Y/N –“ “You know, I was going to ignore you the whole day, but seeing you this morning just really pissed me off, and unlike you, I actually can’t stand not talking to you.”

Kageyama blinked, happy to hear your voice, but confused at the words you were saying. “Unlike me? What do you mean?”

You crossed your arms and huffed. “Where the hell were you all weekend?”

Again, Kageyama blinked stupidly. “What do you mean? I was home.”

This seemed like the wrong answer, because now your hands moved to your hips, and for some reason, you were ten times more intimidating like that. “So? You never thought to shoot me a text? Or give me a call?”

“Was I supposed to?” Kageyama asked, and the genuine curiosity in his voice made you face palm.

“Did you not want to?” You asked, though there was no hurt behind the question.

“I did.” “So why didn’t you?”

Kageyama thought about it for a moment. “I went to the gym instead.”

You let out a groan of frustration. Honestly, you should have known. It took you three tries before Kageyama even realized you were confessing to him. It took him even longer to realize that he actually had to tell you he liked you back, and that you had no idea that him buying you yogurt meant he was asking you out.

“Tobio-kun,” you said patiently, “If you’re thinking of me, you should text me or call me to let me know.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Even if I have nothing interesting to say?”

You nodded, looping your arm through his and starting your walk to the cafeteria. “Even then. I just want to hear from you.”

Kageyama nodded his head in understanding. “Okay. That’s good to know.”

Your phone never stopped blowing up after that conversation. RIP your notifications.

#haikyu #haikyu!! #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios #hq hc #hq!! #haikyuu x reader #akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi imagines #akaashi scenarios #akaashi headcanons #kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kozume kenma x reader #kenma imagines #kenma headcanons #oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa x reader #oikawa imagines #kageyama #kageyama tobio

[let-them-read-fics]

Empress of the Heart (Pt. 2)

Synopsis / Request: “Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again.”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings / Misc: Smut (only in Pt. 1), Angst, Fluff

Here’s the second half of the request for you lovely peeps! Enjoy :)

Part 1

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

◇◇◇◇◇

"Y/N, more people are arriving and management wants us to greet them. Something about photo ops." Jackson, your fellow lead, says as he pokes his head into your dressing room. His entrance intruded on your thoughts of the beautiful brunette that effectively stole your heart away within a night, leaving you completely at her mercy despite being worlds away.  

"Alright, just give me a second." He nods and goes to stand outside your door -- you're expected to be seen together for a good portion of the night. Thankfully, though, Jackson is a good guy; he cares a lot about you, always doing everything in his power to keep you happy. The feeling is mutual; it's nice to have someone in your corner in an industry as unforgiving as this one. 

"Ready?" You ask, opening the door after you've checked yourself in the mirror and smoothed down any unruly hairs or clothing. Looking presentable is a must tonight -- you can't appear as wistful as you've been feeling lately. 

"Sure am." His answer is a bit unnecessary, seeing as how you asked a rhetorical question, but you send him a smile nonetheless. He offers you an arm, and soon the two of you are walking back towards the entrance of the building. 

--------

Waves of flashing cameras greet you for the second time tonight, now capturing you in your full glammed-out look. The first time had been a few hours ago when your team arrived to begin setting up and get all of you ready. 

The entire cast now stands stretched out in front of the large screen that will air the movie later, your arms around each other as you smile for the cameras. Promotional pictures shine behind you on the screen, serving as a perfect backdrop as they cycle through their predetermined slideshow.

Eventually, you all disperse to greet some guests. 

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Choi. It's wonderful seeing you again." 

"I hope you enjoy our performances, Mrs. Lee. Your support has meant the world to us." 

"Ah, Jeong! How've you been?" 

Countless faces pass by as you work hard to greet everyone, knowing full well your company will be upset if you slack off now. It's everyone's big night, so they obviously can't have their leading lady stopping for even a minute. 

You're almost ready to run to the restroom in order to have a moment to yourself, free of prying eyes and judgemental stares; but what you hear next sends a chill down your spine, an all too familiar ache in your chest. 

It's Jennie. She's laughing that wonderful laugh of hers, taking you back in time to when you first heard it. Her members must've said something really hilarious, because all of them are doubled over, clutching their stomachs with laughter. 

"Hey again," Jackson greets, and for a second you almost want to tell him to leave you alone. You don't, though, knowing you have no right to pull something like that. 

"YG's girl group just got here. Do you want to say hello?" Of course you do. You want to run into Jennie's arms and spin her around, reveling in the way her arms would surely wrap around you in that warm embrace that's so uniquely hers. You want to tell her a stupid joke to make her laugh again, like she had just a few moments ago. You want to talk to her. 

But you don't.

"No, not right now. I'm going to visit with my family, if that's alright with you." 

"Sure, sure." He says considerately, unwrapping his arm from you. You press a friendly kiss to his cheek as a thank you, letting it serve as a goodbye as well. 

"Eomma!" You shout, squeezing through the crowd when you spot her at one of the banquet tables lining the front of the room. The rest of the space is filled with rows of chairs, already set out for when the movie premieres. 

"Ah, baby girl. We're so proud of you." She says, holding you in a tight embrace as tears spill from her eyes. Her arms bring you comfort like no other, and you're beyond grateful to have her here tonight. Some of your friends stand behind her, too, waiting for their turn to say hello. 

Jennie watches you interact with them from across the room, and she feels a pang of sadness run through her. She's not naive to how these things work: your other cast mates had come over to greet her and girls, snapping pictures and even starting meaningful conversations in some cases -- all of that meaning you had been given the opportunity to do the same, but turned it down. Do you not want to see her? Maybe she had misjudged your night together. You are an actress, after all. 

She shakes her head, physically willing the thoughts to go away as she turns her focus to whatever new person was talking to them now. She continues stealing glances in your direction, finding you looking somewhere else every time. She'd give just about anything to have you look at her, if only for a moment. Just a glance, she thinks to herself, praying the universe hears her pleas. They seem to fall on deaf ears, though, because before she knows it the MC is calling all of you onto stage and the guests are directed to their seats. 

"Let's welcome the cast of Empress of the Heart!" The MC says cheerily, tucking his notecard underneath his arm in order to clap along with the audience. "They've spent months working hard for this project, travelling to filming locations in different countries, learning new languages, and facing their fears. We hope all of you thoroughly enjoy their performances. Now, I'll hand it over to our leads." 

You and Jackson bow towards the audience, waving at them politely as they applaud you again. He looks at you, a silent question of if you want to speak first, and you nod. Taking the mic from him, you say, "Firstly, I'd like to thank our incredible cast and crew. They played just as important a role in this movie as Jackson and I, and we're endlessly grateful for their hard work." More cheers ring out at your kind hearted show of appreciation, and you speak up again once they've died down. 

"These past few months have been some of the best of my life, and I owe that to people like you, and my fans. Thank you for taking a chance on me and supporting me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you." You say sincerely, looking into the camera that's recording all of this for exclusive content. When the movie drops for the public in a couple weeks, they'll be able to buy this tape as well and see highlights from the premiere. The thought of your fans watching it from the comfort of their own homes, yelling praises at their screens, makes you smile. 

Jackson takes over now, smoothly transitioning into his own mini speech of thanks. You stop your eyes from meeting the one pair that they so desperately want to, always keeping them trained on other parts of the crowd. If you allow your resolve to crumble, you'll get lost in her all over again and potentially screw up one of the biggest nights of your life. You can't take a risk like that. 

You laugh at something Jackson says, some joke about how you had to face your fear of heights for a scene in the movie, and Jennie takes a deep breath. She's not exactly jealous, but yet that's precisely the feeling that creeps its way into her chest. She knows that you're avoiding her for some reason, but she has no idea why. Did she do something wrong? 

--------

Why, why, did they have to sit Blackpink in the row right behind you? It's karmic, the universe's way of pushing you back to each other, but you don't know how to feel about it all. You can feel her eyes boring into you as each new scene plays, silently begging for you to turn around and talk to her, even if it's impolite to do so in the middle of a movie.

You don't, though, fighting every fiber of your being to keep yourself from giving in. 

Despite the emotions that swirl within her that pay little mind to the number they're doing on her heart, she actually finds herself enjoying parts of the movie. It's bittersweet, seeing you up there, but you command the screen in a way that seems to steal all coherent thoughts from her brain. You're truly skilled, and she gets a kick out of watching you hide behind your hands in embarrassment when your co-stars offer whispered praises.

During one scene in particular, though, Jennie's eyes drop to the floor, her teeth clenched together tightly. Your character just saved Jackson's from certain doom, and the two of you are sharing a long-overdue kiss. The rest of the crowd lets out approving noises at this, but Jennie is comforted by her members' soft smiles and reassuring touches. You feel guilty, for some reason, knowing that anything you were a part of made Jennie so upset. It shouldn't matter, though -- I mean, it's not like you and Jackson are actually together -- but still, it hurts Jennie to see him kiss you and hold you in the ways she wants to. 

The rest of the night carries on much the same, but later on, once you get enough courage to look for Jennie, she's gone. The other girls are too, and a sinking feeling settles in your chest. Gone -- again -- just like all that time ago. Your reasons for staying away from her were legitimate, but they felt nothing of the sort as you glanced around the crowd again. 

The movie ended earlier, already getting good marks and reviews from the critics who came to view it, and now the "afterparty" of sorts was kicking in. You hadn't expected the girls to stay long after the movie, but you'd at least hoped to utter a word to them, if nothing else. A smile would've sufficed. 

Realizing she's really gone, you let out a sad sigh and make your way down the hall, towards the large doors that lead to the balcony. If anything can clear your mind right now, surely it's a chilly breeze. 

You lay an arm against the sturdy railing, leaning on it as you massage your neck. All of the stress you've been put under is showing in the form of painful knots, far too many to get rid of in one go. You sigh, letting your head lull forward and lay against your arm.

"And here I was thinking I wouldn't see you again."

At the utterance, you turn around to find her leaned up against the stone wall of the building with a playful smirk on her lips. She's back to her old self in an instant, but you can sense the undertones of nervousness in her voice. 

The darkness of the night that envelops you two makes her eyes look even more feline -- even more alluring -- and it takes everything in you not to lose your train of thought. 

"Jennie." Her name comes out as a pleased declaration more than anything else, a familiar flutter taking over your heart at the sight of her. It's a warm feeling in your chest, and you never want it to go away. 

You try not to focus on the sensual swaying of her hips or the teasing look in her eye as she pushes herself away from the wall to approach you. 

"I thought you left." You breathe out, remembering how sad you were earlier. 

"Without getting you alone first? How could I?" The implication behind her words gives you pause, causing a blush to begin forming on your cheeks. You curse yourself for being so easy.

"I've missed you like crazy," she confesses, allowing herself to be vulnerable again. Now in front of you, she brushes the back of her fingertips against your cheek as you look into her eyes. 

"I've missed you, too -- more, probably," you say, the declaration sounding like an embarrassed sigh as it leaves your lips. She smiles at that -- her genuine, gummy smile that you've missed so much -- and your heart flutters again. 

She debates on asking the question that sits on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be answered. "Why didn't you greet me before, at the party?" Her voice is small now, insecure, as she avoids your gaze and stills her movements. 

"I-..." you start, finding yourself at a loss for words. Should you tell her how you feel?

"I was afraid you'd throw me off my game. You're pretty distracting, you know?" You reply, nudging her shoulder playfully. A hint of a smile tugs at her cheeks, unsure if it should finish the job and turn into a big one. 

"I thought I did something wrong." She informs.

"Not at all. In fact, you did things a little too right, if you ask me. I can't stay away from you, Jennie." Her heart trips and stumbles over itself in its pursuit of gaining a steady rhythm again, thrown off course by your words. 

Growing brave, she suggests, "Go on a date with me, then. I wanna have more nights like that with you." She whispers that last part, ghosting her fingertips over your skin to awaken the memories. 

"I'd like that," you smile, leaning in to kiss her lips. It's soft and gentle, much like your first one, and your heart hammers in your chest. It seems to forget that you've done this before, choosing instead to subject you to the giddiness you felt that first time with her. 

She pulls back to rest her forehead against yours, settling her arms around your waist, saying, "I've wanted to do that all night." You smile for the millionth time because of her, happy with how things have turned out.

"Do it again, then." 

And she does. 

#jennie kim #jennie x reader #jennie x fem reader #jennie kim x fem reader #blackpink #blackpink angst #blackpink smut #blackpink fluff #blackpink oneshots #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #kpop #kpop girl group #kim jisoo #lisa manoban #rosé #park chaeyoung #let-them-read-fics